Chapter 19
Chapter Nineteen
Rayna
Apparently turning down Dante Moretti’s personal invitation to family dinner was not an option. Trust me, I tried.
Even pretending to be sick this morning didn’t work, no thanks to my traitor brother who ratted me out to his mentor. The little shit.
So now here we are, only a week into our new life, being thrown to the wolves.
We’re both dressed as if we’re going to a fancy restaurant, and we may as well be.
The Moretti mansion is pristine. Tall ceilings, impeccable marble floors, and decorative chandeliers that look more like art pieces than lightning methods.
Not only did Yordan essentially force me to attend this far too intimate event, he also abandons me mere seconds after we walk in the door.
He strides into the home like he lives in it, rushing off to greet one of the many Moretti brothers scattered all over the place.
Elio trails in right behind him, already laughing at a comment I must have missed.
My breath catches at the warmth and familiarity surrounding the large group of people. They all accept Yordan into their chaos with happy greetings and no hint of hesitation. My stomach gives an uncomfortable twist, and I instinctively reach to my side.
Snatching Apollo’s wrist, and tightly wrapping my hand around it, I exhale shakily. “Don’t you dare abandon me like they just did.”
His head tilts, eyes examining me with careful precision. “Did you see me attempting to walk away?”
“No.” I swallow, blinking. “But you won’t, right?”
Apollo’s mouth quirks on one side, lifting up into a half-formed grin. “Are you sure you wouldn’t like to trade me in for one of my more bearable siblings? I thought you’d prefer to be rid of me, micina.”
My eye twitches, picking up on the Italian word he’s referred to me as multiple times now. “Okay, you need to tell me what that means because I’m assuming this is your cute little way of calling me a bitch. And if you are, prepare to be kicked in the balls for it.”
“You think it’s cute?” He smirks, eyes sparkling with mirth. “My, my, Rayna. Are you beginning to enjoy my presence more than you let on? First you beg me to stay by your side, and now you’re calling the nickname I gave you cute?”
“Apollo,” I begin to warn, voice stern.
“Kitten,” he replies, a proud grin on his lips. “I call you Micina because you’re like a feral little kitten. Hissing, clawing, and scratching when you don’t feel safe. You hate new things, and you don’t trust anyone who can’t prove they’re safe to you.”
My lips part, head flinching backward in surprise. He hasn’t been calling me some wretched curse, and still, I’m not sure if Kitten is any better.
“If you still plan to kick me in the groin, you should probably wait until you leave my father’s house. He won’t take kindly to you jeopardizing the future of the Moretti line. I have yet to give him an heir, and my ability to do so is quite important to him.”
How charming.
“Let’s just get this over with,” I say, changing the topic. “Do not leave me alone, I wasn’t kidding about that.”
“Do you plan to hold my arm hostage the entire time?”
I look down, realizing I’m still gripping onto his wrist. I release him and grimace as I notice the white nail indents I left behind in his tanned skin. He probably thinks I’m a lunatic.
Apollo doesn’t mention how tightly I was holding him. He simply takes a step further into the house, waiting for me to follow his stride. “You need a drink.”
For the first time, I don’t have a single desire to argue with him. I match his steps, practically hanging off his side and he leads me further into the house. He doesn’t greet anyone we pass, and no one attempts to stop him.
“Red or white?” he asks as we enter a busy kitchen, referring to wine options.
“What are we eating?” I counter.
“Smart girl,” a feminine but mature voice comments, pulling my attention.
“Martha,” Apollo acknowledges. “Your recommendation for the evening?”
“Red,” the older woman replies without missing a beat. “We’re having steak and linguine, white will simply not do.”
Martha. I process her name, her attitude, and her face. This must be the chef and caretaker Yordan has mentioned.
Apollo looks at me for confirmation and I nod. “Red sounds good.”
“You must be Rayna,” Martha says while Apollo begins to retrieve the wine. “Yordan has told me many good things about you. He’s a sweet boy, very good at eating his meals.”
“He’s spoken fondly of you as well,” I admit, almost bashful. While she appears like a kind older woman, something tells me she’s more powerful than she looks. “Thank you for feeding him while he’s here. I’m sure you have enough mouths to feed already.”
“Never enough.” She grins, nodding to Apollo. “Not until this one gives me a bambino of his own to spoil.”
“Under a minute in presence before demanding I reproduce,” Apollo comments dryly, passing me a glass of deep red wine. “A new record, I’m sure.”
I take a small sip of my drink, relishing the rich and sweet but tart taste.
Martha waves him off, making a psshhh sound. “He will make such beautiful children, don’t you think?”
I choke on my next drink, silently choking it down with wide eyes. “Um, sure?”
“Handsome, isn’t he?”
Oh my God.
“Martha,” Apollo says, sounding exhausted by the woman’s antics. He doesn’t seem angry, so I assume he must be used to this.
“What?” she replies innocently. “I always brag about my young ones. Of course I am already boasting about the bambinos you will make. They will be just as clever and cute as you were.”
“Will they be as stubborn?” I mutter, taking a longer sip.
Surprisingly, Martha giggles loudly. “Oh, most definitely. That kind of bullheadedness is hereditary. He gets it from his father.”
“Such slanderous accusations.”
My spine stiffens at the sound of the deep voice, thick with an Italian accent. I turn slowly, looking over my shoulder to find Apollo’s clone leaning against the doorway. The man is decades older, but otherwise identical. Bright blue eyes, tan skin, dark hair, and sharp features.
Dante Moretti in the flesh.
“Slander,” Martha scoffs. “Dramatic boy.”
My eyes widen, hearing her refer to her Capo as a boy.
Only Dante doesn’t react to the comment as if it’s disrespectful. Instead, he chuckles. “How exhausting it must be, to be surrounded by my stubborn kin, and my stubborn self. However do you cope, Martha?”
“Whiskey,” she snarks, grinning back at him. “Have you met our guest?”
“I haven’t had the honor yet,” he replies, eyes shifting toward me. He detaches himself from the wall and approaches. “Rayna, is it?”
“Y-yes,” I stutter, seeing his hand extend toward mine. I hold my breath as he takes it, lifting our entwined fingers up to kiss the back of my knuckles.
“Lovely to meet the woman who, in such a short time, has captured my Apollo’s interest. Engaged, I hear?”
Glass shatters and Martha softly squeals. She dropped whatever she was working on and she doesn’t even care.
“Engaged!” She gasps. “Apollo Moretti, how dare you not introduce your fidanzata to me properly! Where are your manners?”
“W-what? No, no—”
“Where is her ring?” Martha questions, rounding the counter with her hands on her hips. “Boy I will beat you with my towel if you have proposed to this sweet young woman without a ring!”
“We’re not—”
“Telling anyone,” Apollo cuts in, interrupting me. “And if you yell any louder, the news will be ruined much too soon.”
“What are you doing?” I demand in a whisper, squeezing his arm.
“Yordan is not aware, and Rayna doesn’t wish to dump this news on him too quickly. They’ve only just arrived and fled a bad situation. He must settle first.”
Again, I tighten my hand around his arm. “Are you out of your mind?”
“They can keep a secret, micina.”
“Micina,” Martha repeats on a coo. “How perfect! My lips are sealed. But you must show me the ring when others are not around.”
“Congratulations, son,” Dante replies, a smug smile gracing his lips. “We’ll have to celebrate when the news is ready to be broken.”
“There is no ring and there is no news to be broken,” I burst out, panicked. “There’s nothing going on between us—”
“She’s afraid Yordan will hear from someone other than the two of us, don’t mind her. My fiancée is not quick to trust.”
“Apollo, I swear to—”
This time he doesn’t cut me off with words, with some silly explanation that is a lie. No, he silences me in an utterly shocking and unexpected move that stuns me speechless.
Swiftly, Apollo swoops down and presses his lips against mine. The kiss is only a short peck, but it’s enough to knock the air out of my lungs and strike me dumb.
“If you’ll excuse us, I’ll calm her down.”
I allow myself to be guided out of the room, mind spinning with confusion and…I don’t even know what else. It would be easy if it was anger. I could yell at him and lash out, but I’m not sure what emotion is stirring inside of me. I’m too baffled to process anything that just happened.
“You look like you’ve seen a ghost,” Apollo says, shutting us into a small private room.
“That didn’t just happen. It couldn’t have. This is a dream—no—this is a nightmare.”
“Flattering,” he muses.
His sass snaps me out of my stupor.
“Are you insane?” I demand, throwing my hands up. “What the fuck was that?”
“It was quite brilliant, actually.”
“Brilliant?”
He shrugs, unbothered by my shouting. “Rumors have already been flowing, clearly. My father wouldn’t believe us if we denied what he’s heard anyway.”
“He wouldn’t have heard anything if you didn’t keep letting people think we’re engaged!”
“I think you’re missing out on what a golden opportunity this is, Rayna.”
Golden. Opportunity?
He can’t be serious.
“Oh fuck you, you’re the only one who thinks marrying you is a golden opportunity, you conceded dickhead.”
His eyes roll. “Not the opportunity to marry me, micina. Do keep up.”
“You motherfuck—”
“A secret engagement benefits both of us,” he interrupts.