CHAPTER EIGHT
Serafina
Three weeks until the wedding
“Serafina!” Giulia approached me, smiling from ear to ear, almost too cheerful, which instantly put me on guard. Easily trusting anyone in our world could be fatal.
So I grew up being suspicious of everyone.
Especially those who were too kind. They always seemed to have a hidden, dangerous motive.
“How lovely to have you with us today,” she said, coming to stand in front of me. Giulia wore a cream-colored knee-length dress that fit her curves modestly. She was polished, perfectly put together and not a single hair out of place.
Just like me, her wardrobe was carefully curated to reflect power, family reputation and… control.
We represented the family before we represented ourselves.
Damon, who was standing beside me, cleared his throat. I forced a practiced smile. “I’ve been looking forward to it,” I responded politely. The fakery in my voice made me cringe internally. “Damon has promised to accompany me here today.”
“Oh yes, I knew you wouldn’t be coming alone.” More like I wasn’t allowed. I wasn’t married yet; I still needed a chaperone.
Giulia smiled at Damon, the corner of her eyes crinkling, and I swore there was mischief in them.
“How about you make yourself comfortable in the dining room? I’ll have one of the chefs serve you something fresh.
There’s no reason for you to be following us girls around while we chitchat. You’d be bored.”
Did she just… dismiss my brother?
Damon made a sound in the back of his throat, something akin to a low, irritated growl. “I had no intention of following you girls around like some lap dog. I’m not a goddamn babysitter.”
Confusion gnawed at me and I looked between my brother and Giulia. Damon stood with his arms crossed over his chest, his brows furrowed in annoyance and his lips tight. He looked evidently vexed.
But there was something else puzzling me.
They spoke as if they were familiar with each other.
“Thank you for clarifying,” she said, her lips twitching. “That you’re not a lap dog.”
My eyes widened at her reckless audacity and I had to carefully school my expression; otherwise, my jaw would have been on the floor. Goddamn, Giulia.
Damon hissed under his breath. “You—”
But Giulia was already turning toward me, dismissing Damon once again.
“Serafina, I’ve been so excited to have you here!” She clasped her hands together, her enthusiasm almost genuine before she wrapped her arm around mine, pulling me away from my brother.
Holy shit, the audacity just kept increasing. Who was this woman? I expected Giulia Salvatore to be demure, shy… obedient… definitely not full of sass.
She gestured for me to follow her through the grand foyer of the Salvatore estate. “I know you’ve had a whirlwind few weeks since the engagement party, and I thought you might appreciate a proper welcome to what will soon be your home.”
I looked over my shoulders to see my brother glaring at our parting backs before he stalked outside, past the entrance door. Wow, that was unexpected. I had never seen my brother so irritated, and somewhat speechless by Guilia’s audacity… perhaps boldness I should say.
Giulia and I walked side by side across the marble floor that seemed to stretch endlessly in every direction. The Salvatore mansion made the Morelli estate look modest by comparison—all soaring ceilings, crystal chandeliers, and artwork that belonged in museums rather than private residences.
I knew the Salvatores were powerful and the most influential of the five New York Famiglie, even more superior than the Chicago Outfit that is ruled by my father. But to witness their grandeur first hand was a little rattling… intimidating.
“Matteo was supposed to be here to welcome you himself. He truly was looking forward to it,” Giulia continued, her heels clicking rhythmically against the polished floor.
“But something urgent came up with one of our business ventures downtown. He sends his apologies and promises to be back for dinner.”
Business ventures…
What a delicate wording for what was probably some violent pursuits that required his immediate attention.
“That’s fine.” In fact, I was relieved. Since the engagement party fiasco, I hadn’t seen or talked to any Salvatores. It had been a much-needed reprieve of Matteo’s scrutiny… and Adrian’s recklessness.
“I appreciate you taking the time to show me around,” I said, keeping my voice light. “Will I be seeing anyone else today?”
“For dinner, yes, but during the day… Everyone does their own things. So you probably won’t be bumping into anyone else.” She beamed. “I’m your only company for the rest of the day.”
Giulia led me into a vast room dominated by antique furniture and oil paintings of stern-faced men I presumed were Salvatore ancestors. “This is the main salon,” she announced. “Frankly speaking we barely use it. The place is too big for just a few of us.”
“And through here is the formal dining room,” she continued, guiding me through double doors into a space dominated by a mahogany table that could easily seat thirty.
“For important family dinners. Otherwise if any of us wants to grab something quickly to eat, we use the breakfast room. It’s much cozier. ”
We moved from room to room. And each one felt more like a museum than a home. Beautiful, historically significant but utterly devoid of warmth.
No wonder Adrian had called me a caged bird; I would be exchanging one gilded prison for another.
I found myself stiffening at the thought of him. Since the night in the moon-lit garden, I had managed to avoid thinking of Adrian, but his presence still lingered like a shadow in my mind. Every now and then, the sudden memory of him…
Of his lips on mine…
His hands—
“Serafina? Did you hear me?” Giulia’s voice cut through my thoughts.
“I’m sorry… it’s just, this is a beautiful place. I got a little distracted.” I pushed the thought of Adrian, in his tailored tuxedo and black masquerade mask, standing under the moonlight, tall and handsome in a rugged, dangerous way, to the back of my mind.
He was the villain in my story, in my pretty gilded fairy tale.
“Does your whole family live here?” I asked slowly.
Would I have to see his face every day, bump into him every time, share meals with him?
“Matteo actually has his own place,” Giulia shared, guiding me toward the back, to where I presumed would be the kitchen.
“A large penthouse downtown, very modern. Not really my taste, but he likes that place. Still, he stays here. Family tradition and all. He’s the heir so Father insists on it.
So, this will be your home after the wedding. ”
I nodded, filing away this information.
“But I’m sure you and Matteo will be able to escape to the penthouse for some privacy on some days.”
Right…
We would be a newly married couple and all. The honeymoon phase some people would say.
God, I didn’t want to think about that.
“As for Adrian, he has his own place about an hour from here. A nice estate, close enough to the city for business but far enough to be private, just how he likes it. Nestled perfectly right next to the Ward Pound Ridge Reservation. Thick woods, miles of trails. Father wanted him to stay here, he practically insisted, but Adrian refused. He wouldn’t budge on this matter. ”
Giulia rolled her eyes. It was more playful than exasperated. She didn’t seem annoyed by her brother. In fact, I noticed gentle warmth in her tone when she spoke of Adrian, compared to Matteo. “Typical Adrian, he does whatever he wants and really, no one can stop him. Not even Father.”
“Is he always this…” My voice trailed off when I couldn’t find the adequate words to describe Adrian.
Arrogant. Unruly. Deviant. Conceited
An anarchist.
But I couldn’t say any of those words out loud.
But despite me not speaking those words, Giulia seemed to understand my silence. She let out a small chuckle. “Yes,” she said, her shoulder shaking with mirth. “He has always been like that, for as long as I can remember.”
She guided me through another doorway, and we stepped into a spacious kitchen with gleaming stainless-steel appliances and pristine marble countertops.
Two chefs in white uniforms worked diligently, almost in synchrony. One chopped vegetables with practiced precision while the other stirred something in a large pot. The kitchen was filled with a decadent, savory aroma that made my stomach grumble.
I skipped breakfast this morning because I was too nervous about this visit. I hadn’t known what to expect, who to expect…
Damon and I arrived in New York last night. We stayed in a hotel, trying to mask our impromptu appearance as ordinary.
My sleep had been fretful, and when I woke up this morning, my stomach churned with unease and apprehension. I couldn’t bear to put a single morsel in my mouth, let alone have the whole breakfast that was presented to me.
But now I was just relieved and suddenly hungry.
“This is where the magic happens,” Giulia said, gesturing around the kitchen. “Paolo and Thomas are making lunch.”
The two men nodded respectfully in our direction before returning to their work, but my attention was drawn to the single platter at the center of the kitchen island. A dozen perfectly frosted cupcakes were arranged in a circle, each topped with delicate piped roses in various pastel shades.
“Those cupcakes look good.” Holy shit, I wasn’t drooling, was I?
Giulia’s face instantly lit up, like a giddy child. “I baked them myself this morning! I love making cupcakes and they seem to be everyone’s favorite.” She moved toward the platter, picking up a cupcake with pale pink frosting. “Do you want to try one?”
I blinked in surprise. “You bake?”
“Don’t be so shocked. Baking is my hobby.”
She seemed to be trying to tell me that she was more than just a pretty face daughter of the Salvatore family.
I liked that Giulia was sassy, that she had a hobby, that she was talkative…
She was more.