Dante Valentino
I couldn't stand my future wife.
Carlina was timid. She smiled a practiced smile every time she looked at me, but she never looked me in the eye. She kept her head bowed. Perfect little wife.
The whole thing made me want to crawl out of my skin.
Danilo was in town with his family and he had insisted on a dinner with me.
"Can I pour you more wine?" Her Italian was broken. From what I knew, she had spent most of her years in a catholic boarding school in America. Her family didn't allow her college.
I shook my head wordlessly, eyeing her shaking hands.
Even her fucking dress was white. It was as if her family was flaunting her virginity.
I loosened my tie. "What brings you to Sicily, Danilo?" I asked the man who looked too happy with his daughter sitting beside me.
"Carlina wanted to get to know her fiance," he said. "She wants to learn how to be a good wife to you."
My trigger finger twitched. "Of course." The smile I have him made him lower his gaze. I was not nearly as crazy as Giovanni, but I was still his brother. These people were fooled by politeness.
"We heard you are getting the Venice mansion ready for the wedding," Carlina's grandmother said. The woman looked evil. She reminded me of my mother. "Do you plan to raise the family there?"
I almost choked on my drink. Family.
Kids.
"Si." That was all I could say. I wasn't going to have a family. Leyla's kid would rule the mafia.
"Mr. Valentino," said Carlina. "W-When do you plan to return to Venice?"
Where the fuck was she when Giovanni and Fabiano were falling in love? She seemed exactly like Leyla to me.
"After I establish the new Underboss of Sicily." I took a sip of water. "It will be after our engagement."
Our engagement was soon. In one month and three weeks.
I was yet to ask my assistant to get a ring.
Carlina nodded wordlessly, fisting the napkin in her hands.
I took in a deep breath and stood. "I'm leaving. Have a nice visit. Carlina can learn how to be good to me after the wedding, we'll have all the time in the world." I buttoned my suit. "Goodbye."
I walked out of the restaurant.
With each passing day, this marriage was managing to piss me off more.
. . .
I entered the house at midnight after beating the shit out of a few men at the arena. Blue was sitting on the couch, a few candles lit around her, and was typing away on her laptop.
She lifted her eyes and peace settled in my heart.
After getting free of Igor, I remembered the first rain. We had been homeless back then, of course. Trying to pick up odd jobs to make the ends meet. I had interviewed several at places, but not many wanted a completely scarred, skinny boy who couldn't talk quite right.
I had been sitting under a bridge after a failed interview and then the rain fell. I remembered the first breath I took, and it smelled like freedom and peace.
Every time I looked at her it was as if I was reliving that moment - the utter peace I had felt back then.
I sat down beside her. "What are you writing, Blue?" I twirled a strand of her hair around my finger.
"I'm just testing out an idea," she said. "My writer's block is crumbling." She smiled.
"I'm proud of you." I caressed her cheek. "It's late, love. We should be sleeping."
"I'm not sleepy," she muttered. "I think I'll stay up through the night. You should go sleep."
I was tired. But I knew sleep would come hesitantly. She looked engrossed in her writing and I didn't want to disturb her.
I pressed my lips on her forehead because I just couldn't help myself when it came to her and went to my room.
. . .
Lily Jenkins
I felt weird around him ever since the ball. Every time I was out in public with him was a slap on the face, a cruel reminder of what people of his world thought of me.
I was prideful. If there was one thing my mothers had taught me, it was to keep my head up. Staying here like this while people thought of me as his whore was taking a toll on me.
No matter how nice he was to me, I couldn't do this.
I needed that stupid mansion to sell. I couldn't hide here forever.
Italy wasn't safe without Dante and none of the other places were safe because of the Creeds.
I sat by his door in utter darkness.
How could he even make this right? Call me his girlfriend? That wouldn't be good for his reputation. He was a Capo. As he said, he was already risking a lot. And here, I wasn't Lily Jenkins.
I was just a bastard. The unwanted child of Pietro.
The door opened just when my eyelids were dropping. He picked me up and opened the door to my room. He set me down on the bed and pulled the covers up to my chin. He stroked my cheek and muttered something in Italian and then, he was gone and I was left to wonder what he had said.
. . .
