Page 3 of Stolen Union

“I just love your home,” Antonio was saying to Rocco. “I want to have a home like this someday.”

So, he’s a suck-up. No wonder Rocco picked him.

“I expect you to give Gabriella the life she’s accustomed to,” Rocco said. “You already own your own home.”

“Oh, I do. But your house is much nicer.”

Honestly, how much of a suck-up can he be?

Antonio turned to me, and I had no choice but to smile as he said, “I look forward to a life with you, Gabriella.”

“Oh, great. So, what will we be doing?”

He frowned. “Well, I’ll be working, and you’ll be a stay-at-home mom. Of course, after we have children.”

I shuddered. God, children? I can barely take care of myself, let alone another person. And did I even want children any time soon?

“I expect us to have children by the end of next year,” he said, still talking.

“Next year?” I could feel my eyes practically bug out of my head.

Rocco cleared his throat. “Those talks can be done later. For now, I just wanted you two to meet.”

“And I’m glad we did,” Antonio said, kissing my hand.

I expected to feel … something, anything, but all I felt was the urge to rip my hand away from him.

I knew at that moment the last thing I wanted to do was marry Antonio. He weirded me out.

What was I going to do?

Deep down, I knew part of why I didn’t want to marry Antonio. There was another man I couldn’t stop thinking about. One who was the definition of bad. One I could never be with because he tried to kill my brother and take over. He also kidnapped me and Lara before we escaped.

He was not a good man, yet I hadn’t stopped thinking about him for the past year.

Dante Romano.

I knew it was wrong of me, so I never told Rocco about my thoughts. If someone could crucify thoughts, my brother would find a way.

So, I kept it to myself, and I’ve been living with Dante’s face in my mind for a year. I don’t know how to push it away. I hated him for what he did.

But staring into Antonio’s face, I thought that at least Dante would give me a life worth living.

Rocco and I stand outside the doors leading me into the wedding ceremony. In just a few moments, I’ll be Mrs. Antonio Ricci. Gag. Seriously, makes me gag.

“I can see you frowning,” Rocco says, holding onto my arm.

“That’s because I am.”

“You shouldn’t frown. Antonio will expect a smile when you walk down the aisle.”

I only smile wider in response.

Rocco sighs, shaking his head. “I know you didn’t want this, Gabriella. But it’s happening. Make the most of it. For our family, at least.”

“For our family.”

The doors open, and I’m confronted by the sight of a hundred people attending the ceremony, most of whom I don’t even know. That’s the thing about Mafia weddings—they’re a huge affair.

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