Page 133 of Hate Mates

The rest of the dinner passes in a blur of forced small talk. By the time dessert is served, I'm exhausted, my cheeks aching from the effort of maintaining my polite smile.

As we prepare to leave, Cesare pulls me aside. His grip on my arm is firm, bordering on painful. "You did well tonight," he says, his voice low. "But remember, Vittoria, in this family, we value obedience above all else. I expect you to fall in line."

I nod, not trusting myself to speak. As we walk toward the car, my father's hand on my back, I catch sight of Valentina watching from an upstairs window. Our eyes meet for a brief moment, and I see a flicker of pain in them before she disappears from view.

In the car, my father is unusually quiet. It's not until we're halfway to the house he has rented while we’re here in America that he finally speaks. "You're playing a dangerous game, Vittoria," he says, his voice cold. "Don't think I didn't notice your little act of defiance over the wedding dress."

I stare out the window, watching the city lights blur past. "I was just trying to?—"

"I don't care what you were trying to do," he cuts me off. "Your job is to please Cesare, nothing more. Do you understand?"

I nod, swallowing hard. "Yes, Father."

As we pull up to our house, I can't help but feel a sense of dread. In three weeks, I'll be free of my father and I can’t wait. But as I recall the calculating looks from Cesare's children and the possessive grip of my soon-to-be husband, I realize that my battle is only just beginning.

TWO

Cesare

Iwatch as Domenico's car disappears down the long driveway, taking Vittoria with it. The girl performed adequately tonight; I'll give her that. But I can already see the spark of defiance in her eyes—something that will need to be extinguished, and soon.

I must admit, I was surprised by her beauty. I saw pictures of her, but they didn’t do her justice. She’s beyond beautiful and I know that she’ll gain a lot of male attention. I’ve never been a man who gets jealous, but the thought of someone staring at her—lusting after her—infuriates me.

"Father," Lorenzo's voice interrupts my thoughts. I turn to face my eldest son, noting the tension in his jaw, and the barely concealed anger in his eyes.

"What is it, Lorenzo?" I ask, my tone clipped. I'm in no mood for another argument.

He takes a deep breath, clearly struggling to maintain his composure. "I need to speak with you about this... arrangement with the Costa family."

I raise an eyebrow, waiting for him to continue. Lorenzo has never been one to mince words, a trait I usually appreciate. Tonight, however, I sense his hesitation.

"Vittoria is only nineteen," he finally says, his voice low but firm. "She's barely older than Elisabetta. This union... it doesn't feel right."

I let out a dry chuckle. "And since when has 'feeling right' ever been a consideration in our world, Lorenzo? You know as well as I do that this marriage is necessary for our family's survival."

Lorenzo's fists clench at his sides. "But at what cost, Father? We're talking about a child here."

"She's of legal age," I snap, my patience wearing thin. "And she's been raised for this life, just as you have. The Costas are a powerful ally, one we desperately need after last year's... unfortunate events."

I see Lorenzo flinch at the mention of last year. The wounds are still fresh for all of my children. Beatrice's death was unexpected. It hit the children hard. But we must move forward, for the sake of our empire.

"Besides," I continue, softening my tone slightly. "Vittoria will want for nothing here. She'll have wealth, protection, and status. Many women would kill for such an opportunity."

Lorenzo shakes his head, a bitter smile on his face. "Is that what you tell yourself to justify this, Father? That you're doing her a favor?"

His words sting more than I care to admit. For a moment, I see a flash of Beatrice in his eyes—that same determination. It's a trait that could either make Lorenzo a great leader one day or get him killed.

"Enough," I say, my voice low and dangerous. "This discussion is over. The wedding will proceed as planned. I expectyou to fall in line and support this union, Lorenzo. For the good of our family."

Lorenzo holds my gaze for a long moment before finally nodding stiffly. "As you wish, Father," he says, his voice cold and detached.

As Lorenzo turns to leave, I catch a glimpse of Valentina lurking in the shadows of the hallway. Her eyes are wide, and I can tell she's been eavesdropping on our conversation.

"Valentina," I call out, my voice sharp. "Come here."

She emerges slowly, her posture defiant despite the fear I can see in her eyes. Of all my children, Valentina has always been the most unpredictable, the most like me.

"Yes, Father?" she asks, her tone carefully neutral.

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