“Bellissimaas always, Serafina.”
“Get it over with.”
He straightens and reaches into his jacket pocket. “Very well. I can appreciate a woman who’s all-business. Here.” He tosses me a black velvet box I barely catch between fumbling fingers.
A shiny diamond ring glares back at me. It’s larger than what I’d choose for myself, heavy with the weight of one tyrant’s dealings.
“Put it on,SignorinaMancini, and it’s one more step to fulfilling your father’s promise.”
Every eye in the room is on me as I tug the ring free, still debating chucking it at him and telling him to fuck off. It’s theman shuffling behind me who gives me the ability to push the heavy diamond onto the fourth finger of my left hand.
“Lovely,” Alessio croons in a mocking tone. “The ceremony will be in a month.”
A month? I hoped he’d prolong this for months. A year. Years—plural. Forever, ideally. I should have known better. He’ll want the contract fulfilled sooner than later.
“Invite anyone you care to, including your new family.” His gaze slides toward Vanessa. “Make the ceremony fit for a Vitale bride. Nothing half-assed. I’ll be in touch.” He says the last part to Zeno.
“We’re holding it here in Rome,” my brother states, his tone leaving no room for argument. “Our territory.”
Alessio shrugs. “Whatever you feel is best. Now, I’d like a moment alone with my fiancée.”
The term crawls over my skin. I’m hisfiancée. He’s my fiancé. God, the thought of it makes me want to gag, and I’m half tempted to right in front of him.
It won’t be for long. Fiancée. Bride. Wife. Widow.
Four stages—four steps. This is simply number one.
“But before that,” he continues, “a reunion may be in order.”
He snaps his fingers, a command to his men. The one closest to the door opens it and reaches into the sunny outdoors. A person is dragged in, someone much smaller than him, with dark hair curling around her shoulders and a gaze cooler than the last time I saw her. Her pencil skirt and cream blouse are everything opposite of the jeans and shirts I know her to prefer.
“Amara?”
I move, compelled to reach my friend. The one who ghosted me, who’s been mysterious. Whose presence should answer things but only worsens them. Zeno’s arm juts across my body, halting my advance. He shakes his head, fixated on the scene unfolding as my missing friend pushes away the soldierand crosses to Alessio’s side, her heels clicking against the hardwood. She lifts her chin, cool gaze sweeping over me and then everyone else, acting no different than a stranger.
“What the fuck?”
That earns the slightest tick of her jaw, but her eyes fall low, body tilted in Alessio’s direction as his hand snaps to her face, pinching her cheeks. She subtly flinches but otherwise doesn’t react.
“Serafina, I believe you’ve met my cousin. You should be thrilled, as soon, you’ll be family.”
“No.”Betrayal rockets through me. There’s no explanation needed; the pieces fit together. Why we became instant friends. Why Alessio was never conveniently around to meet her. Why she was insistent on getting me to that party. Her disappearance beforehand, and then why my messages never went through.
“I installed Amara into your life to get close to you. First, during your final year to become your friend, and then to ensure you were in the right place at the right time during the campus tour.” He casts a nasty glare at us both before dropping his hand from her face. “She played her part so perfectly. Attended university when needed, disappeared to revaluate the plan. She even got you to that party and away from your lapdog, allowing me to step in.”
My vision blurs, centring on the person I once believed to be my friend—my confidant. Someone Itrusted. All those conversations—a lie. Why she never spoke about her family was the same reason I never admitted mine. Two mob women hiding from one another, except mine wasn’t in deception.
The fist in my stomach unknots and takes me from betrayal to rage. I don’t realize I’ve jolted forward until one of Alessio’s men is yanking Amara out of the way, and Zeno’s arm latches around my stomach, lifting me kicking off the ground.
“Brutta stronza!”You bitch.
Alessio, meanwhile, hasn’t moved, and when he does, he simply gestures to his men. “You can remove her. Once again, she’s fulfilled her role.” To me, he says, “Unlike your family, the Vitales instill proper values in our women. Amara was following a command, nothing more. Blame me, not her.”
Oh, I’m blaming both of them.
I’m seething, my nails digging into Zeno’s arm as I glare at Amara being dragged away, all still without a peek towards me. As she’s shoved outside, she finally lifts her head. The cool eyes of a stranger meet mine before she dips her head once and disappears.
In no way am I calm, especially after whatever the hell that was, but I tap Zeno’s arm. “You could put me down now.”
