Page 4 of Triplets for the Mafia Prince

I brace myself, not sure what’s coming. "Okay."

She takes a deep breath. "You're about to become a wife, and there are… certain duties that come with that role."

I nod, trying to keep a neutral expression, even though I realize where this is going.

"Being with a man, it's… well, it's not always pleasant," Mama continues, her voice dropping to a whisper. "Sometimes, it can be quite… distasteful."

I resist the urge to roll my eyes. I glance at Ava thinking we’ll exchange humorous looks, but she’s still looking worried.

“I know about?—”

"No, let me finish," my mom interrupts. "It's important that you understand. Sex is… it's a chore, Bella. Something we endure for our husbands. But it's necessary, for children and to keep the peace in the home."

I want to tell her I'm not as naive as she thinks. No, I haven’t had sex. It’s part of what makes me so valuable to my father’s business deal with Don Nardone. But I’m aware of it and how it works.

"I suggest that you lie back and think of something else," Mama advises, patting my hand. "It'll be over before you know it."

“I know about the birds and bees,” I say.

She looks startled, then a little sad. "Of course. I just… I want you to be prepared." She rises, looking regal and at the same time small. I sometimes wonder what she was like before she married my domineering father. Was her subservience a part of her makeup, or had it been beaten and berated into place by my father?

“I’ll let your father know you’re ready,” she says, and then she exits my room.

“Is that what you do with Matteo? Lie back and think of something else?” I know she doesn’t. She loves Matteo and I’ve seen the way he looks at her. He loves her too.

It’s the first time since she arrived to see me off that she gives a small smile. “No.” She rises and comes to sit with me on the bed. When you're with someone you love, it changes everything. It's beautiful, passionate, pleasurable… nothing like what Mama described."

For a moment, I let myself imagine what it would be like to have a husband like Matteo. Someone closer to my age, handsome, and clearly in love with his wife. But I quickly push the thought away. My situation is different, and there's no use in dwelling on what can't be.

I accepted my lot in life a long time ago. But that doesn’t mean I don’t do what I can to find joy and fun, sometimes pushing the envelope to do so. I’m not so daring as to sneak outof the house like my sister Ava was when she was my age. But neither am I a passive, timid flower like my mother.

Ava takes my hand. “But Bella, I don't think Don Gino is going to be like Matteo."

“You don’t know that.”

“I’m scared for you,” she admits. “The things I’ve heard about him. His past wives… his proclivities.”

I’ve heard them too, and they make my stomach turn over. But it’s all just rumors, right?

I take a deep breath, trying to calm the fear knotting in my stomach.

"Ava, come on," I say, keeping my voice light. "You can't believe everything you hear. People love to gossip, especially about powerful men like Don Nardone."

She frowns, unconvinced. "Bella?—”

I cut her off with a wave of my hand. "People say similar things about Father. They think he has a dungeon in the basement. You and I both know that’s not true. People exaggerate. They make up wild stories because the truth isn't exciting enough."

I stand up, moving to my vanity to check my makeup. In the mirror, I can see Ava's worried expression, so I turn back to face her.

“Don’t underestimate Father.” I hear bitterness in her voice. “When he found me at Matteo’s after I ran away… he put a gun to my head.”

I stare at her in disbelief. My father is a vile man, but to threaten to kill his daughter? The raw pain in Ava's eyes tells me she's not lying.

I suck in a breath. "Look, I'm not naïve. I know this isn’t going to be some fairy tale like you have with Matteo. But as long as I play my part, be a good wife, run the household, attend to hisneeds, I'll be fine. It's a business arrangement, after all. We both have our roles to play."

Ava sighs, clearly not convinced. "His reputation is worse?—”

“His reputation is just that. You don’t know him.” I silently repeat my mantra.I am tough. I can handle this. It's just another performance. Smile, nod, say the right things. How different can being Don Nardone’s wife really be?

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