Page 127 of Mafia Virgin (The Kings of Italy)

All the air left my lungs in onewhoosh. “What?”

“Now, listen. I know you aren’t interested in marriage, that you think it will interfere with your studies. But Vito is smart. Ruthless. And he isn’t one to react rashly or have a temper. I believe this is a good match for you.”

But I’m already married.

It was on the tip of my tongue, but I swallowed it back. I couldn’t say it and hurt my father like that. Besides, it didn’t matter. My marriage would be annulled soon and I would be free to marry again.

But I didn’t want to marry Vito. Or anyone else for that matter. Maybe someday, but my next partner wouldn’t be in the mafia, that was for certain.

“Absolutely not,” I said when my mouth could form words again. “That isn’t happening.”

“Emma, I let your sisters choose their own men—”

“You tried to marry Frankie off to Giulio Ravazzani.”

My father gave a tiny shake of his head. “That is immaterial. She chose Ravazzani in the end. But I want to choose a good husband for you. I don’t want you waiting too long to marry.”

“Have you talked to Enzo or Vito about this?” I assumed the answer was no. One of them probably would’ve mentioned that bigamy was outlawed in Canada.

He exhaled heavily, and I knew he was growing tired. I patted his arm. “Let’s talk about this later, Papà. I don’t think either of us are in a place to make any serious decisions right now.”

“You are avoiding the issue, hoping it will go away.” He leaned back and closed his eyes. “If you marry him, the business stays in the Mancini family. My grandchildren will still lead this ’ndrina. This is important to me, Emma.”

Guilt gnawed in my belly, and I felt like an even bigger disappointment. Not only was I lying to him, I was crushing his dreams of continuing our family legacy. “I’ll think about it,” I forced out.

“Good. That’s all I ask. We’ll discuss it more tomorrow.”

He didn’t open his eyes, and I took that as my cue. I kissed his forehead. “Ti amo, Papà.” I took the lunch tray away and reclined his bed so he could rest.

When I opened the door I found Massimo there, eyes alert and gun at the ready. “How much of that did you hear?” I asked quietly in Italian as we walked downstairs.

“None of it. Why?”

“I have to find your brother and talk to him.”

“Who, Enzo?”

“Vito. My father wants me to marry your brother. We need to come up with a story to not disappoint him.”

“Maybe a story like you are already married to another man?”

“Quiet,” I snapped. “I don’t want my father knowing about Giacomo.”

“He’ll find out eventually, bella.”

“Not if we’re granted an annulment first.”

It shouldn’t take long. Frankie was having Fausto’s lawyers draw up the paperwork at this very moment. Things were slightly more complicated because Giacomo and I were married by a priest, which meant an Ecclesiastical Court needed to pronounce the marriage annulled. But no one said no to Fausto.

Bottom line, I would be single in no time and it would be like the marriage never happened.

“You can’t marry Vito,” Massimo said. “It would be shameful for him to marry another don’s ex-wife, especially one from the Cosa Nostra.”

“Hello? You’re not listening. I don’t want to marry your brother.”

“Why not?”

We arrived at the bottom of the stairs. No one was around. “Gloria?” I called, but there was no answer.

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