Page 21 of Now and Forever

Mama inhaled. “I see.” She motioned toward the bathroom. “Now go shower.”

Wearing a silk camisole and shorts, I stood. As I walked toward the bathroom, I reached for Camila’s hand and stage-whispered, “Coffee. Please can you find me coffee?”

“I’ll get you some. They’re bringing it and breakfast foods.”

Closing the bathroom door to the growing chaos, I took a moment to look at my reflection—the reflection of today’s bride. My green eyes were bright, from a night’s sleep, not because they were filled with love for my fiancé, the man who I would soon call my husband. I tried to hold onto last night’s talk. It was more than I’d had for six months.

Leaving my night clothes on the floor, I stepped under the spray of the hot water, letting it soak my hair. With my eyes closed, I lifted my face to the shower, conscious that today was my last day to wake as Catalina Ruiz.

After today, I’d be Catalina Luciano.

Dario had said ‘now and forever,’ but as I showered, I had thoughts of something I’d read when researching the Mafia. It said something to the effect of ‘in alive, out dead.’

That was what today meant.

I was about to wed a man I didn’t know and enter into an organization I didn’t fully understand. Enter alive and leave dead. Divorce wasn’t an option. While I had convinced myself that Dario’s world wouldn’t be significantly different than the world in which I’d been raised, there was still so much unknown.

At twenty-four years of age, I should be more knowledgeable and more experienced—in life.

The few times I was near him, Dario stirred a sexual awareness within me. Nevertheless, the idea of our wedding night had me more than a little nervous. I’d read stories where the first time was like fireworks. I wasn’t certain what that meant.

Wonderful, exciting, and explosive.

Or was it more like the finale?

Something starting weakly and ending strongly.

“Cat,” Mireya called as she opened the bathroom door. “I have coffee.”

Turning off the water, I reached for a towel and wrapped it around myself. “Thanks.” I stepped out.

She closed the door behind her. My cousin gave me a concerned look. “Are you scared?”

Pressing my lips together, I nodded. “It’s stupid. There are girls who have their first experience and they’re a decade younger than I am.”

“I suppose it’s one thing to fumble around in a back seat with a teenage boy who doesn’t know any more than you do, versus being presented on a silver platter in a see-through teddy to a man eleven years older who definitely knows what to do.”

I scrunched my nose as I lifted the mug of warm coffee. “Experience is better right?”

Mireya laughed. “I saw a show where it was the first time for the guy, and he came on her thigh. He never even got it in.” Her eyebrows danced. “Dario strikes me as a man with more self-control.”

“That’s what he said.”

“What he said.” Her eyes opened wide. “When did you talk to him?”

“Last night.” Abandoning the delicious coffee, I lifted a comb and began to tame my hair.

My cousin’s volume lowered to a whisper. “He came to your room?”

“No.” I continued to work out the tangles. “In the middle of the night, I was hungry. I went to the kitchen.” The scene came back to me, bringing a smile. “We ate and talked. That was about it.” I looked at Mireya’s expression. “He was nice.”

“Nice. Nice? He’s a murderer.”

“They all are,” I replied, surprised I was defending Dario. “My papá, yours, and Uncle Gerardo. Nick and Em. The Italians aren’t the only ones with blood on their hands.”

Mireya lifted her hands. “I never said that.”

“It feels like it’s always been the cartel against the Mafia or the Russians or the Taiwanese. Now Patron wants me to bridge the gap with the Mafia, and I feel like I’m going to be made to choose whether to support my family or transfer my allegiance to my new family.”

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