And apparently, in one week, I’d belong to him. My jaw tightened at the thought. Like he felt me staring, Sergio looked up. Dark eyes locked onto mine from across the room.
Calm. Knowing. Completely unreadable. Then the asshole raised his whiskey glass slightly in acknowledgment. Like we were already married. I looked away first out of pure irritation. Unfortunately for me, Chiara noticed.
“Come help me in the kitchen,” she said casually.
I narrowed my eyes. “That sounded manipulative.”
“It wasn’t.” She feigned innocence.
“That tone only works on people who fear you,” I reminded her.
Chiara smiled sweetly. “Get in the kitchen.”
Traitorous sister instincts forced me to obey. I followed her toward the massive marble island while behind us, Sienna loudly accused Bruno of “weaponizing carbohydrates against the ruling class.”
The second we were alone, I crossed my arms. “You are ruining my life.”
Chiara didn’t even look up from slicing strawberries. “What part?”
“Oh, I don’t know.” I leaned against the counter. “Maybe the part where my older sister accidentally turns into a mafia matchmaker after spending our entire childhood threatening to stab any man Papa picked for us?”
Her shoulders stiffened slightly. “Aurora…”
“No.” Anger flared sharp and hot beneath my ribs. “Don’t ‘Aurora’ me like I’m overreacting. One day Sergio is Leo’s emotionally constipated bodyguard, and the next I’m apparently marrying him.”
Chiara sighed softly. “Sergio is not our father. He won’t do what Papa did to us.”
“That’s not exactly a glowing romantic endorsement,” I hissed.
“He would never hurt you,” she added.
I laughed once. Sharp. Humorless. “You know, it’s incredibly concerning that everybody keeps using that as the selling point.”
“It matters.” She shrugged, as if the topic was closed now.
“It matters to you because you married a homicidal maniac and survived the experience,” I bit out.
From the dining room, Leo’s calm voice drifted toward us. “I can still hear you.”
“Excellent,” I called back. “Maybe hear this too: fuck you for making me go through with this.”
A beat passed. Then Leo answered calmly: “You’ll learn to love him.”
Sergio smirked faintly into his whiskey. I hated all of them. Chiara set the knife down carefully before looking at me fully.
“You think I wanted this for you?” she asked quietly.
“Yes.” I crossed my arms, glaring at her.
That surprised her. “You do?”
“Yes,” I snapped. “Because somewhere between getting married and having twins, you became frighteningly okay with the idea of choosing who I spend my life with.”
“Nobody’s choosing your life for you,” she argued.
“Oh really?” I laughed. “Then remind me again what happens if I say no to this wedding.”
Silence. The silence women in our world grew up understanding without words. I looked away first, gripping the cool marble counter too tightly. Outside the windows, the city glittered endlessly beneath the darkening sky. Beautiful from up here. Untouchable. Like freedom always was.
