Page 22 of The Enforcer's Possession
Then it was just us.Father and daughter.Don and subordinate.
“You look presentable,” Papa said finally.Not beautiful.Not lovely.Presentable.“The dress is appropriate.”
“How generous of you to approve.”The words came out sharper than I’d intended, but I was past caring.“Given that you’re not paying for it.”
His jaw tightened.“Dante’s covering the wedding expenses.How modern of him.”
“How strategic of him, you mean.”I smoothed my hands over the silk skirt, needing something to do with them.“He understands the optics of appearing generous.”
“He understands how to claim territory.”Papa moved farther into the room, his footsteps measured and deliberate.“That’s what this is, Caterina.Make no mistake.You think you’ve negotiated an alliance, but all you’ve done is transfer yourself from one man’s control to another’s.”
“At least I chose which man.”
“Did you?”He stopped a few feet away, studying me with the same calculating expression he used when evaluating business deals.“Or did Dante simply make you think you were choosing?”
The question landed like a punch.I lifted my chin, refusing to let him see how much it unsettled me.“This was my decision.My strategy.”
“Your desperation, you mean.”He adjusted his cufflinks with precise movements.“You were so desperate to avoid Marco that you ran to someone worse.Someone who’ll expect complete submission from his wife, contract or not.”
“You don’t know that --”
“I know exactly that.I know Dante’s reputation, know what kind of man he is.”Papa’s voice remained level, but I heard the edge underneath.“And I know my daughter well enough to assume you’ve asked him to sign some sort of contract.But regardless of what terms you requested, it’s only going to protect his interests.Not yours.”
My breathing had gone shallow again.I forced another inhale, deeper this time, trying to calm the racing of my heart.“At least he won’t put me in the hospital.”
“No.He’ll just own you completely.”Papa moved to the window, looking out over the estate grounds where guests were arriving.“Marco would have been cruel in predictable ways.Dante will be cruel in ways you haven’t imagined yet.But you’ve made your choice.So now you get to live with the consequences.”
I wanted to argue.Wanted to defend my choice, my strategy, my carefully negotiated terms.But the words stuck in my throat because somewhere deep down, I was starting to suspect he might be right.
“Why are you telling me this?”I asked instead.“If you disapprove so much, why did you agree to the marriage?”
Papa turned from the window to face me.“Because Antonio convinced me the alliance was valuable.And because you’re right -- Dante’s reach is greater than Marco’s.The De Luca connection strengthens our position.”He paused, his expression hardening.“But don’t mistake strategic acceptance for approval of your methods.You went behind my back, undermined my authority.You made it clear that you value your own desires over family loyalty.”
“My own survival, you mean.”
“Your own will.”He straightened his tie with sharp movements.“The same stubborn will that’s about to discover what happens when it meets someone stronger.”
The door opened again.One of Papa’s men appeared, nodding once.“They’re ready, Don Lombardi.”
Papa held out his arm to me, the gesture formal and impersonal.“Shall we?”
I stared at his offered arm for a long moment.This was it.The point of no return.Once I took his arm and walked down that aisle, there would be no backing out.No changing my mind.No escape.
My hand trembled as I placed it on his sleeve.
We moved into the hallway, my heels clicking against the floor in a rhythm that felt funereal rather than celebratory.Security personnel lined the corridor, their expressions blank, their presence a reminder that this wasn’t a normal wedding.This was a transaction between criminal families, sealed with vows and witnessed by people who kill for a living.
We reached the double doors that led to the ballroom.Through the crack between them, I caught a glimpse of the ceremony space.Hundreds of white flowers, guests in expensive attire, enough wealth and power concentrated in one room to topple governments.
And at the end of the aisle, waiting at an altar that had been erected for this occasion, stood Dante De Luca.
Even from this distance, even through the narrow opening between the doors, I felt the impact of his presence.He wore a black tuxedo that looked like it had been painted onto his frame, every line perfect, every detail precise.His posture was absolutely still, predatory in its patience.But it was his gaze that made my breath catch.
He was staring at the doors.At me, even though he couldn’t fully see me yet.
Waiting.
The way a hunter waits for prey to step into the trap.
