Tomorrow, I'll put an end to this charade.
I'll make it clear to Isabella, and through her, to her family, that I won't be controlled or manipulated.
9
ISABELLA
I stare at my reflection in the mirror as Maria arranges my hair, twisting dark strands into an elegant updo suitable for tonight's charity gala. My face appears calm. Inside, I'm seething.
"You're fidgeting again, Miss Isabella," Maria chides gently.
"Sorry." I force my hands to still in my lap.
Since Enrico interrupted Alessandro and me at the engagement party, my family has orchestrated an elaborate game of keep-away. Anytime Alessandro is in the vicinity, I'm flanked by Enrico like a prison guard.
They think I don't notice their strategy. I do. I notice everything.
"The roses or the pearls for tonight, Miss?" Maria holds up two hair accessories.
"The pearls, please."
It’s one choice in a sea of decisions I haven’t been able to make for myself. I haven't selected my own wedding dress, flowers, or even the food that will be served.
Mother insists it's tradition for the family to handle arrangements, but I recognize the lie.
This is all a show.
A show of wealth.
A show of strength.
A show of power.
And it’s not just to the outside world, but to Alessandro himself.
My father and brother are using me to show him he has no power over them.
In my mind, it’s a dangerous game.
One they’ll lose.
Especially if they think I’ll be their inside person to spy on or manipulate Alessandro.
That’s not the sort of wife I want to be.
I close my eyes, remembering Alessandro's gaze on the terrace, the way his fingers felt brushing against my cheek. The almost-kiss replays in my dreams, always ending the same way. With Enrico's interruption, with Alessandro's eyes hardening from warm desire to cold contempt.
"All finished," Maria announces, stepping back.
I examine the woman in the mirror. Perfect makeup, perfect hair, perfect dress. The ideal Vitale daughter, ready to be handed over in a peace treaty.
"Thank you," I murmur as she leaves.
Seven days until the wedding. The thought sends conflicting emotions spiraling through me. Fear and anticipation, dread and hope.
Tonight’s charity gala is the last major event before the ceremony, and everyone who matters in New York will attend.
A knock at the door reveals Enrico, handsome in his tuxedo and wearing his usual smug expression.
