I shake my head. “I have to train Riccardo.”
“How will you get to know Yuki if you’re busy at work?” Bianca asks.
“I’m going to give her some space for the first month or so.”
Worry lines form on both my sisters' faces, but it’s Sienna who says, “I think you’re making a mistake. I don’t believe an arranged marriage can work.”
“It’s worked just fine for Uncle Angelo and Aunt Torri, as well as Uncle Damiano and Aunt Gabrielle.”
“Yeah, but they’re old school,” she argues.
When it looks like she has more to say on the matter, I give her a stern look. “Stop, Sienna. This matter is not open for discussion.”
She instantly backs down, and getting up, she comes to sit beside me, wrapping her arms around me. “I’m sorry. I’m just worried about you.”
Bianca pulls another chair closer to my left side, and soon I’m getting the shit hugged out of me by my sisters.
Silence falls between us, and as I stare out over the backyard, I let out a sigh.
Jesus, I hope I’m doing the right thing for the Cosa Nostra, and this doesn’t explode in my face.
Chapter 11
Yuki
I haven’t slept much the past week, and the trip from Tokyo to New York was very exhausting.
As I’m standing in the hotel room, wearing a simple white wedding dress, my nerves are frayed, and I’m out of tears to cry.
My heart is beating a mile a minute, and my mouth is dry, but I know if I drink something, I’ll vomit.
“Let’s get this over with,” Yutaro grumbles as he opens the door.
My feet remain rooted to the spot, and I shake my head. My voice is nothing more than a croak. “I can’t.”
Drawing his gun, Yutaro aims the weapon at me as he comes closer. He presses the barrel to my forehead and snaps, “If you don’t marry Vitale, you are of no use to the Yakuza!”
My eyes squeeze shut as I suck in a quivering breath.
“Are you dying today or getting married?”
Knowing I have no choice, I whisper, “I’m getting married.”
He grabs hold of my arm, and I’m roughly hauled out of the room and toward the elevators. He doesn’t let go of me as we travel to the first floor, and not caring what other people might think, I’m dragged to a hall where Yakuza soldiers are waiting with the Cosa Nostra.
There’s no music. No flowers. No other women.
Just me in a room full of dangerous men.
Yutaro only eases his biting hold on my arm when we reach Mr. Vitale, then he orders in Japanese, “Do not bring shame to the Yakuza! If you do not go through with this marriage, I will kill you right here.”
I nod and swallow hard on the dry lump in my throat.
The man who’s officiating the ceremony has us repeating words that feel like nails being hammered into my coffin.
I keep staring at the dark green tie Mr. Vitale is wearing. It brings out the color of his eyes, which I only looked at once.
I can feel anger and danger coming off him in waves, and with every passing second, I grow tenser.
