Page 11 of Princess of the Mafia

“I only agreed to marry a sister. I didn’t say who,” he said, annoyance dripping off his tone.

I closed my eyes for a split second. Please don’t let him see Lia. “Right.”

“Get back here, Daria,” Vitale snapped.

I swatted his words away. My brother sometimes didn’t know what was right for him. I took a step closer and focused on the faint gold chain dangling around his neck. “I’ve always wanted to live in New York.” I lied. I loved Sicily and hadn’t dreamed of leaving anywhere else.

Fascination swirled around me. His smell was so… strong… like a man should smell… I suppose… a man who wasn’t family… who will never be family. My hands reached out to touch his chain, except it caught on his skin. Hot. I jerked my hand away, but his hand caught my wrist. It burned me like an iron brand. “I like your chain.” I hated men who wore jewelry.

“That’s enough, Daria.” Vitale’s voice was right behind me.

Yet it was like it was just the two of us in this room. His tattooed knuckles fascinated me. I hated tattoos. I tried to yank my hand away, but he wasn’t allowing it. I tipped my head to meet his gaze. He watched me with his brows arched and an indecent smirk on his lips. Is he amused? I didn’t know him, and I didn’t know men. I would not know men because they only brought pain and suffering into your life. He was yet another example. He was all that I didn’t want. Still, I pushed words through my lips to seal my life away. “I’ll marry you.”

Vitale yanked me away from him, and the iron hold on my wrist fell away. “Get the hell out of here.” He pushed me towards the door.

The asshole pushed himself off the windowsill and stood. “That’s settled then.” He walked over to the desk, signed the paper, and tossed the pen to Vitale, who caught it. “Sign.”

“No.”

“Your sister has agreed. Are you telling me you’re opposing this marriage now?”

They faced each other like gorillas in a cage. The tension in the air was enough to make bile whirl in my belly, like food poisoning, until I wanted to retch. Thoughts of war, and hidden guns, and blood tainted my mind. The crimson on Papà's body was etched into my retinas. I never wanted to see that again.

My hands crawled on my brother’s arm. He feared for my happiness, but why couldn’t he understand I feared for his life? “Oh, come on, Ale,” I forced the aloofness in my voice and pulled on his arm to get him to step up to the vile paper on the desk. “Sign it so we can get the party started.” My cheeks hurt. Hurt more than the slap from Mamma with the fake smile I was projecting. I glanced at the asshole who now owned me. “What was your name again?”

Oh, he didn’t like that. A muscle twitched in his jaw as he said, “Lorenzo,” in a tight voice.

“See,” I told Vitale. “I’ve always wanted to have a Lorenzo.”

CHAPTER FIVE

LORENZO

Fight first, think later. The Martello attitude was what got me into this mess. The gruff hum of men's voices vibrated in my basement office. I cocked my head, gave a timely nod, and kept the illusion of my rapt attention. Yet all it took was one man, Cesare, I think, to comment that we could now ship our drugs without a hindrance, and my mind rushed to fucking Sicily. I had no idea why I went along with that woman’s manipulative thoughts, but I had a bitter taste in my mouth from doing it, anyway. Even though, sadly, I didn’t regret it. Another family trait of ours. We didn’t regret. Even our bad decisions. Something told me this was one.

Time ticked slowly like the hour hand on the clock. Days crawled by. With it, so did the unease on my skin. A fucking month never felt so long. I should have brought her back with me that very day. I’d already lost Mamma to Sicily. I would not lose my future wife to it. If Di Matteo had a lesser reputation, I wouldn’t have paid heed to his words. But I knew his word was as good as mine. So I let him have his fucking month. To organize whatever he wanted for this wedding. I couldn’t care less about it. I would have married her just the way she stood in front of me in that frilly pink dress that reminded me of candy floss. I couldn’t stop myself from wondering if she tasted sweet like it as well.

But of course, they had to organize two weddings. Two weeks of preparation for each. Wouldn’t you know it? Her sister’s bodyguard stepped up to marry her to save her reputation. I wondered if my soon-to-be wife was as manipulative as her sister.

Wife. It didn’t sound too bad after all.

My phone beeped, and before I knew it, it had slipped off the desk onto my palm, and I was scrolling through image after image of Daria shopping with her mother and younger sister. In the middle of a fucking meeting. That bad decision was itching on my skin. She was already taking up more time than I had bargained for.

But it was simply about her security. I might have trusted Vitale with his word, but there was no way I was leaving something of mine behind without protection. Because there was no doubt in my mind. She was fucking mine.

DARIA

I was dressed in white, while my heart bled red. Divya kneeled at my feet, pinning and unpinning the edges of my dress. She had outdone herself. Not that there was ever a doubt she wouldn’t. She had class. She had a sense of style. She had elegance. Collect them all up and put her in fashion school and you got Boom!

Yet even as she pinned and unpinned the most beautiful dress I’d ever seen, my hands itched to wrench it off me like a hand on my throat. Suffocation. Lorenzo was suffocation for me. Men were suffocation for me.

My eyes burned with unshed tears, and I clenched my molars to keep them away. Mamma bustled in and out of the room. Her turmoil was clear in her jerky movements and sharp words. She’d buried her husband and was about to part with two of her daughters in a matter of a few months. Orietta had married Luigi two weeks ago. A quick wedding to save face before mine. Although she didn’t look unhappy, with Orietta, one never knew. This house was running empty. Vitale moved out a long time ago, even though this house was rightfully his. Soon it would be just Lia and Mamma. And the servants. I tried to imagine the quiet, the empty halls, and came up blank. I’d never known anything other than this house my entire life.

Divya stood up and backed away, her face lined in concentration. Even then, she was drop-dead gorgeous. Antonio really lucked out with this one.

“What?” she asked.

I shook my head. I hoped she’d be here for Mamma, but I didn’t dare voice my words because the tears were too close for comfort. Divya sighed, a dreamy expression on her face. “You look so beautiful, Daria. Like a princess.”

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