Page 94 of My Dark Ever After
“I’ve been reasonable all my life,” I countered. “It hasn’t worked well for me. And I won’t bereasonableabout this. Raffa should not have to pretend to date myauntfor political gain.”
I tried to ignore the little arrogant smirk on Raffa’s face, but it was hard not to match the grin with one of my own.
How was it possible that on one of the worst days of my life, I was also almost giddy with happiness? To have my dad here with me, no secrets between us, to have Raffa come for me even when I had taken away his hope, felt like gifts I had never dreamed of receiving.
“No,” Martina agreed slowly, eyes bright as she looked between Raffa and me. “But there is another option that could work very well.”
“Martina ...” Raffa warned, grin collapsing into a dark look. “Do not.”
“What is it?” I asked.
“It would only work if people knew about her heritage,” Ginevra cut in. “It would expose her even more than she already is.”
“Absolutely not,” Dad said, shooting to his feet to point a vibrating finger at Raffa. “Nofuckingway, Romano. I agreed to work with you to help my daughter, but I do not approve. Not one fucking bit.”
“Che cavolo?” I demanded. What the hell? “What are you talking about?”
Raffa dropped his foot to the floor and braced his forearms on his thighs to bring his face closer to mine. There was dried blood on the corner of his mouth that I shocked myself by wanting to lick clean.
“Marriage, Vera,” he said quietly, but the words seemed to reverberate like a struck bell. “They are speaking of marriage.”
Rage struck me in the gut, the breath leaving my body in a long whoosh.
“Excuse me?” I demanded after sucking in a lungful of air, the words sharp enough to cut. “Are you serious? You would marry my aunt?”
I knew arranged marriages were a thing in Mafia culture, even in Italian culture, but I could not even begin to fathom such a thing between Ginevra and Raffa.
Someone—Martina and Carmine, I thought—laughed a little.
“No,stella cadente,” Raffa murmured, even more softly than before, so I had to lean closer to hear him. “I would not. That was not what Martina was suggesting.”
I swallowed the bitter triumph at his words. “Then who?”
His mouth twisted into an approximation of a wry smile. “You are not usually so slow to understand. You must still have water in your ears.” A grin tugged at my mouth at his teasing, but before I could jibe back, he continued, “The only eligible Pietra left to marry, Guinevere.You.”
I gasped so deeply, I almost choked on the breath.
“She is notmarryingyou, Romano. Guinevere is going back to Michigan as soon as we can get a flight out of this place. She is not staying in Italy, and she is certainly not marrying a known felon.”
“Her father is one, so I don’t see why it should matter,” Ludo said.
“Vaffanculo,” Dad spat.
Fuck off.
Ludo merely shrugged.
“It’s not a bad idea,” Raul said. “We could introduce Guinevere to society as Gaetano’s love child, make it clear the line of succession is still strong, especially if she unites with the Romanos.”
“It would be a blow to the Venetian too,” Renzo added. “First the Grecos are incarcerated in a sting with the DIA, and then the Pietras are made loyal through marriage? It is very tidy.”
“It’s hardly tidy,” Dad argued. “Guinevere is not staying in Italy.”
“Dad,” I said, reaching forward to grab his hand and tug him reluctantly back into his seat. “I am staying.”
He blinked at me, the color draining from his face. “Guinevere, don’t be ridiculous.”
“I’ve never been less ridiculous in my life,” I deadpanned.
