Chapter 14 #2
“The planner has been extremely stressed due to all the changes. I was thinking about giving her a bonus.”
“I’m not paying her a bonus just for doing her job.”
“I had a feeling you’d say that.”
“Oh yeah?”
“Between your whole speech about disliking frivolous spending and the fact that you seemed personally offended by my brother so smartly investing his money in a private art collection, I can just tell you’re a Scrooge.”
He scoffed. “I’ve been called worse. By the way, I saw you talking to Anthony. I’m warning you right now, don’t buy into his sob story. He’s been a money pit ever since he opened that fucking atelier.”
“He seems passionate about his work.”
“If he designed things that were practical, he might be successful. But so far, all his experiments are too fucking weird for anyone to be interested in them.”
Now I was really curious. “Until I see his designs, I’m just going to assume you’re being unfair. After all, we’ve already established you don’t understand art.”
“I understand it perfectly. It’s a racket, that’s what it—”
We were interrupted by a heavyset man barreling toward us. “Look at you, my boy! How long has it been? Five years?” He slapped Cosimo’s back. I could smell the alcohol wafting off him.
“Peter,” Cosimo said coolly as he shook the man’s hand.
“Came all the way from Vegas to pay my respects. You know, your father and I were supposed to meet up a few months ago, but we had to cancel. Shame.” His unfocused gaze slid my way. “And who’s this?”
“This is my fiancée, Fabiana Messero.”
“Well, would you look at this.” Peter pivoted toward me, and his gaze slid over me in a way that made my skin feel sticky.
“Your father picked her out for you himself? Good man. Took care of you, didn’t he?
” He inched closer. “God, look at you. How’s a man supposed to get any work done with that waiting at home?
” Moving faster than a man this inebriated should be able to, he grabbed my chin.
I gasped. Cold fingers dug into my skin hard enough to hurt.
Then they were gone. Cosimo stood in front of me, his body completely blocking my view.
Crack. A pained groan.
My stomach dropped. What the hell was that?
“Touch her again, and I’ll break all of them.”
Surely I’d imagined it. Surely Cosimo hadn’t just broken someone’s finger as punishment for him touching me.
Then I remembered—I would send you the photos my associate provided, but I’m not sure you want to see them—and ice slid through my veins.
Cosimo cleaned up well in a suit and a tie, but I wasn’t marrying a businessman for the next six months. I was marrying a mob boss.
I’d do well to remember that.
I peered around Cosimo, trying to figure out what was happening. There was a shuffle of movement, and two of Cosimo’s men led Peter away.
Cosimo rolled his shoulders and turned to me. His brows were pulled tight, and his mouth was a hard line as he assessed me. “Did he hurt you?”
“He barely touched me.”
“He shouldn’t have touched you at all.”
Apprehension wrapped around my lungs. “Did you break his finger?”
His gaze darkened. “A man who’s stupid enough to touch you once you’re my wife won’t be just maimed. He’ll be killed.”
Those words should have horrified me. And they did. But as he moved to my side and pressed a firm palm against my lower back, a wave of heat rippled inside my belly.
There was something intoxicating about being under his protection. About knowing that he’d keep me safe.
From everyone but himself.
I swallowed.
Some of the people standing nearby were casting glances our way after having witnessed what’d just happened with Peter.
“We caused a scene,” I said in a low voice.
Cosimo leaned into me, his lips close to my ear. “Peter caused a scene. You have a habit of taking responsibility for things that aren’t your fault.”
And yet Peter was gone, and here we were, and everyone was staring. I felt like an ant under a microscope. “I’m going to get some air.”
“You’re not going anywhere without me.” He took me by the hand and led me out of the reception hall.
Outside, the sky hung low and gray. The scent of damp soil still lingered from the rain that had passed through earlier.
The graveside service had begun in the early afternoon, and even now, there was still light in the sky.
Cosimo and I walked until we were nearly at the curb, far from the cluster of smokers gathered close to the entrance.
He seemed lost in thought.
What was going through his head? We’d talked more over the last few days than we had during the entirety of our engagement, and yet he still felt unreadable to me in so many ways. He was a man who revealed only what he had to, and not an inch more.
I pulled my coat tighter around me and thought of Mia’s warning. “I barely spoke to your mother today.” There’d only been a brief greeting when I arrived at the cemetery. “I thought she might come find us at some point. Do you know how she’s handling all this?”
“Don’t worry about my mother.”
His tone had gone abruptly cold.
I frowned. “She just lost her husband of thirty years. Of course I’m going to worry about her.”
“Or maybe, for once, you could try not to take responsibility for a problem that has nothing to do with you,” he said sharply.
Shock hollowed out my lungs.
Before I could recover, he pressed on. “I want you to stay away from her. For the entire duration of our marriage.”
My head jerked back. “You can’t say something like that without telling me why.”
“Yes, I can.”
Frustration flashed through me. Had I revised my opinion of him too quickly? “I agreed to this deal because you said you’d treat me with respect. Shutting me out and ordering me around is not respectful.”
His stare stayed hard and guarded, but when I turned to walk back inside, his hand closed around my arm, and something in his expression eased by the smallest degree.
“Look,” he said, “my mother and I disagree about something important. That’s all I can tell you. It’s a private matter, and she and I will sort it out ourselves. I’m asking you to accept that.”
I wanted to push. I could feel the questions gathering behind my teeth. But I stopped myself. Did I really need to know what was going on between the two of them to do my job for the next six months?
A job. Yes. That was how I needed to think about this.
That was how I would keep myself from getting confused.
The less entangled I became with Cosimo and his family, the better.
I would do what he needed me to do, play my part, and spend the rest of my time thinking about the life waiting for me on the other side of this arrangement.
“Fine,” I said. “I’ll do my best to avoid her if that’s what you want.”
“It is.” His hand fell away from me. “Let’s go back. Given how much wine everyone’s consuming, they’ve probably already forgotten about Peter.”
A gust of wind caught my hair, whipping a few strands across my face. I lifted a hand to smooth them back.
That was when I saw him.
Out in the cemetery, between the rows of headstones that stood silently in the pale gray light, a man stood near Gino’s grave. He looked down at the fresh grave, the bare trees casting thin shadows across the ground around him.
Dark jeans, a leather jacket, a motorcycle helmet tucked under one arm. He hadn’t been at the funeral or the wake. All the other men had been in suits. He would’ve stood out immediately.
“Cosimo,” I whispered. “Look. Who is that?”
A beat passed. I glanced at Cosimo. His gaze was fixed on the man at the graveside, his brows drawn tight. “I don’t know.”
As if he’d heard us, the man lifted his head.
Saw us.
Was that a scar on his face? I couldn’t be sure, because the next moment, he was already sliding his helmet back on. He began to walk toward the road leading out of the cemetery at a brisk pace.
Cosimo strode to the curb and out onto the road. “Hey!”
The man broke into a run.
Cosimo took off after him, but he was too far away. The stranger reached a motorcycle parked under a tree on the other side of the cemetery, swung onto it, and turned the engine on.
“Wait!” Cosimo shouted.
The bike roared to life, shattering the quiet of the cemetery. Cosimo was only halfway to the man when he tore off down the road.
The growl of the engine swelled and then faded as the bike disappeared around the bend.