Page 10 of Mafia Prize

And I don’t think I can face Andrei again. Not under the current circumstances. There’s been a lot of gossip about the Sidorov-Nekrasov merger and not a lot of details, but he’s practically engaged, and so am I. Nothing good will come of going.

I can’t help but fly north anyway.

Andrei greets me at the entrance to Casanova. Unheeding of anyone watching, he grabs my shoulder and drags me to a corner. “You’re engaged?” he demands. “To Dominic Norcia? A man who gets pleasure from beating powerless women? Are you fucking insane?”

He’s angry.Furious.Joy bubbles in my heart, and I squelch it. His feelings don’t matter, and neither do mine. At the end of the day, we’ll both do what’s necessary for the good of our families.

“Should I congratulateyouonyourengagement?” I look up to meet his stormy eyes. “Ekaterina is truly lovely. She’ll make you very happy.”

He doesn’t let me change the topic. “Does he do it for you?” he hisses into my ear. “Did I not hit you hard enough with the flogger last year? Do you prefer Dominic’s particular brand of pleasure instead?”

I suck in a shaky breath. “You know that’s not true. The reasons I’m marrying Dominic have nothing to do with pleasure. He doesn’t give me what I want, no. But he gives me what I need. Money, reputation, prestige?—”

“Fuck that.” His voice cuts like a whip. “None of that matters. You seem to think you are a pawn on the chessboard of your life, Mira, but you are the fucking queen. All that matters is what you want.”

Fuck that, he says. As if I made this decision lightly. “It’s easy for you to say,” I snarl like a mortally wounded animal. “Your family is stable. You have all the money in the world. Everyone respects and fears the Sidorov Bratva. You don’t know what desperation feels like. If your family’s survival depended on it, you’d put your needs above your desires.”

His fingers dig into my shoulders. I don’t flinch away; I welcome the pain. It reminds me I’m still alive. “No matter what my family needs, Mirabella,” he says, and the caress in his voice feels like a fist around my heart. “I would never putanyoneabove you.”

I blink back my tears. “Don’t say that.” I can’t look at him. I can’t be here. Coming to Venice was a mistake. “Words are easy. This time next year, we’ll both be married to other people.” I pull away from his grip. “I need to leave.”

And then I flee.

9

Pia Celestina chooses my engagement dress, a frothy and hideous pink tulle affair. It arrives on the morning of the party. I’m putting it on when there’s a knock at my bedroom door.

“Come in,” I call out.

It’s Elisa. She’s holding a small, square, gift-wrapped box in her hands. “This came for you,” she says.

It must be an engagement present. I wonder who it’s from. Someone well-informed. The Norcias have kept the news very quiet, and the formal announcement won’t happen until the party tonight. But Andrei found out, and now, so has someone else, which means they have a leak in their ranks.

Then I take one look at Elisa’s face and all thoughts of presents flee from my mind. Something is wrong. My nineteen-year-old sister has been crying. Her eyes are red and puffy, and her face is blotchy. “What happened?” I demand.

“I broke up with Manuel.”

“What?” I recoil in shock. “Why?”

She sniffs. “I know you’re only marrying Dominic because of me, so I asked Manuel if he’d still be with me if your engagement fell through.”

Oh, dear.

“He said no?”

She nods miserably. “I wanted him to defy his family for me,” she says, sinking onto the bed and hugging a pillow to her chest. “Maybe I’m being naive, but I want to be with someone who will pick me first.”

No matter what my family needs, Mirabella, I would never putanyoneabove you.

“I’m sorry.” She’s too young to have her illusions shattered this way. “I’m not defending Manuel, but it’s not easy to defy your family.”

“Family,” she says bitterly. “That’s why you’re marrying Dominic, and that’s why Uncle Renzo took over as head, even though he wants nothing to do with our world. Everything for family, whether it makes us happy or not.”

My head jerks up. “What do you mean, Renzo wants nothing to do with our world?”

“Davide told me he hates being in charge.”

I’m struggling to process what I just heard when my phone beeps with a message from Antonio Moretti. I unlock the display with a frown. I haven’t heard from the Venetian padrino since I was a no-show at the poker game.

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