by Reilly, Cora
As if he could smell my train of thought, Rocco got up and walked toward the door, opening it. “Aria! Come down here for a moment.” Rocco returned to the table and exchanged a look with Father. I knew what they were thinking, what so many people in the Outfit were thinking.
The Golden Couple. The name carried in whispers through our circles, had started to do so even before Carla’s body had turned cold, had begun the moment word about her cancer had gotten out. I’d ignored it but it had grown to a dimension that made it impossible to keep doing so. I was left with two choices if I didn’t want to appear weak, because grieving a dead woman was nothing but weakness in the eyes of so many of Father’s loyal men. Either I married Aria, or I gave her to Luca.
Within a couple of minutes, she walked into the living room, dressed in a pale blue dress, her blonde hair up in a messy ponytail. Her eyes widened as she spotted us, too young to school her features quick enough. She came over, hands clasped in front of her belly, trepidation reflecting on her face. For a moment, her eyes met mine before she ducked her head and turned to Rocco. “Yes, Father?”
My eyes trailed over her, trying to imagine how I could be a husband to that girl. I couldn’t possibly allow closeness in the physical, much less the emotional sense to her. The idea of sharing a bed with her, of pretending I could care about her, it stirred up my insides, until anger and sorrow were inseparable until my need to dish out the same pain that consumed me got overwhelming. Maybe Luca would break her with cruelty, but maybe he wouldn’t. I didn’t know.
What I knew without a doubt was that I would break her with my sorrow-tinged darkness, that I’d eventually vent my anger on her because she dared to take the spot at my side nobody deserved but the woman that I’d buried mere days ago.
“We want a drink. Head over to the cigar lounge and get glasses and the bottle of my favorite scotch for us.”
She nodded quickly before she turned and walked off. I wouldn’t marry Aria. I couldn’t.
“She’s beautiful and young,” Father said to me.
“She is.” My voice didn’t reflect my inner turmoil. “Which is why we need to give her to Luca Vitiello. It’ll send him the message that we’re determined to give him the best we can offer. If peace is our intention, we don’t have a choice.”
Disappointment flickered across Father’s wrinkled face but he inclined his head. Rocco didn’t seem too sad either, after all, his daughter would be given to a future Capo either way. “There’s still Gianna.”
“Father,” I said firmly. “I won’t marry Gianna either, or anyone else. We have other things to focus on.”
He knew me well enough to realize I wouldn’t budge on the subject now that I had made up my mind. I didn’t want to marry again soon, or ever. The memory of Carla was my companion and the success of the Outfit my mission in life, there was no room for anything else.
I’d sworn to put the Outfit above all else, especially a woman, but here I was refusing a bond because of my love for Carla. Not marrying posed a risk in our circles. It suggested I was struggling with my late wife’s death and that was admittance of weakness above all else. If the Outfit appeared weak, our enemies might try to attack. Not to mention that I needed an heir, a boy who could become Capo when I retired or got killed.
Yet I couldn’t marry, not yet. Maybe never.
It was betrayal of my oath, but the vows to Carla meant more to me. They always would.
Three years later
I regarded Aria as she huddled beside Luca. Despite the splendid white dress and her bright smile, it was obvious to me that her wedding wasn’t a day of joy for her. It didn’t come as a surprise, considering her husband. Luca’s vigilant eyes kept returning to me, like a lion who smelled another predator in his territory.
He wasn’t someone I would have tolerated in my vicinity under normal circumstances, but normal had become an even harder to grasp concept in these last three years.
Mother put her hand over mine. “Don’t you think it’s time for you to take it off?”
I released my wedding band, which I had been twisting around my finger, pulled my hand away and stood. “Excuse me, I think it’s expected of me to grace the dance floor with my presence.” My mother’s face reflected the same reproach her words had carried but guilt trips had long lost their impact on me.
But her interference was appreciated anyway. I needed to keep up appearances at a time like this and hanging on to the past publicly wasn’t something I could risk. Ines and Pietro had barely left the dance floor, one of the few couples who were as happy behind closed doors as they appeared on the outside, like Carla and I had been.
I shoved the thoughts aside and my eyes came to rest on Valentina once more. She stood off to the side, talking to Bibiana Bonello. I purposefully went over to her and her demeanor changed from relaxed to sophisticated tension the moment she noticed my approach. She’d lost her husband less than a year ago and her father had started looking for a new husband for her a couple of weeks ago. I held out my hand. “Would you like to dance?”
Surprise flickered in her green eyes but she accepted my invitation and let me lead her toward the dance floor. Silence stretched between us as we began to sway to the music, and I considered the woman in my arms. From the moment Valentina’s father Giovanni had started looking for a new husband for his daughter, an idea had started forming in my mind. Valentina had lost her husband recently, and would still be crippled by her own sorrow, which in turn would make her reluctant to seek my closeness, at least emotional. As for the physical aspect of a possible bond, I had no trouble admitting that I was attracted to her, as were most of the men present tonight. Valentina was elegant and beautiful.
Moreover, she was experienced, which might make her undesirable in my parents’ eyes but perfect for my purposes. A virgin bride required gentleness and care I didn’t have to spare but Valentina might be up for the angry sex I craved if only to battle her own demons into silence.
“I’m sorry for your loss. I haven’t told you personally so far.”
Sadness flickered in her eyes. “Thank you. It means a lot coming from someone who understands what it means.”
My chest constricted but my mask remained perfectly still.
“Not everyone comprehends that it takes time to overcome sorrow.” Her eyes darted briefly to her father who talked to Rocco.
She was obviously unhappy about his attempts to remarry her so quickly, another fact that made her the perfect option. After the dance ended, my decision was made. I’d discuss a possible union with her father as soon as my own had agreed.
As expected, Father wasn’t excited about my choice. “She’s been married before, Dante. Do you really want a woman that’s been claimed by another man? In a few months, you’ll be Capo. You can have any girl you desire, why opt for second-hand ware?”
I stifled my annoyance and kept up my stern expression as I shoved my hands into my pockets. “It’s either her or no one. I don’t want a young girl at my side. Valentina is perfectly capable to give me what I need.”
Father sighed, his milky blue eyes trying to stare me down, but he’d grown old and the only thing that protected him from an early grave was the fact that I respected Mother and knew that many men looked up to my father despite his many faults.
“Talk to Giovanni. I’m sure he’ll jump at the chance to make the match.”
Without another word, I headed out of his office and continued out of my parents’ house toward my car as I sent Giovanni a message that I’d be coming over for a business matter.
I didn’t see Valentina or her mother anywhere when Giovanni led me into his office, obviously confused by my appearance. “Is something the matter, Dante? I’m confident that our men will keep Grigory’s soldiers in check.”
“That’s not why I’m here.” I accepted the drink he held out to me before I sank down on the sofa. Giovanni sat across from me, a flicker of unease in his eyes. Did he think I was here because I’d remo
ve him from his position as Underboss now that I’d become the Boss of the Outfit? After all, we were the only mob family where the Capo allowed an Underboss in his own city.
“Have you found a husband for your daughter yet?”
He lowered his glass with a look of confusion. “I have a couple of suitors who’d be willing to accept a widow. They are soldiers like Antonio but I hadn’t really expected that I’d manage to find a better match for her. I should have never agreed to her marriage to Antonio in the first place, but I wanted to see her happy and now see where it’s gotten us.” He shook his head and opened the button of his jacket as he relaxed in the chair.
I nodded even if it didn’t matter to me. “If she isn’t promised to someone yet, I’d ask you to give me her hand in marriage.”
Giovanni coughed as he choked on his scotch, his eyes watering. “Excuse me?”
“I’d like to marry your daughter, if that’s agreeable for you.”
Giovanni stared at me for so long, I wondered if he’d suffered a stroke, then he laughed. When I didn’t fall in, he fell silent and he cleared his throat. “You’re being serious.”
“I am. I want to marry Valentina in January before I take over as Boss.”
Giovanni sank back against the backrest, releasing a low breath as he ran a hand through his hair, looking seriously stunned. “I didn’t expect that.”
“I can see that.”
“Does your father agree to you marrying someone who isn’t pure?”
My lips tightened. “I don’t ask for permission, Giovanni. You know as well as I do that I already rule over the Outfit. My word is law.”
Giovanni nodded, swirling his drink in its glass and shaking his head again. “Why my daughter, Dante?”
I hadn’t expected that question. “I thought you’d be happy about a union between Valentina and me.”
“Don’t get me wrong, I am, and Livia will undoubtedly be ecstatic to have you as her son-in-law, especially after all the trouble Orazio has been giving us,” he said quickly, but he didn’t look it. He took another sip, obviously weighing his next words. “But you have nothing to gain from a union like that.”
“I’ll gain a beautiful wife and a mother for my children.”
“There are dozens of girls in our territory that could give you the same thing with the added bonus of you being their first husband.”
“I’m not interested in having a teenage girl at my side, nor do I see an advantage of being with a virgin.”
Giovanni grimaced and something in his eyes changed. It was a subtle change but one I noticed because I’d learned to pay attention to the little details. He was a man who’d switched from asking as my Underboss to interrogating me as Valentina’s father. “You know me, Dante, I mind my own business, but in my position, I’d have to be deaf not to hear the occasional tidbit of gossip.” His eyes held mine. “I know you used to frequent the Palermo. Tommaso and Raffaele are men who like to hear themselves talk, you know that.”
“Say what you have to say,” I said coldly, even though I had a feeling I knew where this was going.
“According to their words, and I quote ‘you went there to fuck your anger out of your system’.”
“How I spend my nights is my business and so are my sexual preferences.”
“They are, unless you intend to use Val to get rid of your anger. She isn’t a virgin, all right, but I won’t have her abused because you think your conscience will give you less trouble with an experienced woman.”
Giovanni was a loyal soldier, a good Underboss and a better man than I’d realized. Rocco like so many other men would have handed his daughters over to me no questions asked, but Giovanni wanted to protect Valentina and I respected him for it, which was why I’d cut him slack for the way he’d talked to me. “I don’t have a conscience that could give me trouble,” I bit out. “But I can assure you I won’t abuse Valentina, virgin or not. You know my stance on domestic violence and rape, Giovanni. You were at my side when I tried to rule it over.”
He tilted his head but his expression remained wary.
I considered what to tell him. He had been right that I wanted Valentina because I hoped she’d be willing to settle for a bond of convenience that extended to angry sex. I wasn’t looking for closeness or love but a way to fulfill my duty to the Outfit. If this bond allowed me to fuck my anger out of my system without using whores, that would be an added bonus but only if Valentina wanted the same. “I want your daughter as my wife because we’ve both lost someone and that’s a base we can build a mutually beneficial bond on.”
“That’s a reason I can accept, but I’m not sure if Val shares our views.”
“She seems like a woman who sees reason. I’m sure she’ll agree this is the best solution for both of us.”
“I’m sure she will,” he said slowly. There was a note to his voice I couldn’t place but it was irrelevant.
“Is it settled then?”
He raised his glass. “It is.”
We clinked glasses and downed our drinks then I left, having more pressing business to attend to now that the problem of my marriage was settled.
The wedding wasn’t as splendid as could be expected from a man in my position but it was bigger than I would have liked.
Valentina was a beautiful bride, elegant sophistication in her cream-colored dress. My attention should have been on her—only her—from the moment she set foot inside the church, even more so when she arrived at my side and her father handed her over to me.
And yet, I struggled to stay in the present, to not be taken back many years to another wedding ceremony, to another woman. The woman who still haunted my nights with her sorrow-filled eyes.
When it was time for our kiss, my insides tightened. I hadn’t kissed a woman since Carla’s death. It was too intimate a gesture, too emotional. But Valentina was my wife and everyone expected us to share a kiss.
I didn’t show my conflict, didn’t allow a moment of hesitation, as I lowered my mouth to Valentina’s waiting lips. The reluctance I’d expected at this intimate contact didn’t come, the guilt, however, crashed down on me like an avalanche. I pulled back, catching Valentina’s searching expression, and turned to the guests. Valentina thought our marriage would allow her to pry behind my walls—she’d soon be disillusioned.
The wedding was a string of meaningless conversations, stilted smiles and congratulations I could hardly accept. Dancing was only marginally better.
I released Aria after our obligatory dance and she quickly returned to Luca’s side while I left the dance floor to clear my head for a bit. Orazio stood off to the side by himself and I headed his way. He stood a bit straighter as he noticed my approach. “Dante,” he said, his eyes wary. Our relationship had always been distant, and I doubted it would change now.
“Have you and your father settled your dispute?”
“It can hardly be called a dispute. He told me his opinion and expects me to follow his command.”
I nodded. “Our world is dominated by old rules that can’t be overrun easily. Often it feels like there’s only duty and little choice.”
Orazio’s mouth tightened. “I know. Duty is a word I’m all too familiar with.”
I searched his eyes. “Giving up someone we care about is never easy, but a marriage of convenience can be mutually beneficial.” Even to my own ears the words sounded hollow. My eyes followed Matteo as he bowed in front of Valentina and pulled her close against him. Anger surged through me at his open lack of respect.
“Is that what Valentina is to you—convenient?”
I slanted Orazio a sharp look. “I won’t discuss my marriage with you. Nor will I get involved in your matters.”
Orazio looked away. “If you’d talk to my father, he may see reason.”
“I can’t get involved in family matters. Your father has always been a loyal man.”
Valentina’s laughter carried through the room.
My gaze found her as s
he smiled broadly over something Matteo must have said.
“Excuse me,” I told Orazio, who merely nodded, and made my way over to Valentina and Matteo. For some unexplainable reason, it didn’t sit well with me that Valentina seemed completely at ease with Matteo. His charm was notorious.
“I think it’s my turn again,” I said as I reached them, my voice clipped.
Matteo’s mouth twitched. “Of course. Who could stay away from such dark beauty for long?” Then he kissed Valentina’s hand in a way that made my blood boil. The open provocation spoke to the dark fury that had lain dormant beneath a thin layer of control all day. Valentina gripped my hand before I could decide if killing Matteo would give me the necessary satisfaction to warrant war with the Famiglia. Aria was clever enough to drag Matteo away.
“I thought you wanted to dance with me?” Valentina’s words interrupted my thoughts.
I pulled her against me and began to lead her over the dance floor, even if the soft music didn’t compliment my pounding pulse.
“What did he say?” I asked.
“Hm?”
“What made you laugh?”
“He made a joke about bushes.”
A hint of embarrassment flickered across Valentina’s face.
“He should be more careful.”
“I think he’s a bit tense because of the problems between Gianna and him.”
“From what I hear, he’s always been volatile, even before his engagement to the Scuderi girl.”
“Not everyone is as controlled as you are.”
