Epilogue
Dante
The restaurant is the kind of place my father loves.
Old money, older traditions, and a sommelier who hovers like he's waiting for someone to order the wrong wine so he can judge them for it.
I hate everything about this place but I'm here anyway because refusing my father's dinner invitations only makes things worse.
Senator Giulio Vitale sits across from me looking exactly like he always does.
Expensive suit, silver hair perfectly styled, that practiced smile he uses on campaign donors and criminals alike.
He's been a senator for twenty years and it shows in the way he holds himself, in the way he expects everyone around him to bend to his will.
"The Castellano girl accepted." He says it while cutting his steak with precise movements. "Her father called this morning. They're interested in moving forward with an introduction."
I take a drink of water because it's that or say something I'll regret. "I told you I'm not interested."
"And I told you that your personal interest is irrelevant." He doesn't even look up from his plate. "You're thirty-three years old and Matteo Romano's capo. You control two territories. You need a wife. You need heirs. This is not a discussion, Dante. This is reality."
"Your reality, father." I set down my glass harder than necessary. "Definitely not mine."
"Our reality." His eyes come up and there's steel in them. God, I hate the man! "Matteo just got married. You think the families aren't watching? Aren't noticing that his capo, his right hand, the man who controls New Jersey and Staten Island, has no wife? No family?"
"I do my job." I'm gripping my fork hard enough that my knuckles go white. "That's what matters."
"That's what you think matters." He takes a sip of his wine. "But in our world, a man in your position without a wife raises questions. Makes people wonder if you're serious about your future. Makes them question your stability."
"My stability." I laugh and it comes out cold. "I've made you and every politician in your pocket millions. I've kept the Romano operation running smoothly for eight years. But sure, let's question my stability because I don't have a wife. Can you hear how ridiculous this sounds?"
"You're being deliberately obtuse." His jaw tightens. "This is about more than just your capability. This is about your image and your legacy. You need a wife from a good family. You need heirs to secure your position. These are the rules of the world we live in."
"Rules you're obsessed with following." I lean back in my chair. "I'll marry when I decide I want to marry."
"When you decide." He sets down his fork with deliberate care.
"You've been saying that for two years now.
How much longer are you planning to wait?
The Castellano girl is from excellent stock.
Her family has connections in Boston and Philadelphia.
She's educated and perfectly suited to be a capo's wife. "
"Then you marry her." The words come out sharper than I intend. "Since you've apparently already decided she's perfect."
"Don't be childish." His voice gets colder. "I'm trying to secure your future."
"I'm thirty-three, not fucking dying." I signal for the check because I'm done with this dinner. "I have time."
"You're wasting time." He leans forward. "Every month you put this off is another month your position becomes less secure."
"My position is secure because I make everyone money." I pull cash from my wallet. "Not because of my marital status."
"For now." His eyes are hard. "But Matteo is building a dynasty. He has a wife now. Eventually he'll have children. And he'll expect the same from the men closest to him. You think he's going to keep a bachelor as his capo indefinitely?"
The question lands wrong and I can feel anger simmering. "Matteo trusts me because I've built political connections that keep him out of prison. Not because I have or do not have a wife."
"And those connections expect you to behave appropriately for a man of your station." He stands up. "I'm having dinner with Francesco Castellano on Friday. I suggest you join us. Meet Sofia. See if there's potential for an arrangement."
"I'm not interested in Sofia Castellano." I stand and throw money on the table. "Or any of the other women you've been trying to force on me for two years."
"Then find someone yourself." His voice carries frustration now. "But find someone soon. Before this becomes a bigger problem than it needs to be."
I walk out without responding and the cold air hits my face. My car is two blocks away and I walk fast, hands shoved in my pockets.
He's not going to stop. I know him well enough to know that this conversation will repeat every week until I either give in or find someone on my own.
The pressure is only going to increase now that Matteo is married.
Now that there's a precedent for the inner circle settling down and building families.
Fine. I'll find someone. Someone practical, who understands what marriage means in our world. Someone who can play the role at functions and produce an heir when necessary and otherwise stay out of my fucking way.
Because that's all marriage is— a way to secure power and position and legacy.
Love doesn't factor into it. Love is a fairy tale people tell themselves to make the transaction feel meaningful.
I watched my mother love my father and it destroyed her when he was never around.
Watched her drink herself into an early grave while he built his political career and pretended not to notice.
Love is a weakness. A vulnerability that gets exploited and a liability I have no interest in acquiring.
So, I'll find someone who understands that. Someone smart enough to know that what I'm offering is money and protection and status, nothing more. Someone who won't expect romance or affection or any of the bullshit that comes with pretending marriage is about feelings instead of function.
Just business.
That's all this will ever be.
Want to know what happens next?
To escape a union he despises, Dante Romano needs the perfect fake fiancée—someone untouchable, someone who won’t fall for the man beneath the mask.
But when the lie starts to feel real, desire becomes dangerous.