“My father insists on the date, and that you move to Minneapolis right after the wedding and prepare to become Underboss.”
Pietro looked away, running a hand through his hair. “I don’t feel comfortable being married to Ines when she’s only seventeen.”
“I assume because of the sexual aspect of your marriage,” I said in a low voice, even if I bristled at the idea of it.
Pietro gave me a pained look.
“We don’t have the bloody sheets tradition anymore. You can wait the ten months until Ines’ birthday. Marriage doesn’t mean you have to have sex.”
Pietro stared down at the bar. “Dante,” he said quietly, but the doubt rang loud in that one word. He raised his head.
I wasn’t blind. Ines was a very beautiful woman. Her blonde hair and blue eyes were desired by many men, and her tall frame added to her appeal. Pietro would be as good a husband as a man of his or my disposition could be. He was also a man—a man who’d have the right to a very beautiful woman he’d share a house and bed with.
“I’d never force Ines, you know that.”
“Ines has been brought up to be dutiful and her duty is to give her body to you. Force won’t be necessary, Pietro. You know that as well as I do.” My voice had become sharper.
“I don’t know if… if I’m strong enough to resist that long.” He searched my eyes. “Could you resist for months if your beautiful wife shared a bed with you every night?”
I prided myself on my self-control. Was I absolutely sure I could resist? No, but I wouldn’t reveal that to Pietro. “Yes.”
Pietro shook his head with a chuckle. “Then you’re a stronger man than me.”
* * *
Their wedding took place next year in August as Father insisted.
I kept an eye on Ines and Pietro at the wedding, trying to read their interactions to gauge how forceful my warning for Pietro would have to be. My eyes drifted to Carla who stood by herself, clinging to a glass of water. Her parents were dancing. I made a beeline for her. She spotted me and quickly averted her eyes in the demure way she had. I held out my hand. “Would you dance with me?”
“Of course.”
We danced for a while in silence before I bridged the subject that had been bothering me. “Are you sure you want to marry me?”
Her eyes grew wide. “Absolutely. We marry in three months… do we?”
I inclined my head. It had taken considerable effort to convince Father to have the wedding the same year as Ines’ but I didn’t want to wait. Carla’s parents were very conservative and she had already turned eighteen several months ago. “You seemed reluctant.”
“I’m not, honestly. I’m only keeping my distance considering we’re not married yet.” She gave me her first honest smile of the day.
“Three months.”
She smiled a bit wider, blushing, and nodded, and as usual, a sense of calm flooded me in her presence. After my dance with Carla, I headed toward my brother-in-law to deal with the second matter on my list.
Pietro laughed at something Rocco said. Since the old Scuderi’s death and Rocco had taken over as Consigliere his demeanor had changed. Now nobody called him Squirt anymore. Freed of his father and brother, he showed that he was a Scuderi through and through, not as depraved as them but cunning and brutal. A good Consigliere, one who was loyal to me, not my father.
“I’d like to have a word with you.”
Pietro nodded and followed me to a secluded area.
“You remember a year ago you told me Jacopo was a monster and that Ines shouldn’t be given to him.”
Pietro watched Ines talk to Carla before he turned back to me, brows pulling together. “Of course. I’m glad he got killed.”
“I hope you’ll prove tonight and every day that follows that you are a better man than Jacopo, that you deserve my sister,” I said quietly, stepping closer to him.
Pietro held my gaze. “If I don’t, will the Bratva give me an early end as well?”
“I hope it won’t come to it.”
“It won’t. And not because I fear the consequences.” His expression was hard. “If you’ll excuse me, I need to talk to my wife.”
* * *
I was tense, had been all night and all morning. Pietro and Ines finally stepped in and applause sounded. I didn’t join in. Pietro had his arm wrapped possessively around Ines’ waist, but Ines was leaning into him, seeking his closeness and protection as the force of everyone’s attention hit her. She held her head high despite the slight blush on her cheeks. She peered up at Pietro without a hint of fear and he returned her gaze with adoration. When he noticed my attention, his expression smoothed, turned into blank calm. He gave me a curt nod, and I returned it because one look at my sister told me he’d treated her the way she deserved it. Maybe betraying the Outfit for my sister would eventually come with a price, but I was willing to pay it.
Ines—the first woman I betrayed the Outfit for.
It was only the beginning.
THE SECOND BETRAYAL
Dante
12 years later
I held Carla’s hand, pressed my lips against her knuckles. Her skin was ashen, her breathing labored, pained… I raised my eyes, found her watching me with tired, sad eyes. “I’m sorry I could never give you children.”
I shook my head, touched her cheek and pressed a kiss to her dry lips. “Carla, nothing of this matters.”
“This is all a part of God’s plan, my love.”
I didn’t say anything. In all the years, Carla’s faith had never rubbed off on me, no matter how hard she’d tried. I wasn’t a believer, now less than ever. If there was a God and this was his plan, I’d never forgive him.
“Don’t… don’t be angry. Don’t let it consume you.”
I’d have given her the world. But this wasn’t something I could promise. Anger was already boiling in my chest, waiting to spill forth.
“Will you pray with me?”
I cupped her hands, nodding and lowered my head. Carla’s whispered prayers bounced off my rising despair. Carla was everything good in my life. She contrasted me. Without her… what would I become?
* * *
The morphine wasn’t strong enough to make Carla’s waking hours bearable—unless the doctors gave her so much that her state was almost comatose.
I held her hand as she whimpered, her face sunken in completely. Few of my enemies had suffered under my torture as much as Carla did in the last days of her life. It wasn’t fair. Nothing could make me believe otherwise.
“I know suicide is sin, but I want this to be over. I just want it to stop.” She swallowed. “I can’t… take anymore.”
I froze. I’d known it was only a matter of time before we’d have to say goodbye, but Carla’s words threw the stark reality of it into my face.
I kissed her hand. “It’s not really suicide if death comes through my hand, my love.”
“Dante—”
“I’ve done worse.” That was a lie. This would break the last human part in me, but if anyone was worth that sacrifice, it was Carla.