Page 39 of Savage Union
"No. You're my future wife making adjustments to a new reality." He gestures to the garment bag. "I had something made for you to wear. For tomorrow, and other outings."
"Other outings?" I can't keep the surprise from my voice.
"Did you think you would remain in this penthouse forever?" He moves closer, close enough that I catch the scent of his cologne. "This marriage requires public appearances. The Commission expects to see us together, presenting a united front."
"So this is about appearances." That makes more sense than sudden generosity.
"Partly." His honesty is disarming. "But it's also about making this situation more... sustainable."
"Sustainable." I repeat the word, turning it over. "You mean making me less miserable so I stop fighting you at every turn."
The ghost of a smile touches his lips. "As I said, you're intelligent."
"Not intelligent enough to avoid this situation in the first place."
"Perhaps it was unavoidable." His voice softens slightly. "Some things are simply destiny, Caterina."
The use of my full name, combined with that almost philosophical statement, sends an unexpected shiver through me. I take a step back, needing distance from whatever is happening.
"What time tomorrow?" I ask, redirecting to practicalities.
"Noon. Dante will escort you." He picks up his glass again. "I have business to attend to, but I expect you back by five. We'll have dinner together."
It sounds so normal. So domestic. As if we're simply a couple with busy schedules coordinating their day. The facade makes me uneasy, yet I can't help the surge of anticipation at seeing my family—and Elena. My cousin is the only one who knows about my arrangement with the Irish, the only one I truly confided in when things with my father became unbearable.
"Thank you," I say finally, the words strange on my tongue. "For arranging this."
Vito inclines his head slightly, accepting my gratitude with the same cool detachment he accepts everything else. "Dinner will be ready in thirty minutes."
He picks up the garment bag and holds it out to me. I take it, careful not to let our fingers touch. Whatever game he's playing, I need to stay sharp, stay focused. This unexpected kindness could be just another form of control.
But as I hang the garment bag in my closet—I still think of it as "my" closet despite sleeping in Vito's room now—I can't help the small flicker of hope. Seeing my family means a chance to gather information, to coordinate, to plan. And Elena... Elena might be my best chance at finding a way out of this gilded cage.
The restaurant is even more impressive than I expected—soaring ceilings, elegant minimalist decor, staff that move like ghosts, anticipating needs before they're expressed. Dante walks slightly behind me as the maître d' leads us to a private dining room at the back.
"Your guests are already seated, Miss Gallo," he informs me with a respectful nod.
The moment the door opens, Sofia launches herself at me, nearly knocking me off my feet. "Rina!"
I wrap my arms around her, breathing in the familiar scent of her strawberry shampoo. "Hey, little one."
"I'm not little anymore," she protests automatically, but she doesn't let go.
My mother approaches more slowly, her smile watery. "Caterina." She embraces me once Sofia reluctantly steps back. "You look well."
"So do you." It's mostly true. She looks tired but unharmed. The Greenhouse must be treating them decently at least.
"Well, well, look who's alive and kicking." The drawling voice comes from the corner of the room, where Elena lounges in her chair like she's at a beach bar instead of one of New York's most exclusive restaurants.
My cousin Elena Rosso, twenty-two going on fifty in terms of world-weariness, raises her champagne flute in a mocking toast. With her dark brunette hair falling in long, flowing waves past her shoulders, eyes perpetually lined with kohl, and red lips that rarely smile without irony, she exudes a magnetic confidence that's always drawn people to her.
"Elena." I can't help the genuine smile that breaks across my face. "You came."
"When I heard my favorite cousin was being held captive by the big bad wolf, how could I resist?" She stands, embracing me tightly before whispering in my ear, "We need to talk."
"I know," I whisper back.
Dante clears his throat from his position by the door. "I'll be right outside. The staff knows to call me if you need anything."
