I wouldn’t touch a random man now, unless I wanted to give him a death sentence.
My mother put too many men into the ground with her fickle nature and wandering eye.
I don’t want to walk the same path as her.
As we squeeze by a group of people, I drag my gaze over the crowd.
The house looks beautiful, dimly lit in the background, with flowers and balloons floating on the water.
A sweet smell travels from the thicket of blooming shrubs lining one side of the pool.
I so wish I could be away from here.
All my fretting over seeing Callum tonight was just a silly girl's dream.
Little did I know that my life would take a dramatic turn and I’d be facing such a brutal reality.
Still, I’m very much infatuated with him.It’s the only way I know to keep myself sane while walking this path of perdition.
I notice Sylvia’s shining hair and gown across the pool, next to the steps leading to the house.
Giorgio stands next to her, conversing with a group of men I’ve never seen in my life.
My heart races as I move my eyes over their faces.
Some are old. A few are young. They can’t be here for me. Please, no.
I’ve never met the Sandoval brothers, let alone Andrea Mancuso. I know things about them because of the gossip that had made the rounds, but I’ve never had the opportunity to run into them.
No surprise there.
My exile hasn’t only kept me away from New York, my best friend, and the world I knew. And why not Callum.
My exile, I come to understand, has been a very effective way to keep me away from the kind of men who could ruin my family’s plans.
It has also been an efficient way to keep me away from anyone who could mess with my head.
Smart bunch of tricksters, my family is.
I suck in a long breath and run tense fingers through my hair.
There’s no need to spiral down in panic until I know exactly who they have in mind to pair me up with.
I notice a couple of handsome men in that group, and I also spot Nona not far from us.
As if she can get a sense of my turmoil, she slides her eyes to me, and I suggestively tilt my head toward that group of men.
“That’s them,” she says quietly, and I read her lips more than I hear her voice.
The Sandoval brothers. Marco and Antonio. But it's not only them. To me, this doesn’t look like a gathering to discuss marriage arrangements.
It looks more like a business meeting.
Giorgio is up to something––so much for thinking that I was his favorite person.
I’m only a pawn in a much bigger plan.
A footnote in my family history.
