“Oh my God, thank you,” I said as we left them behind. “I was dying. I would have cried if I had to hear them discuss his dukedom and family history any longer.”
“That’s what they were talking about?” Dom chuckled, shaking his head. “I guess you better get used to it.”
“Don’t remind me,” I muttered.
“I’m sorry, Norie.” He set his hand over my shoulder and pulled me to his side as we walked. “I’ve spoken to Pop countless times, but he doesn’t budge. Maybe he’s right, though. You’d be a duchess, and that’s much better than being a mafia wife.”
“Is it, though?” I twisted my neck to meet his gaze and raise an eyebrow. “And he’s old, Dom.”
“He’s not that old.”
“He’s thirty-five. I’m twenty-two. That’s disgusting.”
“Nora.” Dom sighed, stopped walking a few steps away from Rosie, and made me face him. “We all have to do things we don’t like.”
“He’s ugly, Dom.” I shut my eyes, hating how I sounded like I was whining, but every time I thought about Adriano touching me, my stomach revolted.
He sighed heavily and gave me a sad look before we continued our walk to the cocktail tables, where Lorenzo, Catalina, Gio, and Isabel spoke to Rosie and Dean. Again, no Rocco Marchetti in sight.
“Nora!” Rosie smiled wide as she hugged me and kissed my cheek.
“You look beautiful,” I said as we pulled away and did the same with the rest of them.
Rosie always looked beautiful. They all did. From what I could tell, despite their rocky beginnings, the three seem perfectly content being mafia wives. From my vantage point, it seemed much better than whatever awaited me with the Duke. Even Catalina seemed perfectly content as Lorenzo’s wife, and she’d been completely against marrying into this life. She’d been raised in boarding schools like me. The difference was that Uncle Joe wasn’t like my father. Cat and her sister Emma had always been free to choose their spouses. Dad said it was because Uncle Joe was more American than Italian. My father disapproved of this, yet he sent me to boarding school in the U.S., and in turn, I now felt like I related more to their rules than those of the old country. Unfortunately, I couldn’t abide them.
“Have you gotten to know Adriano?” Isabel asked.
“I can’t believe he’s a duke,” Rosie added with a raised eyebrow. “That sounds like the beginning of a fairytale.”
“Fairytale,” Dom said, grumbling as he put his arm around his wife and squeezed her into his side, biting her ear. “I’ll give you a fairytale.”
“Dominic.” Rosie slapped his chest and pulled away with a laugh. “We’re having a conversation.”
“Well, I don’t like it.”
“I don’t like it either,” I said. “I don’t want to marry a duke, prince, or anyone. It’s not my choice.”
“Arranged marriages aren’t all bad,” Isabel said, and Gio grinned.
“First off, Giovanni is hot, respectfully,” I said, making them laugh. “Secondly, you two got very lucky.”
“You’re right. We did,” Isabel agreed and gave me a small smile. “I’m sorry, Nora.”
I shrugged. I didn’t know how to respond to the apologies everyone was offering.
“To be fair, Nora,” Cat said. “A guy hit on you the last time we went out, and you ignored him.”
“He was hot,” Isabel added.
“Who are you talking about?” Gio said. “Where was this?”
Isabel rolled her eyes. “We are allowed to look at other men, you know.”
“And we’re allowed to wipe them the fuck out,” Dominic responded.
Everyone laughed, including me, though I’m not sure they were joking. One could never be too sure with this bunch. Even their jealousy and possessiveness were something I longed for. Yes, they could be annoying and over the top, but at least they knew they were loved. Besides, it was a healthy possessiveness. It wasn’t like they were locking up their wives at home. I looked over at Dean, who had been on his phone the entire time. He leaned in and said hello with a kiss on the cheek and a smile. Dean was also hot, and even though he was over thirty, I would gladly accept an arranged marriage to him. That thought made me hold back a laugh. I was such a hypocrite.
“What about you, Dean?” I asked. “No arranged marriage?”
