“Oh, and in case you’re deluded enough to think he’ll marry you, forget it.”
Just as she’s about to fire back a retort, Dad approaches and leans down to press a wet kiss on her flushed cheek. As I watch in disgust, he slides a wrinkly hand inside her dress and squeezes her plastic tit, not caring a jot that people are watching.
It’s his way of asserting ownership.
Like I give a fuck.
The only woman I want is Chiara.
“Glad you two are making friends,” he says with a smirk. “Francesca will be in the office tomorrow. I’ll call Serafina later to give her the good news about Santini. We’ve decided it’s in both our interests for the marriage to take place as soon as possible, but Serafina will have time to train up her successor.”
With one final tweak of Francesca’s ample breast, Dad sits back down and pours himself a fresh cup of coffee while I pray he dies from a heart attack in the next twenty-four hours.
He must sense the dark direction my thoughts have taken, for he smiles.
“You need to get laid, son. Bring that wife of yours to heel.” With a final smirk, he adds, “And if you can’t manage it, send her to me. I’ll sort the little bitch out.”
As much as I hate the sentiment, I can’t help but enjoy the way Francesca’s face drops at the realization she’s replaceable to my father.
Good.
I hope the bitch knows her days are numbered. If I can figure out a way to scupper the deal between Santini and my father, Fina isn’t going anywhere.
Fina’s in my kitchen when I return home. She’s typing something on her laptop, but smiles when I stroll in.
There are dark circles under her eyes, which for once aren’t disguised by a layer of makeup. My sister isn’t sleeping well, even though I’ve encouraged her to remain here for the moment.
Dad prefers her living at home, but I’ve told him she’s helping me with a project and won’t be back yet. Surprisingly, he accepted my explanation for her continued absence, which was a relief.
“Is Dad okay?” she asks. Even though he treats her like shit, my sister loves our father. Fuck knows why.
“Yeah. Francesca blessed us with her presence.”
“Ugh. I hate that bitch. She acts like I’m something she stepped in.” For Fina to dislike someone, they have to be truly awful. My sister always sees the best in people, no matter what.
“Coffee?” I ask, using it as an excuse to delay what’s sure to be a fucking awful conversation.
“No, I’m good.” She nods at her mug, which contains something that looks a lot like piss. Herbal tea, perhaps, which is odd. My sister loves coffee, so for her to refuse a cup of coffee is unusual.
“Are you feeling alright?” I wouldn’t blame her if she weren’t. The stress of an arranged marriage hanging over her head can’t be easy to bear.
“I’m a bit under the weather, but I’ll be fine.” Her dismissive wave tells me she doesn’t want to talk about it, and I sigh inwardly. What I’m about to tell her won’t make her feel any better, so I decide to spit it out. Matteo is nearby, so at least he can comfort her.
Hugs aren’t my thing.
“Is Chiara around?” I ask, thinking that perhaps she can be Fina’s shoulder to cry on. After all, she has experience with this shit. That makes me wince, but I push the thought down.
My marriage to Chiara is nothing like the one my father has arranged for Fina. Chiara isn’t in love with anyone else, whereas Fina is hopelessly in love with Matteo.
“No, she’s still asleep.”
Ugh.Then I guess I’ll have to call Matteo in shortly. I sigh, wishing I weren’t the bearer of bad news.
“Dad’s decided you’re to marry Domenico Santini. He wants the wedding to take place as quickly as possible.”
Fina’s cheeks lose all color. “Santini the shipping magnate?”
I nod. “Yeah, him. Father thinks his trade routes are an asset we should leverage.”
