Chapter 13 Alina
ALINA
Istep into the bustling campaign office, my heart pounding as I take in the transformed space. The first night I was here, it was just Marco showing me around an empty space. The following day, it was more upbeat as I was introduced to some of my staff.
At first, I was a little ticked off that Marco would hire positions I normally fill when managing a campaign, but the people he picked were all enthusiastic college students and pretty great. So after our little welcome pizza party, I didn't mind.
And today, well, today we're in full kick-off mode.
Red, white, and blue banners drape across the walls, and a sleek podium stands at the center, ready for Marco's big moment. The air is buzzing with excitement and nervous energy.
Reporters wander about, their voices a low hum as they set up equipment and edge each other for prime positions. I catch snippets of their conversations, my name and Marco's peppered throughout. My stomach churns.
"You ready for this, boss?" Sarah asks. One of our junior staffers appears at my elbow with a tablet in hand.
I force a smile. "As ready as I'll ever be."
She nods, oblivious to the turmoil inside me, and hurries off to coordinate with the tech team.
I smooth down my dress, and the engagement ring on my finger feels like a weight.
I haven't taken it off since Marco put it there.
I tell myself it's because I want to get used to the size and wearing something on my left hand.
"Firefly."
Marco's voice, low and commanding, cuts through the chatter. I turn to find him walking toward me, looking every inch the polished politician in his tailored suit.
He looks… wow, I think as my pulse quickens.
"There are some people I want you to meet," he says, placing a hand on the small of my back. Even through my blouse, I can feel the warmth of his touch.
He guides me away from the others and toward a corner of the room where three figures stand. As we approach, I feel their eyes on me.
"Alina, I'd like you to meet my brothers, Gio and Enzo," Marco says, gesturing to two men who could only be cut from the same cloth as him. "And this is Enzo's wife, Livia."
Gio is all hard edges, broad shoulders, and a muscular frame that's solid as stone. He's about the same height as Marco and carrying the same intense gaze. When we make eye contact, he gives me a curt nod.
Enzo, taller and leaner, offers a genuine smile with very pretty blue eyes. There's a commanding quality to him, like when he speaks, you listen. But it's Livia who captures my attention. She's beautiful and composed, with an air of confidence that surrounds her.
"It's a pleasure to finally meet you all," I say, looking at the three of them. "Marco's told me so much about you."
He hasn't really, so I can see the political side of me is starting to appear.
"Has he now?" Enzo asks, his voice deep. "I'm sure it's only partially true."
I smile and turn to Livia. "That's a beautiful necklace," I say, nodding to the delicate skull pendant resting against her collarbone.
Livia's fingers fly to the pendant, and she grabs it. "Thank you," she says. "It's my good luck charm."
Enzo's eyes narrow in on me, and I can practically see the gears turning in his head. "So, Alina," he says, his tone casual, "tell me about your plans for my brother's campaign. I'm curious to hear your strategy."
I straighten, slipping fully into the familiar role of campaign manager. "Well, we're focusing on Marco's strong community ties and his vision for economic growth in the region. We'll be emphasizing his commitment to—"
"Anyone who can get my little brother to actually show up on time to meetings has my vote," Gio interrupts with a grin, giving me an approving nod. "You must be working some real magic there. Think you can keep that up all the way to the Senate?"
I meet his gaze confidently. "Oh, absolutely."
"I'm not always late. And for the record," Marco nods to me. "With her, we're going to win in a landslide."
Before I can add anything or they can respond, a staffer approaches, looking flustered. "Mr. Bonventi, sir, they're ready for you. The press is getting antsy, and I don't think they'll wait much longer."
"It's okay, let's do it," Marco says and turns to his brothers. "Showtime."
I give them all a smile.
"Ready?" Marco asks me.
I lock arms with him. "Let's go."
As we walk away, I feel their eyes boring into my back. Marco leans in close, his breath hot against my ear. "Don't worry about them. They're here to help when needed."
We turn a corner, and I force a smile as camera flashes light up the room. "Alright, baby, here we go. Remember, I've got you, Firefly. I'll do all the talking."
Marco moves to grab my hand and squeezes it tightly as we walk toward the podium. The flash of the cameras is nearly blinding. The room feels electric. As we stand there, everything feels surreal, like I'm watching myself from somewhere else.
As he releases my hand, I straighten up, plastering on my most convincing smile as Marco takes his position behind the podium. His presence commands attention, and the room falls silent. I stand slightly behind him, angled just so—perfect for the cameras, exactly as we practiced.
"Good morning," Marco's voice fills the room, strong and confident. "Thank you all for being here today."
My heart pounds so hard I worry the microphones might pick it up. I focus on keeping my expression warm, engaged, supportive—everything a loving fiancée should be. I notice a few reporters pointing at the ring on my finger; they're watching my every move.
"I stand before you today not just as a proud Chicagoan, but as a man with a vision for our great state of Illinois."
The crowd hushes, hanging on his every word. I watch him, marveling at how effortlessly he commands the room.
"For too long, our state has been plagued by corruption and mismanagement. It's time for a change. That's why I, Marco Bonventi, am announcing my candidacy for the Illinois state Senate."
The room erupts in controlled chaos—cameras clicking, reporters shifting, pens scratching against notepads. I catch sight of Enzo in my peripheral vision, his piercing blue eyes fixed on us. On me.
Marco raises his hand, silencing the crowd.
"But I'm not just here to announce my candidacy.
I'm here to share some personal news as well, especially now that we've all read that piece in the Tribune.
" He turns to me, his eyes locking with mine.
"I'd like to introduce you all to my fiancée, Alina Carter. "
He extends his hand, and I step forward, my legs feeling like jelly. The spotlight shifts, and suddenly all eyes are on me. I force a smile, hoping it looks natural. Marco must sense my nerves and strokes my knuckles with his thumb.
"Alina isn't just the love of my life," Marco continues, his arm wrapping around my waist. "She's also the brilliant mind who will be managing my campaign. With her by my side, I know we can't lose."
I watch several reporters' eyebrows shoot up.
Questions explode from the crowd:
"Ms. Carter, what about the concerns about conflict of interest?"
"Mr. Bonventi, when's the wedding?"
Marco's grip tightens slightly around me, and for some reason, it gives me the gusto to speak.
"I understand the concerns," I say, channeling every ounce of confidence I possess. "But I believe my track record speaks for itself. My personal relationship with Marco only strengthens my commitment to running a transparent and effective campaign."
Marco pulls me closer, and I catch a whiff of his cologne, and it oddly settles me. "I couldn't ask for a better partner," he says, looking down at me, "in both life and in this campaign."
The reporters eat it up, their cameras clicking frantically as Marco leans down and kisses my cheek. His lips linger, and I feel my skin ignite where he kisses me.
I tell myself it's only for the cameras to get the shot, but when he pulls away, I suddenly feel as if it wasn't long enough.
He looks at me and winks, my body instantly starts to tingle, and I look back at the reporters for more pictures, feeling myself turning red. My smile is anything but fake.