Page 13 of Deception

Most of them are vapid and social media obsessed.

Not to say Veronica isn’t like them in every other way. Every other reference out of her mouth has to do with some current celebrity. People that I couldn't give two shits about, most of whom I’ve never heard of.

Beto laughs at her anecdotes anyway, trying to ingratiate her to me through his own delight in his daughter.

It serves a purpose, at least, to keep her occupied if she winds up being my bride.

Something to keep her occupied. She’ll be obligated to mingle with the wives as well and handle organizing events and dinners too.

All of which will keep her out of my hair most of the time. Until we have three or four children to take up the rest of her time.

That’s just the way things have always been.

My mother was primarily tasked with providing children for my father, too. They loved each other, sure. But I know they were set up to be married, pressured and guided. She always spent the bulk of her time with us, especially once the twins were born.

Catalina joining the family was like giving her a gift: the daughter she never had.

And my father wanted them to have some time to get to know her better. I was supposed to go with them, until I got my orders to join Dom on that hit.

“Um…Don Diamante?” Veronica is looking at me expectantly.

“I'm sorry I was lost in thought. Forgive my distraction.”

“Always been a thinker, this one!” Beto teases me, covering for my lapse. “He's a smart man. Just like my Veronica. You are two peas in a pod, I can see it. She's so very intelligent. Tell him, tell him about your marks at the university. My daughter's getting the best education in the world. She will make a fine wife, a smart wife. Clever, too!”

“Thank you, Daddy.” She blushes.

That is good news, that she’s well educated. “Fascinating. What are you studying?”

“Fashion design for now. It piqued my interest last year when I went to Milan,” she brags, outright.

I can tell it’s a fickle thing, her interests change from moment to moment. Just like the boys that she probably hangs out with at the club, the guys she sucks off in the bathroom that her father never finds out about.

Sleeps around with her father’s men, too, probably.

I guess that’s not fair, but Adriano does his research and always gives me the lowdown on everyone I meet. Which is why I had already made up my mind about this meeting.

It doesn't do to piss off members of the family, however, so I still meet with them.

I just have to find the right moment to call them out, to find something wrong with the potential bride and send them on their way—maybe feeling cowed and a little chastised for wasting my time.

Just have to wait for an excuse…

“So, why don't you tell me a little more about yourself, Veronica?”

“Well, I travel alot…”

I stop listening after two sentences.

She hits the hottest clubs in Rome. She stays at the nicest hotels. She clearly thinks that I care about class or whatever her daddy's money can buy her.

I catch bits and pieces, trying to keep my face looking interested as my mind wanders. All I can think is how vapid and hollow she is. Just like the rest of them.

I can't blame her. She's grown up a spoiled brat. The daughter of a banker, amobbanker, no less. Meaning she's never wanted for anything, and she's been sheltered her entire life.

My attention slips back to her as her tone shifts suddenly, like she’s telling me some juicy secret.

“My daddy's boys beat up the last guy I dated. He was running around on me,cheating. So we showed him. Not that I would mind if you had other girls when we’re married, but no low-class fuck-boy should dare to cross me, you know?”

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