Page 4 of Doll's Eye

My persistent pleas for more involvement. This is where he broke the news to me about allowing Gemma to go to college and that I was to stay here.

It never bothered me that Gemma was taller than me and smarter and more popular. But it hurt knowing that she has always been favored.

Whatever the reasoning behind that decision to keep me home, it was the right one. I’d get nothing out of college for what I want with me life.

“Over much discussion, and after the failed attempt to unify the families with Tullio and Sarita.” He throws Tullio a stern look, but Tullio stands there unmoving. “We came up with another suitable partnership. You and Massimo.”

I swallow down the lump in my throat and keep my focus forward. “And has everyone agreed to this?”Meaning has Massimo?

“Yes, everyone is in agreement,” my father confirms.

“And you,piccolina?” Angelo chimes in with a condescending tone.

I turn to meet his eye boldly. I refuse to show any weakness toanyone, let alone Angelo De Luca and his unwarranted rancor towards me. “Yes. For the sake of our family and the city, I accept this decision.” He holds my gaze like I will succumb and be the first to break. I don’t. He may be the alpha in his family, but he is not someone I will ever submit to. I submit to no one but my father. And even then, I’m not so easy to bend.

His face twitches as if he finds me amusing, and he turns his beady eyes back over to my father. My eyes leave him to meet hazel ones. I don’t know why I remembered Massimo’s eyes being much darker. Maybe it was his soul I was thinking about. But there are many colors that make up his irises.

This time, I am the one to break first. His intense stare is too much for me, and that’s unsettling. I wish it were Ezzothey wanted to pair me with. It wouldn’t be difficult to earn the upper hand with him, but Massimo, one look from him, has me mentally furling in on myself.

I look at my father again and realize he and Angelo have been talking, and now I’m lost in the conversation. I ask to be a part of the business, yet here I am, sitting in on an important meeting with the De Lucas, and I can’t concentrate on the discussion. All I can think about is my husband-to-be, and his potent stare is jarring.

Massimo De Luca has an ever-growing nightmarish reputation. Not much scares me since I learned how to shoot my Glock 43 and carried it with me before I was old enough to wear lipstick or drive a car. I’m also a master at knife throwing and have done tons of fight training. Even a man of Massimo’s size and stature doesn’t really intimidate me, but he does. He’s so handsome it’s frightening, and his voice alone is spine-chilling. He has this intensity and regal air about him that irradiates, sending me tingles and raising all the little hairs on my body. As if he were a powerful king in another life with actual powers and there’re still pieces of him inside.

The graphic rumors about the deranged De Luca could be only rumors. But rumors stem from somewhere, right? Supposedly, his bedroom preferences are something to gossip about, as well as his mercenary skills.

Tying women up and demeaning them. I even heard he likes to put collars on them like dogs. Good luck putting a fucking collar on me. I’m a bitch thatdoesbite, and I’ll fucking bite his fingers off if he ever came at me with one. Fuck. That. I will be a good wife, and I understand he will one day be the boss, but I am not, nor will I ever be, a submissive.

Then, they are not so much rumors as they are tales about him and how very dirty he gets his hands. His very large and calloused hands. They could easily choke the life out of you andsnap your neck. They say he’s totally sinister. Not batting an eye as he clips fingers off one by one or when he literally peels the skin off whatever unfortunate soul got tangled in his web. Or how he will crush bones with his bare hands or gouge eyes out with his thumbs. It’s…sick. You have to be some psychopath to stomach the things he’s accused of doing.

But every time I overheard the hushed whispers, my curiosity was manic. The idea of seeing him in action to discover for myself how accurate those rumors were filled my cheeks with scorching heat, and the pit of my stomach tingled.

But all fear him, and in our world, to be feared is to be respected. Fear gives you protection.

We wrap up the meeting, and without much of a goodbye, Angelo and Massimo are led out of the office by Tullio, leaving me alone with my father. He lets his mask fall a little, softening his features for me. Switching his don hat out for his father hat.

“It’s okay,Babbo. It’s not the worst match, really. But I’m curious. How the hell did this happen?”

He sighs and stands up. “It came as just as much a surprise to me too.Piccolina, come sit with me.” I go over and join him on the nostalgic loveseat. “You know you do not have to do this. I would never force you. You remember that?”

“I know,Babbo, but I did just agree. Tullio already broke his word, and there would be no way to salvage anything between our families if I also broke mine. I know Tullio had his reasons, but I would never break my word. Not after I gave you mine, and now them in agreement to the marriage. It’s set in stone as far as I’m concerned.”

He gets this blissful smile in his eyes as he strokes my cheek tenderly. “I am so very proud of you,bambina. I could not ask for a better daughter.”

“That’s because you already have one,” I mutter. “Literally a better version of me.”

The lines between his thick brows deepen as they come together, making him look so much older. “You don’t really think that do you, Alessia?”

I shake my head and look down at my hands resting in my lap. “Gemma has always been your favorite, and it’s okay. I know you still love me.”

“Alessia. Look at me.” I know better than to disobey him as I meet his gaze. “Do you really think that?”

“It’s not something I think. It’s something that everyone knows. Why you’ve always been more gentle with her, let her go to college, why you give her more affection.”

“Merda.”Shit. “Alessia. You remember what your name means?”

I nod my head. “Yes. Defender. And Gemma’s means precious stone.” Mamma waited a day or so to choose our names based on their meaning. She wanted to learn our personalities first and give us a fitting name.

“Did Mamma ever tell you that I named you?”

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