Page 2 of Stolen Queen

"So, Elio, Caruso has been saying good things about you," Vincenzo says of the head of The Chicago Outfit.

I imagine Rinella is jealous that The Outfit’s boss has taken notice of Elio. Elio is young, only twenty-six, taking over the family just a few years ago when his parents died in a car crash. But Elio is everything a crime boss should be, charming, cunning, and brutally ruthless when needed. So of course, Caruso has taken notice.

Elio sips his wine. "It’s nice to be noticed.”

“I’m sure your father would be proud.”

“Yes, I'm honored to carry on his legacy." Elio pauses, like he's choosing his words carefully. "And of course, I'm looking forward to our upcoming nuptials. It's a union that will only strengthen both of our families."

Vincenzo nods. "I'm sure it will. Ava will make you a good wife. She’s been raised to serve her husband and The Outfit.”

Lana hides her disgust behind a sip of wine. Most Mafia women I meet are like Ava—quiet, dutiful, subservient. Lana is an anomaly, outspoken and bossy. Sometimes, I think Elio should do more to rein her in. Other times, I'm glad she's willing to bust his balls.

But she’s smart enough to know when to hold her tongue… usually. She can be loose with it with Elio.

“Surely, there’s more to her than that,” Elio says, turning to Ava. “Do you have any interests? Hobbies?”

Ava glances at her father as if she needs permission. It proves his comment that she’s been raised to be subservient.

“She cooks,” Vincenzo says.

“Of course she does,” Lana quips. “We have an excellent cook.” She gestures to her plate. We’re on the antipasti course of prosciutto and cheese, no cooking involved.

“Do you have interests and hobbies?” Ava asks Elio.

"I'm afraid my work with the business does consume a great deal of my time and energy." Elio smiles at her.

I shift in my seat. I doubt Vincenzo will care that Elio’s too busy to be a good husband, but he might act like he cares. Elio needs to sell himself.

"Don't sell yourself short, Elio. You've also got quite the talents for fine wine and art,” I say.

"Yes, those are passions of mine as well.”

Ava's brow furrows slightly. "How… interesting. I must admit, I don't know much about art and wine?—”

“You can teach her,” Vincenzo interrupts, earning a hidden glare from Lana.

As the meal progresses, we continue to exchange conversation. It feels like Elio's just going through the motions, which considering this is an arranged marriage for business makes some sense. But Ava is beautiful and raised to be a perfect Mafia wife. Elio should be more pleased. I’d be fucking kicking up my heels if my arranged mate were Ava. Of course, I won’t have an arranged marriage. While I’m technically a member of the family, being Elio and Lana’s cousin, in the Mafia world, I’m just another soldier. Elio and Lana treat me like family, value my place in it and the business, but I don’t hold the power or influence they do with other families. That’s okay. I’m not looking for marriage, arranged or otherwise.

But Elio, he’s surprising me. He’s not displeased with Ava, but he’s also not happy. He seems distracted. There's somethingup with him. Something that has my gut tightening. Something that makes me think he's about to blow this arrangement out of the water.

Lana's voice is light and friendly, even as her voice is charged. "So, Ava. Tell us a bit more about yourself. What are your aspirations, your hobbies? I'm sure a woman of your stature has plenty of interests beyond just managing a household."

Both Elio and I send her a look to tread carefully. It’s clear Vincenzo raised her to be a wife, not to pursue her own interests.

Ava shrugs. “I do enjoy cooking. I don’t know art very well, but I enjoy going to museums.”

I have no doubt these are talking points given by her father. I note the necklace she's wearing. It doesn't look like an heirloom.

“You have an unusual necklace on,” I say.

Ava presses her hand over it and smiles. “I made it.”

“Really?” I study it more. Elio clears his throat. I imagine he's not happy with my staring at her chest. It is a nice chest. Creamy, soft-looking skin. Round swells.

“Yes.” She glances down at her crafty work. It’s an unusual opaque stone with gold wire work around it.

“Of course, there won’t be time for all that when you’re married.” Vincenzo shakes his head at his daughter. “This is a big home. You’ll be busy.”

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