This is Bianca, Adrian’s mother.
The head of a mafia family.
She's tinier than I thought.
"—told you courthouse," Adrian's voice is cold. Furious. "Not this. Not a fucking circus."
"Watch your language." Bianca's tone is sharp. "And this is not a circus. This is a statement. The heir to the Nero family doesn't get married in some dingy courthouse like a common criminal."
"You overstepped."
"I did what was necessary." She looks at him as though she is bored. "Every head of family and business associate will see you married and settled.”
"I didn't want?—"
"What you want is irrelevant." Bianca's voice cuts like glass. "You got a girl pregnant. You brought her into this family. Now you'll do it properly."
They both turn when they hear the door open.
Bianca sees me first. Her expression shifts from bored toassessing and calculating. She looks tiny next to her son, but there is something shrewd about her, and I immediately know she's not someone to be crossed.
"Well," she says, a warm smile spreading across her face. "Don't you look lovely."
I stand there like a deer in the headlights, too scared and skittish to move.
Adrian's eyes are on me, and I shiver at the hungry I see there.
"Leave us," he says to Bianca.
"Adrian—"
"Leave, mother. Let me talk to my fiancé.”
For a moment, I think Bianca will refuse. But then she inclines her head slightly and walks past me toward the door.
She pauses. Leans close enough that only I can hear.
"The bridal suite is down the hall. Second door on the left. You'll wait there until it's time."
Then she's gone, and I'm alone with Adrian.
He moves toward me slowly. Like I'm something that might bolt. Maybe he's right.
"You look beautiful," he says quietly. He takes me softly into his arms, and I melt, just slightly. It feels good to be comfort. At least, that’s what I tell myself.
"I'm sorry about the wedding." He gestures vaguely. "I wanted it to be simpler. Quieter. But my mother?—"
"Is your boss," I interrupt.
He glares, but I don't care if he's insulted.
My voice is steady despite everything. "You said if I was good, I could see Gabe. I'm here. I'm wearing this dress. I'm going to marry you." I lift my chin. "I've been good."
Something flickers in his eyes. Approval? Satisfaction? Lust?
Gemma’s words echo in my mind, and I wonder if I could indeed us some power over Adrian.
"After the ceremony," he says.
