Page 23 of Till Death Do Us Part

“There is more to marriage than love,” Mom replied. “You knew that the first time.”

“Don’t remind me.”

Mom reached for Giorgia’s hand. “Come on. The wedding is about to start.” She opened the door.

My brother stood there, filling the doorframe, wearing a dark blue suit similar to the ones worn by the other men in the wedding party. After Mom and Giorgia walked past him, he smiled. “You’re lovely, Mia.”

“Compliments won’t make me stop hating you.”

He shrugged his shoulder. “I’m only saying the truth. You are beautiful.” He bent his left arm at his side. “Shall we go downstairs?”

I had a nasty retort on the tip of my tongue, but even I realized it was too late to run and baiting our famiglia’s capo wasn’t in my best interest. Instead, I stepped closer to my brother and placed my hand in the crook of his arm.

“Thank you for not making another scene,” he said. “I hope you know I want you to be happy.”

I pressed my lips together.

“I should have killed Rocco a long time ago.”

“Stop before you make me cry with all this sweet talk.”

Dario scoffed, cutting a bit of the tension. “I don’t know if you were expecting it, but there is a mariachi band playing for the ceremony.”

“I wasn’t expecting it. Do you know any other traditions I might have tried to learn before now?”

Dario shook his head. “Catalina’s and my wedding was more what I’m used to.” He lowered his voice. “I think it is good that we kept this small.”

Inhaling, I walked at Dario’s side through the hallway, down the staircase, and through the house toward the back terrace. This was a lovely home, but it wasn’t where Aléjandro and I were to live. All I’d been told was he recently purchased an oceanfront home. Dario already had many of my things shipped.

As we approached the oceanside terrace, I saw the rows of chairs filled with people. A small wedding meant there were less than fifty guests, a fraction of the number of people who attended Dario and Catalina’s wedding. Nevertheless, Aléjandro was the heir to the Roríguez cartel, and I was the only daughter of Vincent Luciano. This union warranted the attendance of some top brass in both organizations.

By the time we made it to the glass doors, Giorgia, the priest, Aléjandro, and Reinaldo were all standing in front of a flower-covered arch. Beyond the terrace, an azure blue sky met with the aqua hue of the ocean. The faint scent of sea filled my senses as the sun shone down, and music came from the band to the side of the terrace.

This wasn’t the grand production of my first wedding, but it was by no means a lesser substitute. As Dario and I stepped out, the sun kissed my cheeks as the ocean breeze tingled my skin.

My gaze met Aléjandro’s. With his hands clasped behind him, his wide shoulders filled out his custom suit coat, creating a V with his trim torso. A knowing arrogance shone in his eyes combined with the victory of his win as he too scanned me as I’d done him, and his wavy black hair blew gently in the soft wind.

“Who gives this woman…?”

My body stiffened as Dario replied, “I do.”

His answer was painfully accurate. I wouldn’t be standing here in a home owned by a top lieutenant of the Roríguez cartel if it wasn’t for my brother. However,givewas probably not the right word.

Sell.

Bargain.

Negotiate.

The priest wouldn’t use those words, but as Dario placed my hand in Aléjandro’s, I heard the words in my head. They were words that confirmed my sentiments from over ten years ago, that of being no more than a commodity.

That was what I was—a product to be bought and sold.

The Morettis bought me with the hopes of joining their family with my father’s. By this time Rocco and I were to have a house full of children sharing our DNA. With Rocco’s death, Dario bought me back, returning me into our family fold. And now here I was being sold again, this time to the heir to the Roríguez cartel.

Defining the transaction in my head chilled my flesh. I opened my eyes as the warmth of Aléjandro’s fingers encased mine. Without trepidation, but not without regret, I looked up at the man who was about to own me. As much as I wanted my marriage to work, I couldn’t see past my loathing for Aléjandro and all he represented.

My freedom only lasted six months.

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