Page 29 of Isle of Beauty

I wish the mafia was progressive in that regard but it seems that in the underworld, advanced rights for women are already enough; they don’t know the word “intersectionality”. It doesn’t matter that Alessio and dad love Julian just the way he is and would accept his relationship with Igor in a heartbeat. My knuckles blanch as I clench my fingers into fists and take deep intakes of breath to avoid losing my shit over this.

Julian and I agreed that our sham of a marriage would be the perfect cover for them to love each other in the dark. At least they’ll get a sliver of happiness and not risk their lives every time they let their hands brush in public. It’s not enough, and it’s only temporary. Our families are strong enough to go to war for him but right now, we both need protection.

Until I can beat some sense into every single old asshole who can’t open up to the basic human right to love who you want, we have that precarious solution. Hell, most of these old fucks are probably still stuck on “love is a weakness” bullshit. They’ll sell their kids and wives to prove a point.

Julian moves to stand next to me and soothes his hand up and down my back. My muscles relax ever so slightly at the show of support.

My father’s index tap against his glass, his only tell that I’m testing his patience. “Spit it out, figliola.”

“Julian and I will marry next month. It isn’t a lot of time to grieve for my late husband but everyone in our world will understand. I’ll put Eduardo’s affairs in order and fully integrate his company into Moretti Holding, then we can plan a grand wedding. It’s the most logical thing to do since Julian and I have known each other all our lives. We know we won’t betray each other’s trust. Our alliance is already strong through friendship and mayhem.”

I smirk at him and he tilts his glass to me in a mocking salute.

Silence follows the bomb I just dropped and time seems suspended for a minute. I’m holding my breath. I don’t want to have to argue this point with either Pietro Moretti or Alessio Bartoli. I’m fearless but not reckless. If they don’t agree, we’re fucked.

Alessio rises from his seat and embraces his son, saying something I can’t hear, then kisses me on both cheeks. “I’ve always considered you as a daughter, mia cara nora.” He smiles at me and a weight lifts off my shoulders.

My father does the same, embracing me with a hand at the back of my head, clutching me to him like he can’t stand to be parted from me ever again. His eyes shine with more emotions than I’ve seen him display before, even at my sister Angèle’s wedding, pride and relief mixing in his dark brown gaze. “He’ll take good care of you and protect you. You’ll never have to suffer again.”

THIRTEEN

PIERCE

THE HEIR

My face is stoic but my insides burn with acid when a big client announces me that they’re moving to none other than fucking Andrea Capaldi’s business. I swear my shit-head cousin takes pleasure in stealing from me. It’s the second client in six months.

Louis disappeared from the surface of the Earth three years ago after Giulia and - fuck, I still can’t say her name because I don’t even know her real name - left. I’ve had a hard time finding a good replacement for his position as Financial Director of the company. I’m on my fourth person in three years and every time they quit or I fire them, I have to pull in the extra hours.

It hindered my progress to find her. I’m sleeping four hours a night scouring reports my new connection sends me. It’s never her and my patience is hanging by a thread.

Somehow, I can feel her close, the whispers of her voice haunting my every move. The rage simmers beneath my skin, ready to tear the flesh open and burn her along with me.

I can’t wait for the moment she pays.

My phone rings with the tune I attributed to my brother, Julian, and breaks my sweet daydream of retribution.

“What happened?” I say in ways of greeting.

He rarely calls. Foreboding seeps into my bones like poison. “Can’t a man call his big bro to know how he’s doing? I haven’t heard from you in what? Six months? And barely before that.”

He sounds hurt. We’ve never been close but from the time he was fifteen, he used to spend summers with me in London, showing up one day and refusing to leave until we got to know each other. He held onto me like a leech and though I’d never admit it, especially to him, I’d never been more grateful. Having a brother filled a missing place in my heart. At first, he made me feel like I was less - why I would want my rapist father’s attention remains a mystery - but the truth is that he’s a breath of fresh air and nothing like the monster who sired him.

I stay silent because I have no clue what to say. He’s right. I haven’t kept in contact in the past years. His visits stopped three years ago when he took on a more permanent role within our father’s criminal empire and that decision made it harder to fully dissociate him from the man I hate.

The fact that my sunshine brother chose to work with our father, chose this mafia life set out for him eats at me. I’d have given him a job, a house, the clothes off my back if he’d asked me to help him out of that hell hole.

Guilt tears at my gut, my throat tightens and I rub at my chest where I can feel a starting ache. I shouldn’t begrudge him for the sins of our father.

Julian sighs on the other side of the phone and drops the bomb that’s going to change everything. “I’m getting married next month and I’d like you to be my best man.”

I’m taken aback. This is huge. I’ve been obsessing over a one-night-stand for three years and my baby brother is getting married. Fuck. Now, I feel like an idiot. I had no clue Julian was seeing someone and that it was so serious. I really suck at this brotherly thing.

“That’s when you say ‘thank you, baby bro, I’m honoured, tell me the day and time, and I’ll be there for you’. I’ve never asked you anything, asshole. Be there for me, okay, that’s all I need from you. You don’t even need to make a speech.” His voice breaks and I hear him take a loud inbreath as if to calm himself.

He shouldn’t feel so much anxiety at asking me to be there for the best day of his life. I’ll do whatever he asks of me. “Thank you, Jules. I’d be honoured. Who’s the unlucky girl?”

I don’t really give a shit because she’s probably some mafia princess and I’m trying my best to stay as far away from that world as possible, but if she makes my brother happy, that’s all that matters. At least one of us is. Makes sense it would be him.

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