Page 11 of Borrowed Bride

“Your mother would be so ashamed,” Father growls, and tension snaps up my spine.

“Well, she’s dead,” I reply coldly. “And if she was here, this situation wouldn’t even be a damn requirement, would it?”

“You listen here?—”

“You act like he just plucked me off the street,” Gianna suddenly speaks, diverting attention to her. “Surely he has more sense than that.”

Cutting my father off is a bold move but Gianna holds her head high as she walks around me, keeping our hands interlocked. “Most parents would be happy their son married for love.”

I didn’t expect her to hold up her end of the bargain immediately, but once she gets started, she’s on a roll.

“From where I’m standing, it seems like Marco has followed his heart swift enough not to disrupt anything so that he can put his focus where it’s really needed.” She smiles sweetly and brushes her hair away from her shoulder.

“You don’t understand,” Father replies tightly. “Bringing this family to the brink of destruction because he didn’t think beyond his dick isimmediatelydisruptive.”

“Are you telling me that the Barrones aren’t as strong as we’re led to believe?” Gianna tilts her head and touches two fingertips to her lips. Then she turns to me and pouts. “Baby, did you exaggerate?”

She’s so quick that I almost burst out laughing at her smooth performance, but I hold it together.

“She knows little,” I say to my father. “And yet she has more faith in me than you.”

“Do you not remember how things were when your sister died?” my father spits out his words and drags one hand through his thick, silver hair. “The fallout was devastating when we were unable to secure a union with the Simone family. How do you see this ending, hm?”

My defenses rise immediately at the mention of my late sister. “That was an entirely different situation,” I growl. “And a different time. I am in charge now, and if any measly Simone has an issue with this, then I will gladly grind them into the dirt like you should have done years ago!”

My father glares at me, then he turns to the gathered lieutenants. “What are you all still doing here? Get out there, make the damn calls, and if any of you fail to smooth over this situation, it will be your head that rolls, understand? The fucking damage control. Get out. Now!”

Each man hurries out of the room, intent on running damage control for whatever family they are assigned to until it’s just me, Gianna, and my father.

“Gianna.” I squeeze her hand. “My apologies but this is my father, Dante.”

“It’s a pleasure.” Gianna’s smile is as sweet as ever. “Quite the temper you have there.”

“Don’t speak on things you know nothing about,” Dante snaps.

“Oh, you think?” Gianna remains unfazed. “Your attention has been split, correct? All this family business which I am sure issoimportant, plus securing a suitable wife for your son so that you can get the heir you greatly desire.”

As my father returns to his seat, he hesitates at her words. “You told her?” he asks, glancing at me.

“You think I would marry someone who doesn’t want a baby?” I snort. “I’m not as clueless as you think.”

“I get it,” Gianna smiles. “I mean, I can imagine that it’s like one gorgeous dress that everyone wants, and if you pair it with the right person, then it’s a match made in heaven. But then someone brings in a completely different dress and suddenly it’s a betrayal.” She laughs softly. “The key is to be confident in your decision.”

To my surprise, Dante’s whiskery mustache twitches. “Quite the analogy.”

“Well, I can’t pretend to know what you’re talking about, but I picked up on a few things during your rather um…explosive reaction.”

“Well,” Dante sighs. “I suppose the board has been laid out now.”

I remain near the door, watching as my father and Gianna fall into a quick conversation. She describes herself as an entrepreneur between jobs, claiming I swept her off her feet a few months ago and we’d been dating in secret ever since.

This seems to appease my father slightly as it makes this marriage seem less spur of the moment. Gianna talks smoothly, with a practiced ease I wouldn’t expect from a pickpocket.

There may be more to this woman than meets the eye.

I let them talk for ten minutes, and then I take Gianna by the hand and excuse us both, claiming that it’d been a long day. She remains upbeat as I take her up the grand staircase to the third floor.

As we reach my bedroom, I open the door and part my lips, ready to tell her that she can sleep in here until I get a room prepared for her, but Gianna has different thoughts.

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