No. Love isn’t for us. This man imprisoned me. He’s taking me as his bride out of a sense of duty. No more, no less. I turn my back to him, searching the crowd for Angelina, since she’s been swallowed up in the cousins and aunts and uncles that have just met her for the first time.
From an outsider’s perspective, it looks like the most close-knit family you could imagine. Gorgeous, stunning women dressed in designer clothes embrace Angelina and kiss both her cheeks, the Italian custom. Angelina glows beside Orlando, her face flushed pink. I know the real truth, though. I know who these people are. They’re no better than the family I grew up with myself.
Ruthless. Selfish. And the men that lead this family? Monsters.
I hold my head high and walk to the edge of the small garden that surrounds the church. It’s late April in the north of Boston, a bit cloudy but otherwise warm. A scattering of green buds raising their bold little faces upward border the little garden with statues of saints and the Virgin Mary. Someone’s gardened recently, welcoming the advent of spring.
“April showers bring May flowers,” I whisper to myself as I reach a paved pathway that leads to a bench. It’s rained steadily for days. Today’s the first dry day we’ve had in ages.
I sit on the bench, and my wrist begins to heat.
Goddammit.
I’ve strayed too far from His Fucking Highness, and this medieval contraption he’s configured for my wrist has begun to warn me. I reach for the clasp, even though I know it won’t yield to me. It’s locked, and he has the key.
Some twisted, lonely women might find that hot. Like he’s possessive of me? Yeah, no. I find it controlling and manipulative.
Something inside me seems to snap. I hate that I’m his prisoner. I hate that he thinks he owns me. He hasn’t even married me yet, and he already acts like he’s my husband.
I begin to claw at the bracelet, my fingers digging into the skin around it until it’s red and swollen. “You fucking thing,” I mutter, close to tears. “Fuck you.” The warmth increases, as if it can hear me, just as the bracelet seems to suddenly loosen.
I watch in astonishment as the clasp falls open, and the bracelet falls down my hand to my lap. I gasp, and my eyes quickly scan the crowd to find Tavi.
He’d punish me for this, I know he would.
I fold my hand and hide the bracelet on my lap when I see him, then quickly slide it, unlocked, back on my wrist. He stares at me, still holding the baby, but he’s a good distance away from me at this point. I smile at him and wriggle my fingers. He blinks in surprise. It takes me a minute to realize why. I’ve definitely never been friendly to him before.
“Hey, there, beautiful.”
I look up, startled, to see Ottavio’s youngest sister Marialena heading my way. She smiles broadly, revealing perfectly straight, white teeth, and her gorgeous hazel eyes light up. With her light brown hair that hangs almost to her waist, those large eyes framed with thick, exotic lashes, and her slender figure, the woman could seriously model. All the Rossis could, really. And she’s calling me beautiful?
“Oh, hey. You should consider modeling.”
Eh, why pull punches.
She smiles even broader. “Me? But my face isn’t all symmetrical. Don’t you need a perfectly symmetrical face to model?”
“Looks good to me, but I guess you could model your hands or something.”
“Say it.” She stands in front of me and wiggles her butt. “It’s the ass I should model.”
I laugh out loud. “Definitely the ass, but don’t tell Tavi I was checking you out.”
She rolls her eyes and waves her hand in the general direction of her brothers. “Oh, what-fucking-ever,” she says with a sound of disgust. “You can check my ass out all you want, babe. Anyway, saw you waving to me, thought I’d come over and say hi.” She sits down beside me on the bench and pulls out her phone. “My family will be here forever chatting about nothing, before they go back to The Castle for food. So help me, Tavi better have brought three boxes of those cannolis or we’ll have World War Three on our hands.” She frowns, flipping through notifications on her phone. “Three unfollows. What’s that all about?”
“Why is Tavi in charge of the pastries? Is that his job?”
She blinks at me in surprise and drops her phone to her lap. “Don’t you know? He owns pastry shops in the North End.”
“Really?” I’m intrigued. I’ve always heard the North End was like Boston’s Little Italy, with all the imported Italian food and the rich heritage of Italy on every corner, cobblestoned streets and all.
“Wow,” she says, back scrolling on her phone. “There’s a lot you need to learn about your future husband before you marry him, huh?”
I inwardly cringe and outwardly shrug. “I guess.”
Why? Why does it matter? We’ll be married because we have to be. He won’t be my lover, and I won’t be his. We’ll be little more than a strange concoction of roommate and fuck buddy, I guess.
I hope he knows how to move those powerful hips of his. A girl could forgive a lot from a man who fucks well.
“Well. So for starters…” she taps her chin thoughtfully before grinning, taking a selfie, then sending it out with a swipe of her phone. “Tonight’s a full moon. You know what they say about reading Tarot cards and a full moon?”
I snort. “No, why don’t you tell me.”
I know she’s super into things like Tarot cards and astrology and crystals. I like tangible, real things, things I can touch and see.
“Elise,” she says, rolling her eyes at me. “Listen, babe. Reading Tarot cards during a full moon is the most optimal time to read them, and most especially when you’re right on the verge of a major life change.”
Major life change? My major life change was when Piero died. Getting married to Tavi will only be a matter of course.
“Yeah.” I shrug. “Okay. Does Angelina do it with you?”
Marialena nods her head eagerly. “Yup. Loves them. Rosa, she couldn’t care less and Mama thinks they’re the work of the Devil.” She shrugs. “But the clearest answers are always during a full moon, because it reflects the improved intuition of your diviner…” She points both thumbs at herself. “Which is me, by the way. The most compelling Tarot reading you could get is during the full moon cycle.”
“So… why don’t you read yours?” I ask, stifling a laugh.
“Oh, honey, I so will. Trust me. Hey, that’s a pretty gold bracelet you’ve got there.”
Pretty? Ha. She can have the damn thing. “Thanks.” I slide it gently along my wrist, afraid it’s magically fastened itself back together, and give a little sigh of relief when I feel it still loose and unlocked. I’d give it to her if the possessed little torture device didn’t heat on its own. I don’t want to surprise her or hurt her in any way.
“So what do you say, Elise? Come with Angelina and let me read your cards tonight.”
I shrug. “If Tavi will let me.”
She stands and gives me a bold wink. “He will. Trust me. I’ll talk with him.” She does seem to have some sway over her brothers. How much, I have no idea.