She nods sympathetically. "Of course. Take your time. I'll be outside if you need anything."
After she leaves, I sit in the massive bed that's now mine, staring out at the snow-covered gardens where I was married just hours ago. The fairy tale beauty of it all feels like a mockery now.
I'm Mrs. Cesare Mariano. Wife to a man who sees me as property. Stepmother to children who despise me. Trapped in a world where one wrong move could get me killed.
But I'm alive. I survived my wedding night. And despite everything, I felt something last night, pleasure, desire, maybe even the beginning of something deeper.
It terrifies me how much I responded to Cesare's touch, how my body betrayed every rational thought in my head.
I get dressed slowly, studying myself in the mirror. The woman looking back is different from yesterday. Marked. Changed.
I touch the key through my phone case, drawing strength from its weight.
I'm a Treacy woman. I survived my father's violence, an arranged marriage, and my wedding night.
Whatever comes next, I'll survive that too.
Time to meet the family, my family now, and figure out how to navigate this dangerous new world I've been thrust into.
The real test is just beginning.
CHAPTER SIX
cesare
I adjustmy tie in the mirror, mind preoccupied with the evening ahead. Tonight's gala is for Boston's elite, a night filled with meaningless chatter and annoying politicians who want to shake our hands, trying to get us on their side for the next election.
Fucking parasites, all of them.
A soft knock interrupts my thoughts. "Enter," I call out, turning toward the door.
Vittoria steps in, and for a moment I forget to breathe. She's wearing a deep red gown that hugs every curve before flowing out like liquid fire. Her dark hair is swept up in an elegant style that exposes her neck—a neck I marked last night with my teeth.
She's breathtakingly beautiful, and I feel a surge of possessive pride knowing she's mine.
"Are you ready?" I ask, voice gruffer than intended.
She nods, expression carefully neutral. "Yes, Cesare," she says quietly, her Irish accent making her words sound almost musical.
As we make our way to the car, I notice tension in her shoulders, the slight tremor in her hands as she smooths herdress. She's nervous. Good. A healthy dose of fear will keep her sharp tonight.
"Remember," I say as we slide into the limousine, "tonight is about presentation. You are my wife, the new matriarch of the Mariano family. Act accordingly."
Vittoria turns to me, eyes flashing with defiance. "I understand my role, Cesare. I won't embarrass you."
I reach out, grasping her chin firmly. "See that you don't," I warn softly. "The consequences would be... unpleasant."
For a moment, I see fear flicker in her eyes before she masks it with a cool smile. "Of course, husband," she says, tone just shy of sarcastic.
The rest of the ride passes in tense silence. As we pull up to the hotel, I turn to Vittoria once more.
"Stay close to me," I instruct. "Don't wander off, and don't speak unless spoken to. Understood?"
She nods, taking a deep breath like she's steeling herself. "Understood."
As we enter the ballroom, all eyes turn to us. I feel Vittoria stiffen beside me, but she keeps her head high, serene smile perfectly in place.
Good girl.
