Chapter 17
CHAPTER 17
ALISON
D arwin said that it was not the strongest of the species that survived, nor the most intelligent. It was the one most adaptable to change.
I have always been intelligent, and I’ve tried being strong, and it definitely wasn’t working out for me. So that leaves change. I desperately needed it, and maybe in that change, I could find my happiness.
While Matt and I spoke, the uneasy, corrosive feeling of loss, and maybe betrayal, was eating me up inside. The unsteadying emotions of the last two days surfaced once again, hitting me harder than they had before. The one thing that bothered me the most was what had triggered it this time.
Rejection.
Rejection from someone I was almost sure wanted me just as much as I wanted him. My brain just couldn’t process these unfamiliar feelings of jealousy, and I wanted nothing more than to get away from them. From him. From all of them.
I had started to realize that I was losing myself. This gloomy and sad Alison wasn’t me. But then again, who was I?
I saw how my brothers had found their places in life. Liam loved being an architect and was soon to be married, and Matt’s life was built around being a Don for as long as I can remember, and he, too, was fighting to get the love of his life back. Two businesses in the family that were thriving because of them, their ultimate happy ending right around the corner.
And me? What about me? I was neither. Not a mobster, not a successful architect. I was a dull and indecisive Switzerland. And now, not even my place in the family was the same or even clear. I was no longer the youngest, no longer the only girl. Or was Adrianne older?
Who the fuck was I?
I was the soon-to-be wife of Vincenzo Massimo, California’s one and only Don. The sister of New York’s Mafia Don, Matteo Battaglia. Sister to the heir of a world-renowned architectural firm, Liam Dornier, and daughter of its founder, Adrian Dornier. All of them defining who I was.
But who was I ? Could I stand on my own? Could I define myself?
As of now… I had no idea who or what I was!
This uncertainty was eating me alive already, but after finding out that I apparently had a sister, one that wasn’t supposed to exist, my already full bucket just started to overflow, with Max being the last drop that finally made it spill.
So why wouldn’t I accept to marry Don Massimo?
I could help my brother fight for his goal and maybe find myself in the process. I’ve always heard that if life gives you lemons, you should make lemonade. So this was me, accepting my lemons and making the best fucking lemonade I knew how to. I truly believed everything happened for a reason, we just have to be ready to accept the change.
Happiness was still a possibility. My decision wasn’t all selfless. I was doing it for myself, too.
Maybe this is my path, my cobbled road to happiness. I just needed to walk barefoot for a couple of miles, hurt as it may.
There was clearly no space for me here, so moving to California, a fresh start, a blank canvas to paint on as I desired, the opportunity to find out what made me tick without my family’s pressure, was maybe the disguised blessing behind this agreement.
So, here I was, after accepting Matt’s reluctant proposition to marry Vincenzo Massimo, ready to meet my soon-to-be husband for the first time.
I faintly remembered my late grandfather talking about the Massimos. He had a close connection to them. I just hoped their moral compass was as sharp as ours. But something told me that was nothing but wishful thinking.
My mind was racing with intrusive thoughts as I waited.
God, I hope he’s not old and fat! Oh shit, what if he’s one of those grumpy, retrograde, Italian slimeballs who believes that a woman’s place is in the kitchen?
The Mafia was a sexist and unprogressive organization, after all. Maybe I was too quick to pull that trigger.
Great job, Alison! You’ll probably be marrying a freaking caveman.
“Miss Battaglia?” I heard a deep, raspy voice that pulled me from my degrading thoughts. I looked up, and holy fucking cow!
“Umm… yes?” I mumbled, mesmerized. My eyes were still taking in the gorgeous man in front of me. He looked older than Matt, maybe fresh out of his thirties. His tanned sk in contrasted with his light eyes, but I couldn’t tell for sure what color they were.
If hypnotizing was a color, that would probably be it.
Maybe I was just blindsided by the rest of him. His dark hair and dense beard were already sprinkled with silvery rays, giving him a gallant and charming appearance. The pristine, black tailored suit that almost wore him added to his edge, amplifying the sense of lurking darkness.
The image of a perfect gentleman as a facade, hiding certain danger and ruthlessness. I could almost hear him say… My name is Bond. James Bond. I need to stop consuming so many movies.
“Good morning, Miss Battaglia. I’m Vincenzo Massimo.” A sigh of relief escaped my mouth . Maybe, just maybe, he was a little less of a misogynist than I was thinking. He looked less like those old-school mafiosos than I’d imagined and more like a billionaire from one of those extra-spicy romance novels.
“Good morning, Don Massimo,” I replied, a stupified grin on my face.
“It’s Vincenzo to you, Alison. Your brother just delivered the good news. You accepted my proposition,” He practically gloated as he took the seat across from mine, the same one Matt had occupied just a few minutes ago.
He struggled a little but never lost his elegance. I hadn’t noticed the cane he held in one of his hands. It was now on full display by the side of the table, leaning against it. The bright metal skull that topped the handle made it look just as dangerous as a Don would wish. I could clearly see this man left nothing to chance.
“It seems like I did,” I finally replied with a smile, still entranced by the undeniably striking man who would soon be my husband. Alluring as he was, could he erase every trace of the unrequited covet that stabbed me into accepting this deal in the first place?
I sure hope one day he could.
“You seem somewhat relieved. Were you expecting some old prune, complete with a bald head and beer belly?” He chuckled, seeing right through me, making me laugh, too.
“I was. I won’t deny that.”
“Sorry to disappoint you then. I’m more of a wine or champagne kind of man. I’m glad you conceded, though. But somehow, I can sense there’s a reticence somewhere. Am I wrong?” He was right again. Who was this guy? A clairvoyant or something?
“No, again, you are not. I have a condition of my own.”
“From what I’ve heard about you, that doesn’t surprise me. Let’s hear it.”
I shifted in my chair as if I were looking for the perfect posture for the battle I was about to face.
“I want half a year of freedom before we marry, in exchange for the rest of my life.” Why I had trimmed half a year to that condition was beyond me, or maybe I was just growing more eager to piece my heart together and start over. “I know that time must be a precious thing to you,” I started, swallowing awkwardly from such a delicate subject. Why did I downsize the time I had set on before?
“I can see you are informed about my… condition.”
“I am. Only the broad strokes.” I nervously confirmed before clearing my throat to break the tension and return to the main subject. “I need some time to live what I haven’t had the chance to live yet before I can fully commit. This is non-negotiable.” I was hoping my voice had come out as strong as my demand deserved. I would be handing my life over to him, it was only fair that I had some time to adjust to the idea first .
“Not afraid to speak your truth. I like you already.” He paused for a moment as if considering my words before he resumed. “I might be able to meet that condition. But I will demand your company for a couple of events, as my fiancée. Non-negotiable,” He replied, echoing my words back as a weapon.
“It looks like we are conducting a very strict negotiation here, if we can even call it that, since negotiating is totally off the table.” I paused as he did, faking to think about his simple proposition, too. “I guess that can be arranged.”
“Perfect. I can provide for you during this ‘sabbatical’ few months of yours…”
“Vincenzo… I know from where you’re standing, umm, sitting, I must look like a spoiled little princess whose every whim is catered to, but I am NOT helpless, and I can most definitely provide for myself. No ifs, ands, or buts. Now, that is non-negotiable and absolutely final. The same goes for after we are married. Don’t expect me to be sitting around the house waiting for my husband to come home like a submissive and docile Stepford wife. Even the reference is derogatory and insulting! I wasn’t expecting you to be so old-fashioned.”
“ Calma, Piccola . You’re already fit to be a queen!” Vincenzo stated over a chuckle with what looked like a proud smirk on his face. “I would never dare to tame you, piccola leonessa. Little lioness. Maybe one day, you will look at this union as something different than a gilded cage to keep you captive. You will be free to be what and who you want as long as, at the end of the day, your last name is Massimo. I will agree to these six months of freedom, but I am sure you know that infidelity is a sign of weakness. After we are married, your loyalty and unwavering attention belong to my family. Until death do us part. It might not be that long, after all.”
“I can see you deal well with your demons.”
“No. I’ve made peace with my truth. Speaking of which… Don’t get me wrong, Leonessa Mia , I am more than thrilled about your decision. I will not be the one talking you out of it, but be honest about your motives. Nothing keeps us awake at night more often than the lies we tell ourselves, and I am certain this so abrupt yet permanent decision wasn’t based on the goodness of your heart alone.”
“Maybe not. I was born into the reality of this world, of how everything is nothing but business. Maybe I found an opportunity just as you have. Maybe my motives are personal. Maybe one day I’ll tell you.” I smirked, trying not to give away my true motives.
“You have to know that, from this day on, I’ve got your back. You just need to give me a name.” I frowned at him, not understanding what he meant.
“I don’t think I follow…”
“The name of the dim-witted moron who broke your heart.” He clarified, his voice deeper, dripping in imminent danger. My wide eyes were stuck on him. There was no way on earth he could know anything. Besides, it’s not a person. Try a couple. It would be nothing short of a bloodbath. “You blinked twice when you said personal ,” Vincenzo said, answering my silent question.
“Oh…”
“I guess when motricity becomes a challenge, we can stop long enough to truly see people. It’s like a newly acquired weapon.” This man was nothing short of intriguing.
“I can see that. I hope you won’t use it against me too often.”
“I won’t, my dear. We are a team now,” He managed to reply before one of his men came by and whispered something in his ear. “I’ll sadly have to leave you now. Duty calls. Maybe you’d allow me to take you out for drinks later on? I know an idyllic little hole-in-the-wall wine bar in the West Village. You’ve earned your freedom for the next six months, but I can still try to use that time to get acquainted with my future wife.” Vincenzo was now on his feet, holding his hand out to accept mine, pulling me up to stand, too.
“Is that negotiable?” I derided, my flirty tone surprising even myself.
“Not if you are inclined to refuse.” His lips curled into a crooked smirk before he placed a light kiss on the back of my hand.
I was right about him being a gentleman.
“Then I won’t. I’ll meet you back here tonight.”