Page 5 of The Don's Soulmate

"Paris was beautiful," I say, my mind filled with images of the enchanting city. Did you unpack the beautiful paintings I sent? Were they to your liking?” In the furthering of my own studies, I procured some incredible paintings for the family collection.

Angelo nods while my father motions for the convoy of cars to come forward. There’s no time to waste in Salvatore D’Amici’s life.

Men spring into action, and Angelo takes my arm and walks me to the back of a Hummer. The chauffeur closes the door behind me while Angelo gets in from the other side. My father sits up front, which is a surprise given that he usually takes a separate car.

The escort vehicles ahead begin to speed up, and the chauffeur follows right behind, tailed by the rest of the security convoy.

I glance out of the window, watching Rome's ancient architecture come to life before me. This city holds such rich history and beauty that, while I will certainly miss Paris, I also have a lot to look forward to here.

“I would have liked to catch up over dinner,” my father begins from the front. “But I do have a meeting that was already scheduled a week ago, and it would be unbecoming to cancel.”

“Of course, Papa,” I say, though I am inwardly crushed.

“We thought you were arriving tomorrow,” my brother judges from the corner.

I look up at him, feeling nervous. Are they upset with me? “The airline had to bump some passengers off due to an overbooked flight. I was either arriving today or in four days.”

“Next time, take the family jet,” my brother says, scrolling through some emails on his phone. “Today really threw our schedule off track.”

“I didn’t want to be a burden,” I murmur, but I don’t think he hears me.

My father does, though, for I see him watching me in the rear-view mirror. “Your time in Paris must have been incredible,"he says, diverting the conversation. "And all those beautiful paintings you've managed to acquire. Tell me about them.”

I sit up straighter at the chance to talk about my favorite topic. “I managed to procure an original Monet,” I can’t stifle the excitement in my voice. “And I was able to get my hands on one of Picasso’s original concept drawings. It’s quite the juxtaposition to his last works, but that’s why I fell in love with it so much. It showed me how talent, while one may be born with it, is often forged through years of hard work.

“Though, I also selected some current pieces. An Alain Mandon and a Marianne Quinzin. The Sofie Baro is from her first-ever art show, but I swear, she’s going to be brilliant.”

“Lovely.” I see my father nod along at my animated talking. “I’m sure they are going to be excellent additions to our home, but we must save some for your new place, too.”

I stop, my heart skipping a beat. “Mine?”Is he buying me a house, a place of my own?

I nearly burst with happiness. Angelo finally puts aside his phone, just in time for my father’s declaration. “This year, you shall be married.”

And just like that, all my hope from the positive self-talk earlier vanishes.

“Father, I’ve just returned,” I protest, my voice barely a whisper. “I’m not thinking about marriage right now.”

“You’re twenty-four,” Angelo observes. “Two more years, and you’d be off the market. A spinster. Who would marry you then?”

Angelo’s mean words hang between us; his presence beside me feels suffocating. I think back to how foolish I felt for not wanting to step off the plane.

“But,” I try to clutch at my fading freedom, “the world has changed, Father. In Paris, the women don’t marry until –”

“I told you we never should have let her go,” my brother leans forward as he tells my father.

My ears ring with the rush of blood, drowning out all sound. I hold back a choked sob as my father looks into the rear-view mirror. “You’re not in Paris anymore, are you? Besides, there are alliances to be made. We’ve already got some eligible men on our radar.”

I sit in stunned silence, the reality of my situation crashing down on me. The sights of Rome pass by in a blur, forgotten. Marry? Already? But I had dreams, ambitions, and a life of my own that I yearned to explore.

The hum of the car's engine seems louder now, drowning out the rest of the conversation. Eligible men on their radar – it all feels like a business transaction, a merger of families rather than matters of the heart. I turn my head slightly to see if I can find some support for my brother. Angelo's eyes bore into me, his gaze steely. He has always been loyal to our father,unwavering in his commitment to uphold the family's traditions and expectations.

Even if it means forcing me to uphold them, too, fulfilling my duty as a daughter of this family.

I’ve only just returned. Perhaps they think of me unchanged. I’ll give them a few days to get to know me again, then tell them what I want. Now is not the time to start a battle I cannot win.

For now, I will play the dutiful daughter, but they would do well to remember that a caged bird will eventually find its freedom, one way or another. My mysterious lover is out there, waiting.

His face remains a blur in my dreams, obscured by shadows, yet I would know the feel of his calloused hands anywhere, the taste of his lips, the scent of leather and spice that clings to his skin.

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