CHAPTER EIGHT
I had never ridden in a sports car, and Rocco had a silver Ferrari parked outside. “What kind of a Ferrari is this?”
He held the door open for me. “It’s a Superfast, also known as my baby.”
I sat down. “Your baby? Ha.”
He leaned down close to my face, and my pulse sped up. “Don’t be jealous. I’m sure you’ll take her place soon enough.”
Some of the tension I still had from my conversation with my grandmother lessened as I laughed with him, and he closed the door. The seat was black, immaculate, and molded to my body in comfort. I strapped in. Instant love .
Rocco put the car into gear and sped down the hill away from the house. “That was excessive. I haven’t been interrogated like that since I was fourteen on a first date.”
Fourteen? Try twenty-two . Rocco coming to pick me up as my future husband was my first date. Daunting. I’d never spent time with a man I was physically attracted to.. Having a relationship with someone that could never come to anything seemed a waste. “My grandparents are protective.”
“There’s protection and then there’s overbearing. It must’ve been hard sitting there while we negotiated everything for you.” Annoyance was evident in his tone. “I’ll go over it with you whenever you want.”
A flutter went through my stomach at his concern, but my life was always straightforward. “Honestly, I expected it to go that way.”
“Because of the arranged marriage?” he asked.
“Yes.” I cleared my throat. “I’ve known about it since I was fourteen.”
He slowed the car. “Hmm. How do you feel about it?”
I shrugged. “I’m fine with it.”
He turned into his grandpa’s, Mr. Marini’s estate and stopped on the drive. The spot provided a view that was glorious and invisible to see from the road. The fountain was elaborate, with two nymphs on shells and a spring shower flowing from their vases. Two large stone lions were on top of pillars, and a long stone balustrade path led to the front of a tiered-pillared, arched entrance.
“I would take you inside, but Grandpa would lose his head if he didn’t get to show it off to you himself.”
“So where did he travel off to?” I asked. He hadn’t mentioned it in our conversation.
“He’s in Italy helping my aunt prepare for our wedding.”
I wasn’t surprised. When I texted him he already knew things had gone sour with Willy Ashford. Had they been in talks with my grandparents before our arranged marriage? I wanted to ask Rocco, but didn’t because in the end it didn’t matter. I was now promised to marry him.
He exited the car, and I tried to open the door, but it didn’t open. He came around and opened it for me. “Let me be your gentleman.”
I covered my smile. Rocco was so different than I had expected, but what had I expected, exactly? I’d never seen him behave unruly. He was suave. Sophisticated.
He placed his hand on my back, and we walked to an outdoor elevator by the bi-level garage.
“We’ll reach the city faster by helicopter.”
Nerves swarmed in my stomach as we rode to the top. “I’ve never ridden in a helicopter.”
“You’ll be fine,” he assured me.
I trembled in the seat. “Uhm…how long is the flight?”
“Twenty-five minutes.” He shook the pilot’s hand before wrapping his hands on my waist, and lifting me into the seat like I weighed nothing. His hands felt strong and warm on my hips. Goosebumps rose on my skin and excitement coursed through me from the contact. I belted in, and Rocco settled next to me.
“This will help with the noise.” He put noise-cancellation headphones over my ears and grinned.
My heart pounded so hard I could feel it in my ears as we lifted off the ground. The helicopter swiftly curved and changed directions, reminding me of a too fast elevator lift. The swift changes in direction and air beating against the windows had me clutching the armrest.
“Adelina?” I heard Rocco’s voice through the headphones. “Talk to me.”
I squeezed my eyes shut. “I’m afraid of falling.”
Rocco’s hand clasped mine. His thumb rubbed circles on the back of my hand, and electricity surged through me from just his touch. It was warm, soothing. I’d never had my hand held before, and I liked it. My stomach fluttered, but then my conscience finally kicked in. He’s just holding your hand . I was getting caught up in such a simple show of genuine kindness.
I focused on a point in front of me to distract myself from his touch. The helicopter’s rapid changes were still there, but so was his contact, and my mind kept on shifting between the two. Then we were slowing, and a glance out the window showed the skyscrapers towering ahead. We had reached Manhattan. My hand went to my hammering heart at the sight. A swirl of excitement and wonder rushed through me, and I was all but a little girl in a magical kingdom full of wonder at the sight. New York City was the City of Dreams, and I instantly felt the magic of its rhythm. I hadn’t realized it but my hand had tightened around Rocco’s. My skin warmed, and I muttered, “Sorry.”
“Don’t be,” he said, squeezing my hand. He let go, and strange enough, my hand missed his warmth. Weird since I’d never been a touchy-feely type of person.
I followed him to a waiting Mercedes, and we climbed inside. His energy radiated and filled the space, pulsing into me. Even in this big city full of people, he stood out. It wasn’t only his gorgeous profile and magnetism, but there was a happiness that permeated from him. When he smiled, it was hard not to mirror it back. I wonder what makes him so happy?
Rocco removed his suit jacket and hung it on a hook near the door before turning to me with a broad smile. “How are you now?” He picked up my hand and gently squeezed it.
My heart beat faster. He seemed genuinely pleased. So sure of himself. His touch caused a tingling sensation on my skin, and I inhaled to try to slow down my pulse, to calm my breathing. His cologne smelled so good.
My skin warmed, and I lowered my eyelids. Was it obscene how much I wanted to stare at him? Or where his casual touches took my thoughts? Knowing he would be my husband and would do so much more took me to places in my head I rarely ever went. But then, it dawned on me that I hadn’t responded. “Oh, uhm…I’m fine. That wasn’t so bad. Thanks.”
“Good,” he said. “We won’t use the helicopter often, but it was quicker to get here, near our next stop.”
“Where are we going?” I asked.
“For lunch first. You didn’t eat, and I hoped we could talk.”
I was hungry, but nerves were also jumbling my stomach. Were we going to talk about how our marriage would work? I hadn’t planned for it. The only examples I had were the fights and violence from my upbringing. The rare visits with my grandparents were mostly them telling me what to do. Or the occasional times I visited Mama and Glenn. Thinking about them now, their dinners seemed more like business meetings. They went over checklists of what to do. What if I’m boring? Would he think he made a mistake? Choose an heiress who already knows her stuff?
“I’ve always loved New York, but I have little privacy here. Grandpa wants to give us his Westchester home—”
“I don’t want to live there,” I said without thinking. The house was too close to my grandparents. I loved them, but I could only imagine their constant pressure. “I’m sorry, uhm…I’ll be very happy with whatever. Please thank him. His offer is very generous.”
“Actually, I’m not keen myself. I was thinking Malibu for us.”
I beamed. “Wow. California? I’ve never been there.” The words came out of my mouth, and I immediately regretted them. I sound so unsophisticated.
But then Rocco said, “I’ll have to make sure to take you there, if it brings on a smile like that.”
My insides warmed.
“I know my public life might be hard for you, but I’ll try to take time away.” His eyes had glossed over and the corners of his mouth were turned down. I hadn’t thought that maybe things would not be as easy for him as well. It reminded me of Cassidy’s comment before our graduation.
“It looks like he has a type though,” I murmured.
“A type? Yes, sophisticated women who will blend into his well-traveled, decadent life. That’s his type,” Cassidy answered.
No doubt I would be cramping Rocco’s free-willed life. My hand hesitated on the seat, wanting to reach out and give him the same comfort he gave me on the flight, but I held back. Unsure. I was not his type. I wasn’t really bringing anything to this deal. That was very clear. And what would Cassidy think when she found out?
The car stopped and his demeanor changed. He was once again the confident man, ready for the world stage. The car door opened, and Rocco helped me climb out, keeping a hold of my hand as we walked to the building front. I’d seen photos of him doing this, so I knew it was simply something he did.
He was a fascination wherever he went, and all eyes followed him. From what I’d read, he had recently began modeling, and I imagined people always gravitated to his beauty. This became evident when people on the street stopped to stare at him. He kept at an even pace, with his head high, unaffected. Then again, he’d been a celebrity-heir for most of his life.
His eyes were on me whenever I took a glimpse at him. The intensity of his gaze was bold, electric, intimidating. It made me feel naked. And I hadn’t had enough experience to play it cool. So, I quickly shifted my focus to the sign outside the restaurant. The flash of cameras temporarily blinded me, and Rocco quickly moved us through the door. Paparazzi at a restaurant? Why?
It didn’t take long to find out the answer. The tables were full of celebrities and socialites I’d only seen on television or film. Rocco gave a few hellos in passing as we followed the hostess down a brick hallway to a private, white-linen-dressed table in the back. It had a muted ambiance with rich, dark toned wood and soft lighting that made me feel relaxed.
“They have delicious baked clams, and I love their linguine alla vongole . It’s almost as good as mine,” Rocco said.
My mouth dropped open. “You cook?”
“You don’t?” He sounded disappointed even as he grinned at me.
“I make a great packaged ramen,” I half-joked. “But to be honest, I lived in the dorms, so I was on a meal plan.” I tensed, waiting for a sympathetic look at my lifestyle, so vastly different from his.
But then he chuckled and said, “College cuisine. Not to worry, I’m a mood cook. We’ll have chefs.”
I kept my cool, but I was excited and nervous at the same time. Here we were, getting to know each other, after we’d already signed our marriage licenses today. Soon, I’d live with this man as his wife, and he, a celebrity who existed in a world I’d only seen from afar, would be my husband.
The hostess left with our orders and brought over a bottle of wine.
I tensed. “I don’t drink alcohol…”
“No problem.” He signaled for a change, and I ordered sparkling water.
I’d assumed Rocco’s lawyers had probably done more investigation than the Ashfords. Which brought me again to the biggest issue, and I had to know. “Why did you choose me? I mean, were you always planning for this?”
He tilted his head and smiled. “You prefer being direct; I like that. Marriages have always been arranged in my family, just like yours. My grandfather chooses his successor, and their wife. If we marry, I’ll receive the bulk of my inheritance. I’m rich, but Grandfather’s money will make me wealthy. I can do a lot of good with it. I’ve considered a run for higher office, but film is my passion. I’m producing, but what I really want is to build a Marini movie studio. That’s not exactly what Grandpa wants, but if I do what he wants, I get what I want.”
It was black and white. His inheritance was tied to me because of Grandpa Marini. “He kept in touch with me for a reason….”
He nodded. “I believe so. It’s not just you, but my grandfather had a personal connection with your family. We have a history.” His tone wasn’t exactly delighted.
My lips parted. “We do?”
His brows knitted, but he waited until the host served our appetizers before he replied. “Your family didn’t tell you?”
I shook my head. “I didn’t even know I was going to Manhattan,” I told him.
He smirked. “I bet that was Reginald’s idea. I’ll give you the short version. You Belfiore’s maintained a class hierarchy among the rich in New York. We came up against your family a few times. There’s other stuff, but the bottom line is, your family blames mine for taking what they had to sell to cover debts. We bought their properties and loans; it’s business. This marriage will tie up the loose ends. But please don’t let that bother you.” He stared off in a way that made me uneasy. He was either summarizing or being purposely vague. Surely, there was more to it than that. It was obvious my grandparents didn’t like Luca Marini, and he’d never shared with me the reason either. Maybe Rocco just wanted to move forward? Still, it had to be something serious that I didn’t think should be ignored.
I frowned. “But…but if we’re rivals, then you shouldn’t marry me. Why not just wait until your father is head of the family?” The words were out of my mouth before I could think about them. What am I doing? We need the Marinis money. My stomach knotted, but I couldn’t take the words back.
Rocco smiled and shook his head. “My mother is my grandfather’s daughter. The wealth passes to her male heir; it’ll never go to my father. He even had to take her last name, changing it from Rossi to Marini. If I wait, Grandpa could become senile or ill, or choose another elder son in our family. I’d never risk losing my birthright. Both of our families are willing to put our past behind us for a better future.”
The food came and we ate. Rocco was right, it was delicious. After what he shared, I realized he had a lot more at stake than I’d originally thought. And this was all because his grandfather chose me. It was hard to hear because I had grown so fond of him. The Marinis had all the money and power in the world, but it seemed that wasn’t enough. They wanted the Belfiores, too.
“Have you considered where you’d like to honeymoon?” Rocco asked, breaking into my thoughts.
“Honeymoon?” I repeated. “Uh, I…I never thought about us having a honeymoon.”
Rocco took a sip of his sparkling water, then placed it down. “You seem surprised. Arranged marriages are still marriages, just not for love. I don’t care about love; commitment to duty is what lasts. I need someone who upholds obligations, because in the art industry, it’s a must.” He sighed. “But you’re young.” There was an apprehension in his tone. It wasn’t just our seven-year age difference; we had completely different levels of class and experience.
I lifted my chin. “I am in age, but I spent fourteen years away from the Belfiore family. It wasn’t easy, but it taught me not to waste time on fantasies.”
“So, I’ve heard. My grandfather sees willingness and perseverance in you.” He gave me a dazzling smile that made my knees weak. “That’s what I want.” His piercing blue eyes and sculpted jawline made my pulse race. His lips were full, sensual. So sexy. He made it hard for me to stay focused. “So, with that sense of family and duty, do you consent to marrying me?”
My brows raised. It surprised me that he asked, but it eased some of my tension, even though it caught me off guard. “Isn’t it too late to ask that question?” I let out a nervous laugh.
“No, it’s never too late to change your mind,” he said. “I’ve told you why it’s important to me. Why is it to you?”
I blinked. “Well, it’s for my family. We’ve had issues in the past, but I have a chance to make things better for future generations.”
“And you? What do you personally want?” he asked and leaned closer to me.
“I…I want stability,” I murmured. It was the one thing I didn’t need to elaborate about. He caught me on my worst night when I was at the end of my rope.
“That’s a good reason, and I can give that to you,” he said with conviction infused in his tone. “The arranged marriages in my family have been the same for generations. They all ended up happy.”
“It doesn’t always work out like that.” I averted my eyes.
“I know, but things only work when you work on them.” He took a sip of his water, then put it down. “Let’s spend time together. Date.”
I grinned. “‘Date?”
“Yes,” he said. “Get to know each other. We do have something in common already.”
I put my fork down. “We do?”
“I raise money to fight famine abroad and here,” he said. “No one should go hungry. I read you raised money for charities?”
Pride swelled inside me. It brought me joy, helping women like Mama. “Yes, I did. For women to be safe, and children in need.”
His expression was serious. “That’s important to me, too. You know the evil in the world and want to make it better. Tell me something else you like to do.”
“I paint. Sometimes I paint stories people tell me,” I told him.
He smiled. “Illustration. That’s something to cultivate. We’ll make sure you do.”
A bubble of excitement bloomed inside me. Could I really illustrate? Paint? The possibility took my heart on wings, soaring into dreams. I lowered my head. Not possible.
“What did I say that made you stop smiling?” he asked.
I licked my lips and wanted to ask why it mattered to him, even though I liked that he’d asked. “It’s all so new and we don’t know each other….” It was the only answer I trusted myself to share. His family held all the cards in the marriage. Even with the niceties, I was bound to Rocco. He would decide to marry me. What if his grandfather, Luca Marini, changes his mind? Or what if something happens to him? Or what if we don’t get along. So many things can go wrong.
“I have time to get to know you, Adelina,” Rocco said confidently. “It’s up to us. We could have a lifetime.”
Could was the key. We could have one. But a lifetime? Just the idea made my head spin. Never had I thought that far ahead in my life.
“Grandpa felt lost and alone without Grandma—all his grandchildren had grown up—but then he found you. He told me your messages brought joy back into his life in a way he never expected.”
“He’s my friend…He sort of saved me, too,” I croaked.
“I’m glad you had him, Adelina. And it was partly because of that connection that I was happy about our arranged marriage. He’s a good judge of character and he likes yours,” Rocco said, and I sighed. I’m glad I had him, too.
“Thank you for saying that, Rocco, I appreciate it.”
He smiled broadly, and it made me a little breathless. Then he reached inside his suit jacket and took out a box with a small ribbon.
My pulse jumped and my fingers trembled as I went to open the box. It was an engagement ring. It had a big diamond, and smaller ones making up the band. No one for miles will miss this huge rock.
I covered my laugh.
“You laugh?” Rocco mused. “I hope it’s because you’re happy.”
Am I happy? I searched myself. Rocco was straight forward with his answers and reasons for our marriage. It wasn’t conventional, and we didn’t know each other, but it was a partnership all the same. It would take work, and he seemed willing to do it. Of course I had no experience, so I couldn’t decide if it was all charm. But it made me happy to know that he was putting an effort.
I gazed at the ring; it was stunning. “It’s so fancy. I never wear jewelry.”
“That’s something that needs to change. Women should have many jewels,” Rocco trilled.
My heart hammered in my ribs as he lifted the ring and slid it on my finger.
“We will celebrate and honor our marriage, Adelina. But I want you to know you’re a Marini now. And you will have only the best.” His gaze was intense, penetrating. The air between us shifted as I continued to warm under his stare. He truly is magnificent to look at . How thankful I was that I hadn’t been given to Willy.
“Bella,” he whispered, lifting my hand and pressing a kiss to the ring. It was his seal at securing his wealth and future, not for me. Still, I felt drawn to him. His lips brushed my finger, and they were warm, soft, luring. I felt a giddiness rising inside of me, laced with romantic notions. However, Rocco had been clear he didn’t care for love. He was more interested in duty and commitment. “That will last.” That was how I needed to be.
Don’t give him your heart, Adelina.
Don’t ever do that.