Page 116 of Till Death Do Us Part

In under sixty minutes, I was going to be spending time with a bunch of Chicago’s most notorious men—men my father had desperately tried to keep me away from. They were going to be celebrating the marriage of the boss under theheadboss, who was my husband.

My feet seemed glued to the floor. I had to force them to move, to find Felice. He was having a drink in the living room when I’d last seen him, but he wasn’t there. I found him in the Gallery Hall, almost empty glass in hand, looking at the newest painting on the wall.

One of Sandro’s artist friends had attended our wedding. Sandro said his friend had an amazing “party trick” and asked if we would mind him doing it at our reception.

Turned out, this party trick wasn’t a party trick at all, but talent at its finest. He’d watched as the photographer took a picture of Felice and me in front of the castle.

The palm trees had been swaying, the air had smelled sweet, of sea and citrus, and hundreds of candles had lined the walkway, along with baby’s breath.

Felice had my arm in his, we were side by side, but staring at each other.

Sandro’s friend had painted the scene on a huge canvas while the reception took place. He’d given it to us as a gift, but Felice refused to accept it unless he paid for it. The amount was in the thousands. I think he would have paid even more for it. He hung it in the gallery and visited it often. The scene moved him.

“Pretty fantastic,” I whispered, standing next to him.

We turned to each other at the same time. Even though I’d seen him earlier, he took my breath away. He was dressed in a black tux, his hair impeccable, those prominent cheek bones on display, along with those sea-green eyes.

The lights highlighting the art did the same to him.

He took my hand, lifted it, straightened my rings, and placed a warm kiss over my knuckles. The diamond bracelet around my wrist shimmered with rainbow colors, like it was in a room full of candles. The thick diamond choker around my neck did the same.

“I figured white’s a neutral color,” I whispered, straightening the designer gown. It was strapless, made of draped and gathered silk cady. “Not like wearing red in a room full of carnivores.” I kept my eyes down for a second.

If I held his stare, we weren’t going to be on time. It was important we were. Tommaso and his wife had chartered a yacht on Lake Michigan.

“Look at me, my little herbivore.” He held my chin when I did, lightly stroking my bottom lip. “There’s nothing neutral about you. You could start a war in church.”

“Grazie mille.” I set my hand over his wrist, squeezing, recognizing his form of flattery. “Should we get going?”

He held his arm out for me, and I took it. When we got to the private entryway, he helped me into my high silver heels and faux-fur coat. He slipped his black dress coat on, a white scarf around the collar, and we left.

Celso drove us to Navy Pier, where the yacht was docked.

The sun was out, since we were setting off before sunset, but there was a bite in the fall air. The wind whipped off the water, tugging at my dress and Felice’s scarf. I burrowed deeper into my coat as Felice led me aboard. He owned every room he walked into. All eyes were on us as we stepped inside.

The yacht was impressive. It even had a dance floor.

Felice took my coat, and a server took it from him, along with Felice’s. We were offered drinks. Felice ordered whiskey for him and champagne, with an apricot, for me. Then we made our way to Tommaso’s table. Men stood around it like they were guarding gold bricks. I hadn’t seen Tommaso in a while, and he’d aged in that time. He was skinnier, but his fingers were swollen. His body seemed fragile, but he didn’t appear weak to me.

His wife sat next to him. Felice introduced us. She seemed nice, but somewhat guarded. I thanked them both for the reception.

“My pleasure.” Tommaso coughed. It sounded like his lungs were full of fluid. “The wedding in Italy was a surprise. It would have been an honor to be there. Sit.” He motioned to two chairs across from him and his wife.

“It was unexpected.” I straightened my dress underneath me before I took a seat. I thanked Felice for holding out my chair, and he kissed the top of my head before he sat next to me. He set his arm around the back of my chair, his fingers stroking my skin. A promise of later.

“I invited Dr. Corvo to celebrate with us tonight, but he declined.”

I took a sip of champagne. “He doesn’t approve of the marriage.”

Tommaso nodded. “Your father is old school. He still believes in the tradition of an arranged marriage. I consider him a good friend.” He looked at Felice. “I’ve always thought of John as a son. His father worked for me before John was even born. The situation puts me in an impossible spot.”

“Not anymore,” Felice said easily. “It’s done.”

Tommaso looked at the guy standing next to him, as if to say,do you believe this guy?He took a sip of his water with lemon and set it down. “I suppose it is.” His voice was full of gravel.

“It is. And luckily, a marriage isn’t dangerous. It doesn’t hurt anyone. Unless it ends in divorce. It’s not like a car slamming into another one on purpose.” I played with the stem of the flute. “I’m hoping my father will eventually come to terms with it.”

Tommaso adjusted his thick black spectacles, like fixing them would make him see me clearer. What I’d said, about the car, was aimed at what he’d done to me and Elsa. It wasn’t subtle if it made sense.

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