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.
Tessa grabbed a chair shoving it under the door to block anyone from coming in as Sammie grabbed my hand, yanking it towards her. All of them crowded around, inspecting the diamond on my finger without saying a word.
Their silence scared me
“Did you lose a bet?” Maddie asked, speaking first, heading towards the small window and propping it open as she lit a cigarette. Sammie and Tessa headed over to join her as Becca threw a reassuring arm around me giving me a squeeze like she knew I needed the contact.
These four girls were my life.
We protected each other, loved each other, and survived by being in each other’s life. I wasn’t surprised they had used Find a Friend to track me down and confront me about my engagement.
“Do you love him?” Becca asked, she knew about love and the sacrifice that it was. She had been hurt before and still hadn’t been able to heal from it.
Yet here she was, wanting a love story for me.
My eyes rolled as I headed over snatching Tessa’s cigarette from her hand and leaning against the wall as I took a drag out of it.
I wasn’t a smoker unless stressed out and right now was one of those times.
My friends knew a lot but they didn’t know who my father was or what sort of work he was into. They thought that he was just an Italian with a lot of connections because he was involved in a lot of clubs around town.
I didn’t have the heart to tell them my father killed people for a living and was really good at his job.
Didn’t seem like the sort of thing you could tell people.
Except I could tell Dante.
I could share my whole life with him, not holding back any of the details to preserve his innocence. His soul was stained just as much as mine.
Dante was connected to all this and I didn’t have to hold secrets of my life from him. There would be no scaring him away because he had probably killed people too.
And for some reason that made me feel free.
“No. I don’t love him. I don’t believe in love. And I don’t lose bets.” I added in to answer the past question. They knew all too well about how we gambled with things, “My parents had an arranged marriage. It was something my mother talked about before she got sick. She wanted me to have someone, that safety net that my father gave her. It was her wish.”
It was true.
My mother had been worried about me as she died. Afraid that I’d be all alone. There had been some comfort she got from my friendships but she wanted something like my papa gave to her.
The security of a man was an old school idea. I didn’t feel like I needed anyone other than my friends. But the love for my parents had me trapped.
