Page 16 of Deadly Don's Baby Contract

“This is good,” Giulia says, holding up a green and pink petit four.

The last thing I want to think about now is cake. “It’s the wrong color,” I say.

Giulia rolls her eyes. But it tastes divine. I’m sure they can change the colors. Here, taste it.” She holds it out to me, but I’ve lost my desire to taste any more sweet stuff today.

“I think I’m done for the day. You can add it to the list of cakes we’re taking. Just ask them to make all the cakes, petit fours, and cupcakes with plain white icing, and use blue and silver as decorations.”

“Ooh,” Giulia gushes, “that will look stunning. I will let the master confectioner know about your decision. Mama will be so pleased.”

I force a smile at her before she hurries off, then I leave the room to go to my bedroom. I don’t have much freedom here in the mansion, but at least I can do whatever I please in my room. The mansion also has other rooms I’m allowed in, like the movie theater, the library, the entertainment room, and the sauna, but it’s no fun when you’re by yourself.

In my room, I stew on the fact Franco asked me about my family history. How did he know? Or does he only suspect? I need to avoid his questions. No one can learn about my past and who I really am.

I turn on the TV to distract myself, but it doesn't help. Franco's kissing me earlier reminds me that there may be more to his dark looks than he lets on. He was so against me in the beginning, but now, I'm not so sure anymore. Something changed between us. Our dynamic is different from what it was when we first met. I need to tread carefully if I'm to survive in this family. If Marco finds out I kissed his brother...

The thoughts keep chasing each other through my head, but none of it makes sense. Why would Franco question me about my family and then kiss me? Why didn’t I stop him? My body reacts to him in ways I can’t explain, and maybe I should take a step back and tread a little more carefully.

Dominique taught me well. He taught me how to look after myself, how to protect myself, and how shit in families like this work. I’m not naïve. Then why is this so difficult? What is it about Franco that draws me in like this?

“Urgh,” I groan and go to the bathroom.

I need to distract myself. The bathroom has a massive corner spa bath, which I now fill with hot water, and then I turn on the jets to make it bubble. I slip into the water, add several bath bombs, and then lie back with my eyes closed.

Every girl deserves a bath like this. “Ahh.”

This almost makes up for an arranged marriage. Almost.

I spend the rest of the evening pampering myself with all the goodies provided—probably thanks to Giulia, as I don’t think Claira would have been this kind to me.

When I go to bed, I try not to think of Franco, but I wake up in the middle of the night because Franco kisses me in my dream. I toss and turn, trying to go back to sleep, and I’m groggy when Claira comes to open my curtains in the morning.

I swear, she does it on purpose to rile me up.

“Mr. Marco is here this morning for breakfast. He wishes to see you.”

“I’m up,” I mumble, but I don’t really care what Claira thinks.

The maid leaves, and I climb out of bed. With Marco here, I decide to wear a dress and skip the jeans for today. I find a casual, dark blue Gucci dress that’s long enough to cover me to my ankles but leaves my arms bare. It’s pretty and accentuates my figure, but it isn’t too sexy.

I knot my hair into a messy bun, letting a few strands escape to curl around my face, apply some light makeup, put on small hoop earrings, and then go to the dining room.

The sound of many voices drifts out of the room as I approach, and I hesitate. When Sofia laughs, I take a breath and push the door open. Mama Morelli stands by the window and talks to Giulia, and Papa Jean-Luka sits at the table with his sons.

Family breakfast. Now I feel terrible for sleeping so long. Why didn’t they tell me this was happening? I could have set my alarm clock.

“Good morning,” I greet everyone as I walk in.

Mama Sofia walks to me to clasp my hands. “Aria, you look gorgeous. How have you been?”

“Fine, thank you.”

“Come, child, sit with me.”

Mama Morelli leads me to the table, and I take a seat beside her. All three men stare at me, but when I meet Franco’s eyes, I quickly look away.

“Doesn’t my future wife look stunning?” Marco says. He smiles at me but then turns back to Franco to continue their discussion. I don’t seem that important to him.

Claira and another maid come in with trays of food, and we begin to eat. Everyone talks over everyone, and it’s a noisy affair. I’m not sure if I love it or hate it. It was always so quiet, with just Dominique and me at the table.

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