“You look exquisite,” Cesare says as he holds my chair.His hand brushes my bare shoulder, and it takes everything in me not to flinch.“That dress is stunning on you.”
The dress is emerald green, elegant and modest by any standard, but the way he’s looking at me makes me feel naked.His eyes trace every line, every curve, lingering in places that make me shudder inside.I have a hard time keeping the bile down, so it burns my throat as punishment.
God, I won’t last a day alone with this man without doing something unthinkable like driving a knife into his chest.
When the sommelier offers me the wine menu, I smile at her like my life depended on her presence.“Thank you.”I’m actually grateful for something to focus on besides Cesare’s empty, predatory eyes.“Shall we start with the 2015 Barolo?”
“Perfect choice.”He smiles, and I force myself to grin back.I’m sure my expression is as lifeless as his.He leans back slightly and adds, “Your father mentioned you have excellent taste.”
I’m sure my father has mentioned a lot of things when he was trying to sell me out to this man.Like the fact that I’m intelligent, well-educated, fluent in four languages, and skilled at managing Syndicate operations.All the qualities that make me a valuable asset.
Because that’s what I am to both of them.An asset to be traded.
Dinner is interminable.Cesare is charming on the surface.He’s well-spoken and attentive.He asks about my interests, my work with the family business, my thoughts on European expansion.To anyone watching, we probably look like a perfectly matched couple enjoying an intimate dinner.
But I fear what’s underneath.
The way his smile never reaches his eyes.The possessive edge in his tone when he talks about “our future together.”The calculated assessment in every question, like he’s taking inventory of what he’s purchased.And worst of all, the barely concealed anticipation when he mentions the honeymoon.
“I think you’ll enjoy Italy,” he says over the main course.“The Dellamare estate in Tuscany is quite beautiful.Remote, private.We’ll spend our honeymoon there.Just the two of us, getting to know each other intimately.”
The way he elongates the syllables of the word “intimately” makes me queasy.
“That sounds lovely,” I lie, cutting into my osso buco with more force than necessary.
“Your father and I have already discussed the living arrangements after the wedding.”He reaches across the table and takes my hand before I can pull it away.His palm is cool and humid, his grip just a fraction too tight.“You’ll move to my estate in Boston initially, of course.The one in Back Bay.I’ve already had the master suite redecorated to accommodate a woman’s tastes.”
He hasn’t asked whatmytastes are, though.
“How thoughtful.”I leave my hand in his because pulling away would blow my attempt to look compliant, but every nerve ending screams at me to run.“I’m sure it’s beautiful,” I offer in a flat tone.
If Cesare has noticed my lack of enthusiasm, he ignores it as his thumb strokes my knuckles.A gesture that should be tender becomes something like a claim.I clench my teeth to keep my body’s reactions in check.
“I want you to be comfortable.Happy.You’ll want for nothing, Serena.I’ll give you everything a woman could desire.”
Except freedom.Except choice.Except for basic human dignity.
“I appreciate that, Cesare,” I mutter.
“Of course, there will be expectations.As your husband, I’ll have the right to use your body as I wish, whenever I want to.”His grip tightens when I try to pull my hand.My heart sinks further into my chest at the implications of his statement.“As my wife, you’ll need to maintain certain standards.Your appearance, your behavior, your associations.The Dellamare name carries significant weight, and I can’t have my wife reflecting poorly on it.”
There it is.He’s beginning to show his true colors, his real intentions.
“Naturally,” I say, still keeping my voice carefully neutral.“I understand the importance of reputation.”
“I knew you would.”He releases my hand finally, and I resist the urge to wipe it on my napkin.“You’re intelligent, Serena.That’s one of the things that attracted me to you.Intelligence can be cultivated.Shaped.And with the right guidance, you’ll learn how to pleasure me.”
The threat is barely veiled.He plans to mold me into whatever he wants me to be.
Over my dead body!I scream inside my head, while plastering another lifeless smile on my lips.
By the time dessert arrives, I’ve made my decision.There’s no way—absolutely no way—I’m marrying this man.I don’t care what contracts my father signed or what political consequences follow.I will not spend the rest of my life with a man who looks at me like I’m a thing he owns because he signed a fucking piece of paper.More importantly, I can’t be tied to a man who considers me nothing more than a fuck doll.
But I can’t simply refuse.My father won’t allow it, and defying him directly would bring consequences I’m not prepared to face.The DiLorenzo patriarchy doesn’t tolerate disobedience, especially from daughters.
So I need another option.
I need to make myself unavailable.
