Page 1 of Prince of Malice

1

DOMINIC

Ifeel strange in my suit. It feels even weirder having my own mom tugging at my lapels, adjusting the jacket so it sits well on my shoulders and making sure my collar is straight. She doesn’t need to do this.

“See? That’s a lot better.” The fake smile she has pinned on her face all day doesn’t slip. “Now, stop shrugging so much and keep your shoulders down. You look like you have no neck.”

Relaxing my shoulders feels wrong, but it’s her day so I do what she wants from me. I fix my posture, drop my shoulders, and let her run her hands across them, flatteningdown the creases I’ve developed in the jacket.

She takes a step away, keeping her eyes on me and avoiding treading on the train of her dress.

“I still don’t understand why you’re doing this,” I say.

“Well, I need you looking your best for today.” She responds to what she wants me to have meant.

“You know what I mean.”

She sighs, turning away from me entirely and trying her best to act busy, arranging her flowers in a vase that she’s already arranged and rearranged, again and again. “You’ll understand this sort of thing when you’re older.”

“You’re always telling me that,” I complain.

“I must be right then.” She laughs to herself. “It takes time; love has never been your strong suit.”

“Don’t pretend that you love him,” I say, already regretting my tone. It’s not fair to her. I’ve said those words this morning, this week, and what feels like every momentsince I found out she’s marrying him. She just wouldn’t give an answer I like.

“I’m not talking about loving him,” she says curtly. “I mean my love for this family. For the Rossis. I’m doing this for you- Dominic Rossi- and your brothers, and all I want for today is for you to appreciate that.”

“Fine. For today.” I reset the cuffs on my shirt, stretch my shoulders, and stand up straight.

Mom looks me up and down. When she smiles, I think she’s happy. That I’ve said enough. She’s permitting me to say nothing until the ceremony is over and then I’m free to mingle around the reception, throw back a few drinks, and have my pick of the guests. But no.

“I want you to walk me down the aisle.” She’s abrupt, dropping this on me last minute. It’s either a split-second decision or a long-planned ambush.

“What? But Gianni is the oldest?—”

“Gianni supports this. He gave his blessing at the engagement party,” she interrupts. This is definitely thought out. “You’re the one with problems, and everyone knows it. But if you’re the one to give me away, thenmaybe they’ll have a different idea about you.”

“I won’t do it. It won’t change anything. They’ll take one look at me and?—”

“You’ll do as you’re told, Dominic.”

“Why do you have to keep interrupting me?” I yell out.

“Because I’m your mother, and you’re not listening to me,” she fires back.

“All I’m trying to say is that the Valentis have hated us for years, especially me.”

“You didn’t help it.”

“I know, Mom, I know. But this is your wedding day, and I don’t want to make things worse on your day.”

She doesn’t reply. For all of her shouting and arguing, I’m always more afraid of her when she goes quiet.

“Mom?”

Still nothing.

“Come on, Mom. I just want to do what’s best for the family. Not stir up any trouble like you asked.”

---