After lunch, Cleo heads straight to the pool, while Mamma, Papà, and I return to the guesthouse. As soon as the front door closes behind us, Papà takes me by the hand and drags me up the stairs to his and Mamma’s bedroom.
Mamma watches us wordlessly, her expression tense. That’s the way she is. Silent. Controlled. I can never tell if she defers to Papà because of fear or because she agrees with his methods.
I’m not sure it really matters at this point. The end result is the same.
This time when Papà backhands me, he uses far more force.
“Never ever interrupt me again.”
The hit sends me falling, and my right hip takes the brunt of it against the hard tile floor. I swallow down a yelp and count in my head until the pain radiating through my leg begins to fade. My gaze follows a small ant running along the grout between the tiles until Papà roughly lifts me to my feet.
I’d known there would be consequences for interrupting him at lunch, but I couldn’t let him and Vale get into a fight that would result in us going home early. I don’t want to be responsible for leaving a dark stain on my sister’s wedding. A distinct metallic taste floods my mouth as I will myself not to cry.
Papà glares at me, his nostrils flaring with harsh breaths. “Do you understand?”
“Yes.” I breathe out, glancing at the door at his back.
“Do you think I like doing this?”
My gaze drops to the ground. “No.”
“I’m doing this for your own damn good, Gemma. Do you think Rafaele will want a wife who can’t keep her mouth shut long enough for him to finish a sentence?”
I shake my head.
“You have to be perfect. I don’t want you getting in trouble with him, you hear?” He lifts my chin with his fingers, forcing me to meet his gaze. It’s filled with righteous anger. “Your marriage will not be a clusterfuck like Vale’s. I learned from that experience. I made mistakes with your sister. I should have gotten more involved earlier when things started going off course. With you, everything will be different, because I’m going to make sure you understand exactly what’ll be expected of you by a man like Rafaele.”
“And what kind of a man is that?” I ask, even though I’m not sure I’m ready to hear the answer.
Papà drops his hand away and straightens his back. “In our business, he’s demanding but fair. I imagine he’ll be the same in your marriage. We’ve had a chance to talk about his philosophy on family life, and it closely aligns with my own. You are to be at his service. Always. Your purpose in life will be to make his life as easy and as pleasing as possible. Learn what that means, and he will treat you with all the respect you’re due.”
I’m marrying a younger version of my father.
It takes everything I have to not let my expression crumble. “Okay.”
He pats me on both shoulders. “You will have a chance to speak to him more this week. I have no doubt you will grow to appreciate him and love him in due time.”
That’s ambitious. I’ll be happy if all I manage to do is survive.
I slip out of the room and head directly to a bathroom to tidy myself up.
The thing is, I was raised for this. All of the girls in our family were. Arranged marriages have been the norm in our family for many generations, and they’ve generally worked out. Divorces are practically unheard of. The only two I can think of off the top of my head were actually love marriages. Two distant aunts on Mamma’s side left the family to marry men they’d fallen in love with, only to return a few years later begging to be taken back in. Their stories have always been told as cautionary tales. It wasn’t until Vale that I entertained the possibility of a love marriage working out.
I suppose it’s too early to tell in her case.
Vale and Damiano are obviously infatuated with each other, but will their love last? Will it survive the challenges that come with marrying a don without a family supporting her? Even Mamma’s had to rely on Nona and our aunts and uncles to get through some rough patches with Papà.
Vale doesn’t have that anymore.
She’s here all alone.
A shiver of discomfort runs through me. I get why Vale ran, but for the life of me, I can’t understand how she did it.
She was always the perfect sister. Growing up, Mamma made Vale the ideal that I had to measure up against. I was never as good. Never as beautiful. I was in competition with her, but it was one-sided, and maybe that’s why it never managed to create a rift between us.
It just made me hungry for every crumb of approval I could get.
My reflection stares back at me. This concealer deserves an award. It’s barely smudged. No point in worrying what I’ll discover when I wash it off tonight.
“Gemma?”
My head turns toward the door. It’s Vale. I should have known she wouldn’t let Papà’s comments about my future husband slide without a follow-up interrogation.
She’s sitting on the edge of the bed when I come out, and I can tell she’s fired up. I know what’s coming, so I decide to take the lead.
“Look, I know it’s weird.”
“Weird? Gem, it sounds awful. They’ll display the sheets? I mean, God. It’s humiliating.”
“I’ll be fine.” That lunch we just had was far more humiliating, if you asked me. I could do without Papà announcing all the intimate details of my upcoming marriage in front of everyone.
Especially Ras.
I purse my lips. That smug asshole was probably delighted to see me squirm. He seems to enjoy making me uncomfortable.
“No—”
“Vale, why is the tradition humiliating to me?” I demand as I plop down beside her. “If anything, it’s more humiliating to the people insisting on seeing the damn thing, don’t you think?”
My words make her pause for a second. “Of course it is. But I’m sure it won’t be a pleasant thing for you to go through.”
“It’s pretty low on my list of concerns.”
“What are your concerns? Have you voiced any of them to our father? Has he listened? Things have changed, Gem. You know that, right? After what happened with me, you should have a say in who you marry.”
“You really have forgotten how things work in our family.”
Her eyes flare. “Don’t you understand I have leverage now? Damiano can—”
“Damiano can’t do anything. He’s a don on the opposite side of the world.”
“Him and Papà have this deal—”
This time, the scoff slips out. “You really think your new husband will risk an important deal for my sake?” She’s delusional if she believes that. Damiano wouldn’t have become a don if he made his decisions based on anyone’s emotional whims, Vale included.
“Can you stop interrupting me and just listen? Let me handle Damiano. If you just tell me what you want, I can help you.”
Vale doesn’t get it. She doesn’t know what’s at stake.
Calling off the engagement would throw everyone under the bus. If the alliance between Papà and Rafaele falls apart, the Garzolos will become a target.
For all I know, Rafaele might decide to destroy us himself.
No, there is no way out of this.
“What I want is to marry him. It will be good for the family.”
A shadow passes over Vale’s expression. “My marriage was good for the family too. At least that’s what Papà said. Look how that turned out.”
“That was different,” I say. “Speaking of family, they miss you, you know. Nona wanted to be here, but the flight would have been too difficult for her. And our aunts ask about you every time I see them. You should call them.”
My suggestion is innocent, but I can see she’s taken aback. She crosses her arms over her chest and looks toward the window. “I wouldn’t know what to say.”
“It doesn’t matter. They just want to hear your voice.”
She shakes her head, her gaze fixed on the glittering sea outside.
“Are you angry with them?” I venture.
“I was in the beginning.” She stands, walks toward the window, and pushes the sheer curtain aside. “But not anymore. Now, I don’t know what I feel.”
“They had no idea what Lazaro was making you do. None of us did.”
Vale links her palms behind her back. “Unfortunately, emotions are rarely logical. But like I said, I’m not angry at them. If anything, I’m ashamed.”
I get up and move toward her. “Why?”
“I should have called a long time ago to offer my condolences after what happened with the Riccis, but I just couldn’t do it. The questions they’d ask about me and Lazaro… I didn’t want to have those conversations. I still don’t. It’s selfish of me to want a clean break from my life in New York, but that’s what I want.”
Something cracks inside my chest.
I get it. I do.
But I’m part of that old life.
Does she want a clean break from me too?
My fingertips brush against her shoulder. She looks at me. “I wish Papà would call off your engagement and let you and Cleo move in with me.”
There’s a flash of hope, like a single match being lit inside a dark room.
And then it’s gone.
“You know he’d never let that happen.”
Vale’s smile is sad. “I know. I just don’t want what happened to me to happen to either of you. I don’t think I could live with myself if it did.”
“It won’t.” I clasp her hands. “Look, I appreciate you trying to help, but you don’t need to worry about me. I’ve always known I’d marry someone of Papà’s choosing. I’m ready for this. My concerns are nothing I won’t be able to work out once I’m back home. Now, I didn’t come to your wedding to spend the entire time talking about mine. Let’s talk about this week, please.”
The line of her shoulders softens, but there’s a look in her eyes that tells me this won’t be the last conversation we have on this subject. “All right, let’s talk about this week.”
She walks me through the schedule. It’s packed. A family-only cocktail reception tomorrow night, then Martina and Giorgio’s wedding the next day. Two days later, it’s Vale and Dem’s turn. The more Vale talks, the more excited she gets. There’s a glow about her that’s new. She didn’t glow like this back when she lived with us in New York.
“You seem happy,” I tell her when she finishes describing all the events.
She glances at her hand, the one that’s sporting a massive engagement ring and the wedding band from her elopement. “I am. I know we’re already married, but it still feels special to do it with all these people as witnesses. Even Vince is coming. I haven’t seen him in years.”
Our older brother Vince has lived in Switzerland for nearly five years. He rarely comes to New York, and when he does, he doesn’t stay long.
I smile. “It will be good to see him. How many guests are coming?”
“For Mari and Giorgio, there will be around one hundred people in attendance. For ours, there will be a few more.”
Including my fiancé and his consigliere. They’re coming the day before Vale’s wedding.
“Do you need any help with anything?”
“Not really. The planner’s on top of it. But you need to try on your dress to make sure it fits. It’s in my room back at the main house.” She stands up and offers me a hand. “Let’s do it now before we forget. The tailor needs time to make adjustments.”
I follow her out of the bedroom and down the stairs. When we pass by the kitchen, a tempting smell makes my steps slow.
“God, that’s heavenly. Did someone make bread?”
Vale sniffs. “Smells like it.”
I drop her hand and take a few steps to peer through the arched entryway.
On the counter is a basket filled with those delicious-looking buns Mamma wouldn’t let me eat.
“You coming?” Vale calls out.
“Yeah.” After a moment’s hesitation, I snatch one, break off a piece, and shove it in my mouth.
It’s still warm. It’s so damn good I barely feel any guilt over breaking my pre-wedding diet. Whichever staff member decided to drop these off is officially my favorite person.
We leave the guest house and make our way over to the main villa. The air is warm and humid, and the slight breeze carries the scent of the waves that crash over the big rocks at the edge of the property. The heat penetrates my skin. My hip still aches from when I fell, but I do my best not to show it.
As we walk along the stone path between the houses, I spy a few red hummingbirds buzzing close to the branches of a nearby tree. One of them spots a flower and dips its long beak inside.
It’s lovely here. I wish we could stay for longer than a week.
I’m about to voice that thought as we step through the side door that leads directly into the living room, but my words dry up when I see the man spread out on the couch.
Ras. He’s horizontal, one tanned arm folded beneath his head, the other holding his phone. He’s typing something, a slight line between his brows.
My gaze skates over his flexed biceps. He was wearing a dress shirt at lunch, but he’s changed into a fitted black T-shirt with a small logo stitched in the corner.
“I thought you were going to Revolvr?” Vale asks. Revolvr is one of Damiano’s clubs on the island.
Ras looks up, his gaze immediately locking on me. “Yeah, I’m about to go. Just had to take care of some things. What are you two doing?”
“Gemma needs to try on her dress to see if it fits.”
He sits up, still staring at me. “If you want my opinion, I’m available.” A smirk plays on his lips, but there’s something darker than usual behind it. A challenge. Like he’s waiting for me to figure something out.
I look away.
Whatever it is, I don’t care.
And he can shove his opinions up his ass. I’ve got enough of those to deal with as is. “I think we’ll survive,” I retort, keeping my gaze away from him as I move toward the stairs.
“Is Ras going to be around all week?” I ask once we’re inside Vale and Dem’s bedroom.
“Probably,” she says, disappearing inside the walk-in closet.
“Great,” I mutter to myself.
She comes out a few moments later with a white garment bag and hands it to me. “Why do you dislike him so much? I get you met him in less-than-ideal circumstances, but I thought you would have moved past that by now.”
Less than ideal circumstances? Ras accosted me in an empty change room and manhandled me with far more force than he should have used. He scared the shit out of me. I literally thought I was about to die. And he’s never even apologized for it.
He treats it like a funny joke.
I take the dress into the bathroom, not wanting to risk Vale seeing the bruise that’s most likely forming on my hip. “I don’t trust him.”
“He’s never been anything but loyal to Damiano,” Vale calls out.
Hanging the bag on a hook, I tug on the zipper. He might be loyal to Damiano, but what does that have to do with me?
The scene I witnessed the last time I was here flashes inside my mind, the memory of it as fresh as if it happened yesterday. I overheard Damiano and Ras talking in the office. Well, more like Damiano was listening to Ras run his mouth about me and my family. He joked I had a few screws loose, which didn’t wound me, but what he said next has stayed with me ever since.
“You don’t need to keep your word on that counterfeits deal, Dem. Garzolo is an asshole. Once we’ve gotten what we wanted from him, we should cut him off. It’ll be fun to watch him scramble.”
That told me everything I needed to know about him. Ras is a snake. His word means nothing. It’s a good thing my brother-in-law is different. I heard him rebuff his underboss and say he’d given his word.
To which Ras scoffed.
Even now, the memory makes me angry. He was ready to throw my family under the bus just to have a laugh.
I want nothing to do with him.
Quickly, I slip the dress on and come back out. “He’s rude.”
Vale arches a brow. “Rude? When has he ever been rude to you?”
“Constantly. He always has this mocking smile on his face when he speaks to me.”
Vale comes up behind me and starts buttoning up the dozen or so buttons at the back. “I think you’re reading too much into it. Ras can be rough around the edges, but he means well.”
I straighten the dress, examining it in the mirror.
It fits perfectly.
Should I tell Vale what I heard Ras say?
No, there’s no point. She probably wouldn’t even care. It’s clear she’s focused on her new life here and not our family.
She said she wanted a clean break from New York.
But me? I’m never getting out.
