Toying with the silver blade as I wondered if I could get to him fast enough or if he would stop it with a single motion, making my attempt look weak.

And I did not want to look weak.

This was the only thing reigning me in from the stabbing I wanted to do.

Dante had his left arm tossed over the back of my chair. The whole time he had been wrapping a fallen curl around his finger or moving his hand to fully rest on my shoulder when he wanted me to look at him.

He played his part so well and I wanted to be furious with him but the way my father was looking at him, that twinkle of happiness dancing in his eyes for the first time in what felt like ages stopped me.

Dante was the son he had never gotten, a hope for the future my father had given up on when he lost his mother.

I was to carry on my fathers dreams. My dreams were the victims in all of this but I was okay with that.

Having my father alive like he was right now was worth it. I wanted him to be happy, have something good in his life.

“September 9th seems far.” Luciano tested it out like he was afraid of hurting our feelings. His words pulling me out of my daydreaming as I looked over from the street I had been gazing at and back at him.

He was looking between us, challenging us to not agree with him but who would be dumb enough to say no to the boss?

“And with the feasts in August…” he made a sound like what could be done and I looked over at Dante who was tensing beside me. He seemed to know where this was going already.

We had picked a date and now we were being told that wasn’t going to happen. The first thing we had done to move forward with this was being taken away from us.

And the way I was looking at Dante, wanting him to say something to fix this but knowing he was as trapped in whatever his parents wanted just as I was. We were just pawns in all of this. No one cared that this was our future that was being dictated. This was our parents’ marriage and they would get their wishes.

“You two could do July 22nd. Get your double digits like the 9/9 you wanted.” Roberta, Dante’s mother offered us this like it was a lifeline. But I was sure that they had all talked about when we would get married and things would already have been in motion.

She had joined us for lunch looking the part of the mafia wife that I was going to have to match. Her eyes had scanned over me when we arrived, looking at me and Dante, trying to get a read on us as we walked up. Judging us silently but with a kind smile that made it seem less harsh.

She was beautiful.

The perfect dark hair coiffed and blown out, full face of makeup despite the heat, black shift dress and black heeled shoes. All looking freshly pressed, no wrinkles or discoloration in the colors.

Mafia wives always looked like they were in mourning, mainly because they were. Though newspapers and media didn’t talk about the bodies, they were still showing up as signs for those who they were meant for. Black was a sign of respect to the families of those lost.

“Dante.” He looked at me and his hand fell on my shoulder, squeezing me like he was hearing me when no one else was.

They wouldn’t listen to me because I was a woman. We all knew that I could say whatever I wanted and would be talked over. I had no status or importance to them right now. I wasn’t his wife yet, just someones daughter. That made me invisible.

“We decided this morning to do September 9th. That will give me the time to have a few successful weekends at The Inferno. As you said papa, there are festivals that we need to think of and going out to September allows us to make sure everyone can be in town to attend our wedding.” Dante spoke calmly, keeping his voice even as he watched them.

My hand went to his thigh, squeezing it in a silent thanks as he looked at me, giving me hope that he was going to be the type of man who stood up for his wife. To fight for me and take my battles as seriously as his. They were rare in our life.

“We’ve already booked the 22nd at St Leonards.” My father sipped his espresso after he dropped that bomb on us.

It wasn’t that surprising to hear plans were already in motion but my stomach still bottomed out.

I was going to throw up.

“All you two need to do is get something to wear for you and your friends and show up. Everyone has been invited. The Sunday paper will have your engagement in it.  You two have made us proud and we will take care of the wedding for you both.” Luciano finished, wiping his mouth like he was annoyed we had spoken up at all about our wedding.

Who the fuck cares if we had opinions about our wedding day?

“You’ll need to get a place closer so that the two of you can get to know each other. We have a place on Tilestone you can stay at.” Roberta offered sweetly.

All these decisions were made for me and I hated it. Hated having to bite my tongue and nod along as my life was explained to me without any input from me in them.

I didn’t want to be a docile little wife.

My mother had known that. If she was here she would speak up for me. She’d have never let them railroad me like this.

The illusion I had that there was some chance I could have a say in my life vanished. There was no way I could say no to a husband now that they had done so much. Maybe before I could have gotten out of it.

Maybe if I hadn’t signed my life away I would be allowed to make decisions for my wedding. But I had signed the marriage contract and my right to decide anything along with it.

Who fucking cares? It’s just my life.

“No, Ilaria will stay with me. Since we now have a closer deadline we need all the time to get to know each other. Can her things be moved this weekend?” Dante’s voice pulled me out of the shock and I looked up, waiting for someone to tell him no.

Apparently the male child can only be told so much before everyone just goes with it. He would be the boss one day, after all. They would have to listen to him sometime.

“Are you okay with that, Ilaria?” My father asked, looking at me as I lifted my hand to sip my coffee.

I wondered if I said no if he would stick up for me and deny Dante. The problem was I didn’t want to say no.

I did want to be in Dante’s vapid penthouse. Maybe breathe life into the dead space.

I nodded my head, hand that was on Dante’s thigh squeezing in a silent thank you for trying gesture. He was stuck in this with me and I could tell he was annoyed that we had been blindsided by them.

At least Dante had given me a heads up that his father was a complete lunatic when he was in the elevator with me. It made this conversation easier because I knew what he was going to do. It gave us a united front to play.

“The penthouse is great. It allows me to commute to work as well as start cooking for Dante and figuring out what his favorite foods are.” I smiled, hoping it was sweet and not predatory. Not that I really cared because I was mad and my fiancée was going to deal with the brunt of my rage.

Feeding him arsenic and my bad attitude as a welcome to married life gift.

But I kept smiling at our families, playing the part as Dante leaned in, kissing my forehead just as I watched my four best friends turn onto Hanover street in a cluster that was sure to fuck everything up.

Oh fuck.

Their eyes landed on me and I shrugged out of Dante’s grip, quicker than was probably polite, as I watched them descend towards me ready to create a scene that was sure to be trouble.

Not the time or the place.

They wouldn’t care though. I had dropped the picture bomb on them and they were here to get the details I hadn’t given up in the group chat.

“Excuse me for a second. I just want to freshen up.” I rushed out, eyes not even meeting anyone at the table.

Dante gave me a look as I grabbed my purse headed inside the restaurant with the four girls all getting the hint and shoving in behind me until we all landed in the bathroom.