“Now you’re asking the right questions. Go change, then we’ll talk over lunch.”
Wishing I could contact Dominico to make sure he was okay and to get some advice or information, I hurried to my room to change. Unmarried and pregnant with her son’s child, I could guess what kind of woman she probably thought I was. Determined to make her see me and not the situation, I tugged on my most modest dress—floral and knee-length with a fitted waist—let my hair down, and checked out my reflection.
My baby bump was starting to show. My clothes had been getting tight lately, but before the pregnancy tests, I’d dismissed it as too much pasta. Still unable to believe I was going to be a mom, I rubbed my belly and said a quick prayer that I was doing the right thing by leaving my house with his scary grandmother, draped a shawl over my shoulders, and headed out.
Rosalie drove an immaculate white Lincoln Town Car with tan leather interior and powered everything.
“I thought we’d start at the spa,” she said as we climbed in. “I could go for a little pampering, and I’m sure you could, too. The past few days have no doubt been stressful for you.”
That was an understatement. Waiting for Dominico to call so I could tell him about our baby had just about killed me. Although he and I had spoken about many things, we’d never once discussed kids and whether or not he wanted any. I hadn’t even considered the option until I suspected I was pregnant. But now that I had this little guy growing inside me, nobody was taking him away.
“Is Dom in danger?” I asked again.
“We’ll get to that, dear. First tell me about yourself. I want to know all about your family, your job, anything else important to you.”
And I wanted to know what was going on with the father of my child, but the important conversation would have to wait until Rosalie got her answers. Taking a deep breath, I relented, and told her everything about myself, answering questions as she fired them off. Yes, my mom had died of cancer. No, I’d never spoken to anyone from the mafia on the east coast. Yes, I enjoyed cooking. No, none of the families had planted me in the restaurant. By the time we got to the spa, I felt like I’d been through the strangest, most non-politically correct, interview of my life.
She dropped all serious conversation the moment we stepped into the spa, morphing into an average, everyday mom who was determined to be manicured, pedicured, massaged, fed, and mud bathed.
During lunch, she broke out a few stories about Dominico’s childhood, all of which had me rolling with laughter. According to her, he’d been quite the clown, suspended for everything from mooning his teacher to putting fake spiders in the principal’s office. He and Michael had run off more nannies than she could count.
“Those two always made me laugh,” she said, her eyes misty with memories. “Of course, sometimes I had to wait until he’d left the room, but I always got a chuckle out of his antics. I miss those days.”
The way she sounded like those days had come to an end made me sad. “I can’t speak for Michael, but Dom makes me laugh all the time,” I hurried to reassure her. “He’s got a great sense of humor. It was the first thing I noticed about him.”
Really, it was the second, but I wasn’t about to tell her I’d first been attracted to her son’s delicious body and dangerous smirk.
She studied me, as if trying to decide whether or not I was telling the truth. “Forgive me, Annetta, but it’s been a long time since I’ve heard my son laugh. It’s good to hear that he still has the ability.”
Despite my first impression of her, Rosalie turned out to be a gem. Granted, she still scared the hell out of me, but I kinda wanted to be her when I grew up. As our pampering came to an end, she took me into a small room where she sat us down facing each other and held my hands in hers. Suspecting that she was finally about to divulge why Dominico was in danger, I leaned forward and waited.
“You’re not a stupid girl,” she said finally. “You have to know what Dom does… As you said, “who he is”.”
I nodded, knowing it was dangerous to admit too much.
“I’ve been married to his father for twenty-six years now, and I can tell you first-hand how difficult it’s been. Late nights, early mornings, days when I wondered if he’d come home at all… the lifestyle is lonely.”
“I imagine.”
“You imagine, but you don’t know until you experience it. My father had no sons. Giovani—Dom’s father—was his first soldier… the oldest of two orphans my father took in and raised as his own. Gio was loyal and ruthless, everything my father needed him to be. So when I came of age, Father arranged our marriage and made Gio a Mariani.”
“Your marriage was arranged?” I asked, horrified.
“It’s how things were done,” she said with a wave of her hand. “How they’re still done. There’s no better way to form an alliance than with a marriage.”
As her words sunk in, my mind drifted back to the girl in the pink dress who was bragging about marrying Dominico. My stomach sank. “Dom’s marriage will be arranged, won’t it? To the girl in the pink dress from the engagement party?”
“I see I don’t need to explain much to you.” She squeezed my hands. “That’s helpful. You’ve met Valentina?”
Itwastrue. My heart bottomed out as I leaned back in my chair. “No. Just overheard her in the bathroom. She’s not right for Dom. She’ll drive him crazy.”
She nodded. “Gio never had the patience for puzzles. When we were children, he would force the pieces into place and get angry when they didn’t form a picture. He hasn’t changed much, still trying to force his pieces in where they don’t belong. Everything would flow better if he took the time to find the right spot.”
Dominico would have to marry Valentina. How long had he known? Since the party? Before? Had he been stringing me along this entire time? No, that didn’t feel right. He loved me.
“He should have told me,” I whispered, releasing Rosalie’s hands to cradle my stomach. “I asked him about her and he…” What had he said? “Not if I have anything to say about it.” What did that mean? Was Dominico plotting something to get out of marrying her? Cold dread filled my veins.
“What will happen if he disobeys his father?” I asked.
