7. Liana
LIANA
I spend three days in Dario’s house and I see him twice in all that time. Me and Sonny spend our days at the pool or in Dario’s vast library. Dario brought everything in from the car, and to my surprise even the jewelry the guys ripped off me is among my things.
I bite my lip, wondering how Dario managed that. I probably don’t want to know.
“Where’s the guy who saved us, Mama? The hero?”
I snort. “I don’t know if I’d call him a hero, Sonny. He’s just a friend.”
“Well then where’s our friend?” he asks sassily. I can’t help but smile as we dangle our feet in the water, sitting on the steps of the shallow end.
“I guess he’s at work.”
As if talking about him conjured him up, Dario appears, walking out of the back door onto the patio by the pool.
“Dinner’s ready,” he says.
There’s always a huge meal on the table at dinnertime, whether Dario is here or not, and I suspect there are staff in this house, but I never see them. It’s almost like the haunted castle in that movie with the beast.
Dario sits down with us for dinner, at the head of the large table, and I peer at him.
“Haven’t seen you in a few days.”
“Busy,” he mutters, digging into his food. He doesn’t speak past that and I huff out a breath.
Sonny asks to go upstairs and play after he eats and I nod listlessly.
“I’ll be up to play with you in a minute.”
I watch him go and I’m about to stand up before Dario speaks.
“We’ll go to the courthouse tomorrow.”
“Tomorrow?” I ask incredulously. “So soon?”
He shrugs. ”No time like the present.”
“What about Sonny? I can’t really explain to him that we’re getting married in name only.”
“Don’t explain anything to him. I’ve hired a nanny.”
“Without consulting me?” I narrow my eyes at him and he sighs.
“Sorry. I promise she comes highly recommended. Her name is Marie and she has fourteen grandkids.”
I blink. “Well. I guess she does sound qualified.”
"I moved her in yesterday while you and Sonny were sleeping. She’s in the bedroom next to his.”
He moved her in? And I didn’t even notice?
Sonny and I have been napping a lot, probably because we hadn’t been sleeping well for weeks before the incident.
“O-okay,” I say finally, not knowing how to protest even though it seems like I should.
“See you in the morning.” He gets up and goes to leave as I stare at his broad back.
“What do I wear?”
He looks back at me over his shoulder. “Anything you want.”
Then he exits the room like everything isn’t upside down.
My father is almost certainly dead. It’s been six weeks since anyone’s heard from him. My stepmother kicked me out, and now my son’s father, the man who broke my heart, is going to be my husband.
How did I get here?
I walk upstairs, playing trains with Sonny until he starts to get sleepy.
I tuck him into bed, kissing his forehead. “You’re going to meet a nanny tomorrow.”
“What’s a nanny?”
“She’s kind of like a friend. Who takes care of you when Mama’s not around.”
Sonny pouts. “Where will you go?”
“Just have some things to take care of, honey. Marie will take good care of you, and I’ll be back before you know it.”
“Okay, Mama.”
His eyes are drifting shut and I smile, brushing his dark hair away from his face. Maybe it’s for the best Dario isn’t around much.
He might start to notice how much Sonny looks like him around the mouth and nose.
I walk out of Sonny’s room and climb into bed, cuddling up against the pillows. It’s easy to fall asleep on the comfortable bed, even though I’m stressed about tomorrow.
When I wake, daylight is streaming in the windows and I yawn.
I head to the bathroom to relieve myself and brush my teeth before immediately going to Sonny’s room.
He’s not there. Panic rises in my throat.
I rush down to Dario’s room and bang on the door.
He opens it, wearing no shirt and a pair of slacks. There’s a scar he didn’t have before high up on one pec. I want to run my finger across the white scar, but I restrain myself, looking away from his firm body.
“Sonny is missing,” I say quickly, coming back to myself.
He chuckles. “He’s not missing. He’s down having breakfast with Marie. She’ll be keeping him distracted while you get ready.”
I put a hand to my chest. “Oh, thank God. Maybe let me know next time she whisks him away.”
“Tried. Knocked on the door but you were conked out.”
“Really?”
I never sleep that soundly. I guess I really have been exhausted.
He hums and slides on a white button-up shirt, pushing the sleeves up to his forearms.
Fuck, he looks good. He’s only gotten hotter with age, the lines around his eyes making him look distinguished instead of old.
He’s about fifteen years older than me, which my father would hate.
But I don’t know. I’ve always gravitated toward older men.
I realize I’m just standing in the doorway, staring at him, and I quickly leave, heading back to my room and going through my more expensive clothes. I finally find a white gown I bought for some event.
It’s not quite a wedding dress, but it’ll do.
And this isn’t exactly how I imagined my wedding. Even though for a while, I’d imagined Dario as the groom.
I flush, embarrassed to even be thinking that way. Those dreams were dead. That girl, the one who fell in love with him, didn’t exist anymore.
Now I’m someone different. Someone he wouldn’t want, anyway.
He hasn’t made any kind of move, hasn’t tried to kiss me, so I’m assuming this is to be a sexless marriage, too.
But if he gets his fun somewhere else, so will I.
I have the dating app in my back pocket and I’m still getting messages.
I descend the stairs wearing the white gown and some diamond earrings, my hair up in an intricate bun I learned from my awful stepmother. At least she was good for something.
Dario clears his throat as he looks up at me, his eyes widening.
“You certainly found something to wear. You look beautiful,” he mutters. He leads me outside to his car.
I’m glad Marie is distracting Sonny, because how would I explain this dress?
Dario is silent all the way to the courthouse, parking in the parking garage. Another man walks up to us, handsome in a different way than Dario. He’s dark haired, too, but has piercing blue eyes and a wider frame than Dario, even though he’s shorter.
Dario seems to catch me looking and grunts, taking my hand.
“I’m Liana,” I say to the man as Dario drags me toward the front.
He grins and waves. “Giovanni.”
Then I’m filling out paperwork and providing my identification. Dario pulls out his wallet and voila, the ceremony is slated to begin in thirty minutes.
I sit down next to Giovanni and Dario frowns, sitting on the other side of me.
“I’ve heard a lot about you,” Giovanni says and Dario huffs out a breath, glaring at him.
I raise an eyebrow. “You have?”
I’m surprised. I always figured I was just another notch in Dario’s bedpost.
“Yeah, you really threw him for a loop,” Giovanni says mysteriously, and I frown.
“What does that mean?”
Dario glares at Giovanni as if he’s going to slit his throat. Giovanni looks back at him with an easy smile.
“Nothing,” he says, but he’s still smiling, clearly teasing Dario.
But what about?
It’s not like Dario was serious about me. If he were, he wouldn’t have cheated on me, would he?
The officiant calls, “The future Mr. and Mrs. Conte?”
Dario stands first and then I do. He takes my hand in his as we walk into the ceremony room. Giovanni follows, sitting in the pews as our witness.
“Do you, Dario Michael Conte, take this woman, Liana Elena Rossi, to be your lawfully wedded wife? Until death do you part?”
“I do,” he says, looking down at me with an unreadable expression.
My heart races and I can’t seem to keep from staring into those dark eyes of his.
“Do you, Liana Elena Rossi, take this man, Dario Michael Conte, to be your lawfully wedded husband? As long as you both shall live?”
“I do,” I say quietly. I’m surprised my voice doesn’t crack.
Dario leans down. I’m sure he’s going to kiss my cheek until he catches my mouth with his, sliding his tongue past my lips.
I melt against him despite myself, kissing him back hungrily. It’s been so long since I’ve been kissed.
He pulls away first and I lean against him. He chuckles down at me, pulling my hand up to his mouth to run his lips across my knuckles.
My heart races, a shock of pleasure shooting up my spine.
If he asked me to warm his bed, would I say yes?
I think I would.
There’s clearly something wrong with me.
But when we leave, Dario is chatting with Giovanni, not paying me much attention.
“You’re going out with who?”
I hear that coming out of Giovanni’s mouth and my ears perk up. I hurry to walk a little closer as we approach the parking garage.
“Selena Yeoman.” There’s a hint of pride in Dario’s voice that I don’t like.
Giovanni whistles. “Wasn’t she dating Johnny?”
“Not anymore,” Dario says smugly, and I huff out a breath.
He glances back at me, expression blank.
I climb into Dario’s car, not wanting to hear any more about Dario’s date.
I pull my phone out of my purse, replying back to one of the messages—a cute, tall, blond who messaged me the night before.
Want to go out tonight?
He responds immediately with a resounding yes, and I tell him I’ll meet him downtown at a dive bar that me and my best friend Beth, frequent.
Speaking of Beth, I need to call her. She gets so worried when she doesn’t hear from me, especially after my father went missing. And as Dario’s cousin, she’s going to be floored by what I’ve just done.
In fact, now that I think about it, the last time my father was in some kind of conflict, it was with the Conte family. I frown just thinking about it. Does that mean that Dario had the opportunity to kill him?
Would he have?
I look out the window at Dario, think about how my jewelry and handbags came back to me. He had to have done something to those men.
Did he do something to my father? He’s really the only person I suspect.
I frown deeper as Dario gets into the car, humming happily as he drives us back to the mansion.
I held out hope for a long time that my father just went on one of his notorious benders, but he hadn’t done that in years, not since he met Felicia. She was a good influence on him, or so I thought.
But the first thing she did after he disappeared was kick me and his grandchild out.
My mind is racing, trying to think of any time my father had any interactions with the Contes. I didn’t know much about my father’s business. He always kept it secret from me.
But I heard him talk about the Conte family, knew they had some kind of beef.
Did Dario kill my father?
I don’t have much time to think about it as Dario gets out of the car, leaving me behind to open the door myself. I huff as I drag my gown out of the car, slamming the door behind me.
Dario goes into the downstairs bathroom to get ready, shaving and putting on cologne.
I stand there in the gown that doubled as my wedding dress, glaring at him.
“Something wrong?" he asks.
"Oh, nothing," I mumble. "Just wondering if Marie would keep Sonny for me tonight.”
Dario turns to me slowly, frowning. “Why would she need to do that?”
I hum. “I have a date.”
Dario’s expression doesn’t change other than his eyes searching my face.
“You have a what?”
“A date. You know, same thing you’re going on tonight?”
“You’re not wearing that, are you?” he asks, his gaze dropping down to my cleavage and then back up to my face.
I smile. “Thought about it.”
“No,” he says flatly.
“No, what? I can’t wear this dress? Can’t go on a date?”
He lets out a long breath. “You don’t wear your wedding dress on a date with another man, that’s all.”
“You’re wearing the outfit you wore to our wedding.”
He looks down at himself. “Fair enough.”
He pops open the shirt, buttons flying everywhere as he discards it. He heads up the stairs and I follow him.
He doesn’t seem to be reacting like I thought he would. Dario was always the jealous type, even though he clearly never really cared for me.
He was just territorial, or at least, I thought he was.
Dario is taking this better than I expected, though, and I’m not sure how I feel about it. Am I... disappointed?
Nevertheless, I head to my room, picking out a little black dress that shows off my curves and my long legs.
I keep the diamond earrings and light makeup I wore on, letting my hair down so it bounces around my waist.
When I walk downstairs, Dario is already heading out the door.
“Who is your date with?”
I balk at that and he sighs.
“For safety purposes, Li.”
“His name is Scott Howard.”
“He’s not even Italian?” he asks incredulously.
I shrug. “I don’t discriminate. He’s cute.”
“Cute, huh?” He pauses and then shakes his head. “Hope you have a good time.”
“I hope you have a good time with Selena,” I say through gritted teeth.
He grins. “You’re jealous. You’re doing this out of spite. You don’t really have a date.”
“Oh, I really do,” I say solemnly, showing him a picture of Scott’s dating profile. “Made it last night.”
Dario’s shoulders stiffen but he doesn’t say anything. “Have fun, Li.”
“You too,” I huff. I stalk back upstairs to do one more check of my hair and makeup before leaving. I’m not jealous. I hate him. He cheated on me. He might have killed my father.
But two can play this game.