He kisses my temple, another claim, another mark and then he's gone, moving toward where Matteo, Luca, and Salvatore De Luca are having their little power meeting in the corner.
The second he's out of reach, I can breathe properly again.
How am I ever going to survive ‘forever’ with that guy?
I grab a fresh champagne from a passing waiter and down half of it in one go. My hands are still shaking slightly. I curl them into fists, nails biting into my palms until the sharp pain overrides everything else.
Get it together, Isabella. You've survived worse than a kiss from an asshole.
"Isabella! Sweetheart, how are you?"
I turn and there's my brother’s wife Alessia, looking gorgeous in burgundy, her warm eyes full of concern. Next to her is Bianca—Dante's wife, sharp-eyed and small but fierce as hell in navy blue.
I admire them both so much. If only I had just a little bit of the composure and control they do.
"Hey," I say, and my voice comes out steadier than I feel. "Surviving. Barely."
Alessia pulls me into a hug and I let myself have it for three seconds before I pull back. Physical contact is... complicated. But Alessia's safe. Bianca's safe. Most people aren't.
"You look beautiful," Alessia says. "Are you sure you’re okay?"
No."I'm fine. Just counting down the hours until I'm legally bound to an asshole for life."
Bianca snorts. "Vittorio seems... charming."
"Vittorio is a spoiled, arrogant prick who thinks he can buy obedience," I mutter. "But he's a useful spoiled prick, so here we are."
Alessia squeezes my hand. "Matteo wouldn't ask if it wasn't?—"
"Important. I know." I do know. That's why I came back from France after a year of trying to outrun my own head. That's why I said yes when they told me the O'Rourkes were moving again and we needed the De Luca alliance.
Declan O'Rourke. Killian O'Rourke.
Just thinking their names makes my stomach turn over.
"They need this alliance," I say quietly, staring into my champagne like it has answers. "The O'Rourkes are dangerous. We can't fight them alone."
I don't say the rest. Don't say that the O'Rourkes are the reason I still sleep with the lights on. That I spent nine years trying to forget what their basement smelled like, what Declan’s laugh sounded like when he?—
No. Not going there. Not tonight.
"Still," Bianca says, and there's something fierce in her voice. "You shouldn't have to marry someone you don't love."
I laugh, and it comes out bitter and sharp. "Love is a luxury people outside of the mafia world have. I'm a Romano. We have duty."
The music shifts, and I watch couples move onto the dance floor. Matteo pulls Alessia close, and she goes willingly, smiling upat him like he hung the fucking moon. Dante's hand settles on Bianca's waist with a tenderness that makes my chest ache.
They chose each other. They fought for each other.
I chose survival.
"Isabella."
Vittorio's voice behind me makes every muscle in my body lock up. I turn, and he's there, hand extended, that smile on his face that doesn't reach his eyes. The smile that says he knows he's won.
"Dance with me."
It's not a question. It's an order. And tomorrow I'm marrying this man, so I better get used to taking orders, right?
