Chapter 6 #2
The rest of the evening passes with polite conversation and business discussions. I keep Vittoria close, hand rarely leaving her back. She plays her role perfectly, charming those she needs to charm, staying silent when required.
As we prepare to leave, Johann approaches once more. "Cesare, a word before you go?"
I nod, turning to Vittoria. "Wait for me by the car." She nods, casting curious glances between Johann and me, before making her way out.
Once she's out of earshot, Johann leans close. "I have information you might find interesting," he says, voice low. "Your wife's father, do you know much about him?"
Every muscle in my body tenses. "I have a feeling what you're about to tell me will be news."
He nods. "After the shit that went down last year, I dug deep into the Costa family. Your wife's brothers are solid. They know the business inside and out and they adore their sister. They were furious when they learned about the arrangement between you and their father."
That's hardly surprising. Even Vittoria's mother was far from pleased.
"What is it you have for me, Johann?"
He glances around, lowering his voice. "From what my sources tell me, her father rules with an iron fist, not just with his men."
"Vittoria?" I question, though I already suspect the answer.
He pauses. "I haven't gotten confirmation or denial. I've only been told he's a bastard to everyone, including family."
Rage builds in my chest, hot and immediate. "Thank you, Johann. We'll speak again. Time to get my wife home."
If that bastard Domenico has hurt Vittoria, there's nowhere he can hide from me.
As I make my way to the car, my mind races. Surely, I'd have known if her father was abusive? Then again, there's so much I don't know about her. She's extremely good at keeping secrets.
She's waiting by the car as instructed, her face illuminated by streetlights. For a moment, I'm struck by her beauty, something she has no idea she possesses.
"Is everything alright?" she asks as I approach.
I study her face, searching for any sign of pain or fear. But all I see is curiosity and concern.
"Everything's fine," I reply, opening the car door for her.
As we slide into the backseat, I can't help but wonder if Johann is right. Is her father an even bigger asshole than I thought?
The ride home is tense and silent. She stares out the window, lost in thought. It's times like this I'm reminded of how young she truly is. She's wise and intelligent, far beyond her years. But looking out that window, watching the city pass by, she looks nineteen.
Vulnerable.
Mine to protect.
As we pull up to the house, I speak. "Come to my study," I tell her, my tone leaving no room for argument. "We need to talk."
Her brow furrows as she gets out of the car. She doesn't speak, just dutifully follows behind me.
The moment we're locked in my study, I turn to face her. "You are my wife, Vittoria. I will do anything to ensure your safety, but I need complete honesty."
She places her hands in front of her and nods. "What's wrong, Cesare?"
"Has your father ever hurt you?" I ask bluntly, watching her face carefully for any reaction.
Vittoria's eyes widen slightly before she schools her expression back to neutral. "I'm not sure what you mean," she says carefully.
I take a step closer, voice low and intense. "Don't play fucking games with me, Vittoria. Has Domenico ever been physically abusive toward you?"
She's silent for a long moment, eyes darting away from mine. When she finally speaks, her voice is barely above a whisper. "Why are you asking this?"
"Answer the question," I demand, patience wearing thin.
Vittoria takes a deep breath, squaring her shoulders as she meets my gaze. "My father is a strict man," she says slowly. "He has high expectations for all of us."
"That's not what I asked," I growl, frustration building. "Has he ever hit you?"
Her silence is all the answer I need. Rage courses through me at the thought of anyone laying a hand on her, especially her own father. I clench my fists, fighting the urge to put them through the nearest wall.
"Cesare," Vittoria says softly, reaching out to touch my arm. "It's not what you think. I'm fine."
I shake off her touch and pace the room as I try to calm myself. "How long?" I demand. "How long has this been going on?"
Vittoria sighs, sinking into one of the leather chairs. "It doesn't matter," she admits quietly. "It's just how he is."
Her words make my anger worse. I know she's not going to admit to anything more. She's been trained to protect him, to minimize his abuse.
I stop pacing and turn to face her. "Why didn't you tell me?"
She looks up at me, eyes filled with defiance and resignation. "Would it have made a difference?" she asks. "This marriage was arranged. Nothing was going to stop it."
Her words hit me like a punch to the gut. She's right. When the arrangement was made, Vittoria was nothing more than a pawn in a larger game. Her wellbeing didn't factor into the equation at all.
But things are different now. She's my wife, and despite the circumstances of our union, I feel fierce protectiveness toward her.
"Things are different now," I say, voicing my thoughts. "You're a Mariano. No one touches what's mine."
Vittoria's eyes flash at my words. "I'm not a possession, Cesare."
"No," I agree, moving to stand in front of her. "You're not. You're my wife. And I protect what's mine."
I reach out, gently tilting her chin up so she's looking at me. "From now on, you tell me everything, Vittoria. No more secrets. If anyone, and I mean anyone, threatens you or makes you feel unsafe, you come to me immediately. Understood?"
Vittoria holds my gaze, eyes shining with unshed tears. For a moment, I see the vulnerable young woman beneath the carefully constructed facade.
"Why do you care?" she asks softly. "This isn't a love match. I'm just fulfilling my role in this arrangement."
Her words sting more than I want to admit. I take a step back, running a hand through my hair in frustration. "You're right, this isn't about love," I say gruffly. "But you're my wife now. That means something in our world. Your safety and wellbeing are my responsibility."
Vittoria stands, smoothing down her dress. "And what about my happiness?" she challenges. "Is that your responsibility too?"
There's that fire I saw from the beginning, the spirit that both intrigues and unnerves me.
"Happiness is a luxury in our world," I say finally. "But I can promise you protection and respect. That's more than most in your position can hope for."
She nods, expression unreadable. "I understand," she says quietly. "Is there anything else you need from me tonight, Cesare?"
I study her, noting the fatigue in her eyes, the slight slump of her shoulders. Despite her strength, she's still so young. Still learning to navigate this world.
"No," I say softly. "You can go. But remember what I said, Vittoria. No more secrets."
As she turns to leave, I call out once more. "And Vittoria?" She pauses, looking back. "You did well tonight. I'm... proud of how you handled yourself."
A small smile tugs at her lips, the first genuine one I've seen all evening. "Thank you, Cesare."
As the door closes behind her, I pour myself a scotch, my mind whirling with the night's events. Vittoria continues to surprise me, her strength and resilience far beyond her years.
But the knowledge of her father's abuse gnaws at me like a cancer.
The next morning, I'm in my study reviewing security reports when my phone rings. Domenico's name appears on the screen.
Perfect fucking timing.
"Domenico," I answer, my voice carefully controlled.
"Cesare, we need to discuss some business matters. Are you free this afternoon?"
"I'll make time," I reply. "What's this regarding?"
"Territory expansion in Dublin. There are opportunities arising that could benefit both our families."
I lean back in my chair, mind already working. "Fine. Come by at two."
"Excellent. I'll see you then."
As I hang up, anger simmers beneath my calm surface. I'm going to enjoy this conversation more than Domenico realizes.
Because if Johann's information is correct, if this bastard has been hurting Vittoria, I'm going to make sure he understands exactly what happens to men who damage what belongs to me.
No one hurts my wife. Not anymore.
The afternoon can't come soon enough.