His proud nose and full lips are set in a sharply chiseled face, and the olive undertone to his golden skin makes him almost glow like fine metal in the entryway’s soft, natural lighting.
He might just be the most handsome man I’ve ever seen.
And despite the terrifying things I’ve heard about him and his family for as long as I can remember, he appears not just fashionable but civilized and possibly even capable of being a gentleman.
Despite my revulsion toward the Mafia tradition of arranged marriages, or the fact that he’s a man in his prime and over a decade older than me, the first glimmer of hope flickers to life in my belly.
Leonardo Chiaroscuro and I were born enemies—our families have been feuding for decades—but maybe it doesn’t have to be that way for us.
Maybe Leonardo and I can start fresh.
Maybe we could even be the bridge to build a better relationship between our squabbling clans, like my father hopes.
Hands clasped behind him, Leonardo looks perfectly at ease as he studies the interior of our family home with mild interest.
But when his dark gaze finds me, it feels anything but casual.
My heart jumps into my throat, a shiver racing through me with its intensity.
His eyes are the color of melted chocolate, and the fire in them warns me that I might get burned if I come too close.
Butterflies take flight in my stomach as my body responds with an unexpected wave of anticipation.
Heat ignites across my skin as his gaze wanders lazily down my body—not scrutinizing like his father’s but rather like he’s already started to undress me in his mind.
His lips curve into a confident smile, and my spine tingles.
The hunger in his eyes, the wolfish appetite of a hunter that’s just spotted its prey, solidifies the rumors I’ve heard about Leonardo Chiaroscuro.
He knows how to appreciate a woman’s body—even if he only keeps her for one night.
To be the object of his desire could be an unexpected gift.
Or it could leave me quickly discarded while he parades an endless line of mistresses beneath my nose.
I shouldn’t get ahead of myself.
I’ve heard far too many warnings about the Chiaroscuro brothers to believe that this marriage will be anything but a trial to survive.
“Ah, there you are, Sora,” my father says, stealing my attention as he gestures for me to stand beside him.
Forcing my anxiety-stiffened limbs to move, I enter the room, my mother and Kenji coming to stand behind my father as we form a united front before the Chiaroscuro men.
“Chiaroscuro-sama, I believe you are already familiar with my son, Kenji, and my wife, Aya. Let me introduce you to your future daughter-in-law, Sora Tanaka. Sora, this is Don Augusta Chiaroscuro-sama and his sons Leonardo Chiaroscuro-san and Michaelangelo Chiaroscuro-san.”
“It’s an honor,” I say, bending into a respectful bow.
“The rumors of your beauty hardly do you justice, Signorina Tanaka,” Don Augusta says, his words formal, rehearsed even, but his tone is laced with approval. “It’s a privilege and a pleasure to finally meet the Yakuza’s most treasured jewel.”
A snort threatens to escape me, and I keep my eyes focused on the ground as I struggle to maintain my impassive expression.“Jewel”, perhaps, but “treasured”?
I would never go so far as to think I have that kind of value in my family.
I’ve been cut and polished to perfection so my father could sell me off at the highest price, but that does not mean he sees me as worth anything more than the alliance I can broker.
“Thank you, Don Chiaroscuro-sama. You flatter me,” I murmur when I can trust my voice not to betray my cynicism.
“Perhaps I can interest you and Michaelangelo Chiaroscuro-san in some tea while Sora shows her betrothed our gardens?” my mother suggests. “It’s unseasonably warm today, and the snow along the path has melted.”
