"Fine. Completely normal." I'm still sitting cross-legged on my bed, staring at the laptop screen—the one I retrieved from Santino's apartment this afternoon while he was at work. "Papaand I walked through the entire Valencia shipment distribution plan together."
"And?"
"And I reorganized our Lisboa route because it's currently being watched by Portuguese authorities. I delayed the entire shipment and rerouted everything through Barcelona instead." I close the laptop with more force than necessary. "Just another ordinary day in the business I'm not actually allowed to run."
"Liana—"
"I know what you're going to say. I know." I set the laptop aside on my nightstand. "I should be grateful for what I have. I should be making the best of the situation. That's what we do as women in this world, right?"
Gia sits down on my bed beside me. "You're really extraordinarily good at all of this. At running the business."
"I know I am."
"Papa knows it too. You have to know that he sees it."
"I know that too. But it doesn't actually matter in the end, does it?" I pull my knees up to my chest and wrap my arms around them. "None of it matters at all if I'm not a man."
"What if you told Santino the complete truth? About your actual involvement in the business?"
"Papa doesn't want me to do that. He thinks I should let Santino get to know me as a wife first before revealing anything else."
"Screw what Papa wants for once in your life. What do you actually want?"
I think about this morning at the port. About running that meeting with confidence and authority. About making decisions that affect millions of euros and dozens of people's livelihoods.About being genuinely good at something that actually matters in our world.
"I want to run this family the way I was trained to do. I want what Papa promised me when he first started teaching me all those years ago. I want to matter in a way that's real and permanent."
"You already do matter, Liana."
"Not enough. Not in the ways that actually count." I look at her directly. "And after I marry Santino? I'll matter even less than I do now. I'll be his wife. His possession. Just another valuable asset in his extensive portfolio."
"Is that really what you think he sees you as?"
I think about last night at his apartment. About the way he held me carefully when I couldn't stop crying. The genuine guilt in his eyes when he realized he'd hurt me. The way he called me enthusiastic instead of calling me crazy or delusional.
"I honestly don't know what he sees me as," I admit quietly. "And that's a significant part of the problem."
"Maybe you should actually find out before you marry him."
"I have exactly twenty-three days left to find out. Twenty-three days to either successfully make him walk away from this engagement, or figure out if I can somehow live with giving up absolutely everything I've worked for my entire life."
"Those aren't your only two options, you know."
"They're the only two options I actually have available to me."
Gia is quiet for a long moment, studying my face. "What if there's a third option you haven't considered? What if you tell him the complete truth? About what you know. What you can actually do. What you genuinely want from your life."
"And then what happens? He laughs at me? Pats me on the head condescendingly and tells me I'm cute for thinking I could ever be meaningfully involved?"
"Or maybe he surprises you in a good way."
"Men like Santino Marcello don't surprise anyone. They take exactly what they want and expect you to smile gratefully about it."
"You don't actually know that for certain. You're making assumptions about him."
She's right, and I know it. I am making assumptions based on limited information.
But what's the alternative? Trust him completely? Tell him everything I know and everything I want and just hope desperately that he's somehow different from every other man in our entire world?
