"You're my wife."
I scoff.
"I might believe you if you'd treat me like one." I cross my arms over my chest, and Adrian's eyes linger on my breasts. "Tell me what's happening tonight. Tell me who these people are. Tell me what I need to know."
He studies me for a long moment, and I don't think he is going to say anything. Then he releases a world-weary sigh. "The Marinis control shipping and imports. They're neutral brokers between families, mostly. But they are looking for more power. Antonio, the head, has been Bianca's second, but they are getting older, and his heir and I…" He trails off. "We don't get along."
I snort, and he narrows his eyes.
"Antonio and Bianca decided they would force an alliance another way."
"Why?"
"Because the Morozovs are pushing boundaries. And alliances matter in this world. The Marinis control a lot of the docks and shipping. We work together, pay a fee, but that only worked with Antonio and Bianca. They want to ensure compliance when they move on."
"And what does this have to do with me?" All of this feels heavy and confusing, and it serves as another reminder that this world is something I don't know much about.
"Nothing specific."
"Then why do I need to be here?"
Adrian sighs, looking up at the ceiling. "You're the heir'swife. People need to see you. They'd ask questions if you weren't present."
Of course. I'm a prop. Evidence of stability. Proof that Adrian Nero is settling down, becoming respectable.
"Fine." I head toward the door again. "Let's go be assessed."
"Seraphina—"
"Six o'clock, right? Wouldn't want to be late for family business."
I walk out before he can respond.
The dining room is immaculate. Bianca, or rather, her staff, clearly spent hours on preparations. There are white linens, fresh flowers, and gold chargers behind porcelain China.
It's extravagant for a simple dinner.
I'm one of the first to arrive. Bianca is directing staff. Tonight she wore a black suit, perfectly pressed, and gold jewelry. Immediately, I realize that we match, and as a slow smile unfurls on her face, I can see that she is pleased.
"Seraphina. You look lovely."
"Thank you." I wish I could change, but there isn't time, and I know that I am just being childish.
"You are starting to show."
I flush. I am. "Yes, a bit."
"You need to eat more. Make sure that you are taking advantage of my chef. She's exquisite. I poached her from a Michelin Star restaurant."
I nod, staying silent. I never know how to deal with my mother-in-law—a society lady on the surface, and a Mafia Don underneath. It's like the worst of both worlds.
"Are you ready for tonight?"
"I don't know what I'm supposed to be ready for." Thehonesty slips out before I can stop it. "No one tells me anything."
Her lips turn into a frown. "You must ask if you want answers."
I bite my tongue in irritation. "Is that what I should do? Ask questions at dinner?"
