Salvatore #2
I nod to Elio, who steps out briefly and returns with a glass of water. Maria takes it with shaking hands, sips carefully.
“You’re going to marry her,” she says finally. Not a question.
“Yes.”
“Because of what my husband did.”
"You know exactly why you're here, Maria. Don't insult us both by pretending otherwise. Or should I call you Isabella Castellano?"
“You… you know.” Her voice is barely a whisper.
“I know everything.” I let the words sink in.
Maria’s hands twist in her lap, fingers knotting together. “Then you know I had my reasons.”
“Reasons don’t erase consequences.” I lean forward slightly.
"Your father, Vincent Castellano, served my father loyally for years. His most trusted advisor. The man who saw angles before they existed."
“I know what my father was.”
“Your father died.” The words come out sharp, brutal. “My father executed Vincent Castellano for failing to deliver on his promise. Shot his own consigliere in front of the entire family because of his daughter’s actions… your actions, Isabella.”
Maria’s face crumbles. Tears stream down her cheeks.
“I know,” she sobs. “I know what it cost. I’ve lived with that guilt every day for forty years.”
“Good.” I return to my seat. “But guilt doesn’t pay debts, Maria. Your family owes mine a bride.”
“So now you’re taking my daughter.” Her voice is hollow. “Making her pay for my choice.”
“I’m giving her the opportunity.” I pour myself a whiskey and take a slow sip. “Valentina will marry into this family. Will take the Vitale name. The debt will finally be settled.”
“She’s not part of this world.”
“Nonsense. She’s Vincent Castellano’s granddaughter.” I interrupt. “She has his blood. His intelligence. His strategic mind. She’s exactly what this family needs.”
Maria stands, trembling with emotion. “Please. Please don’t do this. Take me instead. I’ll do it. I’ll marry your uncle, your older brother, anyone. Please leave my daughter alone.”
The offer is pathetic.
And completely unacceptable.
“You?” I almost laugh. “You’re used goods, Maria. You spent years running from everything you were supposed to be. What possible use would we have for you?” I realize the harshness of my words and lower my tone to a more respectable level.
“You made your decision. You chose mediocrity over power, fear over courage, hiding over claiming what was yours.”
I set down my glass.
“But your daughter…” I move closer. “Valentina is young. Intelligent. Beautiful. Strong. She hasn’t been corrupted by weakness yet. She can still become what you were meant to be.”
“You’re going to destroy her,” Maria whispers.
“No, I’m giving her a crown, even if she hates the throne,” I murmur.
“She won’t go through with it. My daughter is not weak. She’ll never submit to you.”
“I don’t know how much you know about me, but I would never seek a weak woman. But for your daughter’s sake, you better hope she does.”
Maria sinks back into her chair, defeated. All the fight has gone out of her.
“What can I do? Please, let me help save my family. What can I do?” she asks quietly.
“Tell her the truth.” I return to my seat and pick up my whiskey again. “Tell her about her grandfather. About the arrangement. About why you ran and what it cost. Tell her about the debt her family owes.”
“So she can hate me too?”
“So she can understand.” I take a sip, let the whiskey burn. “Right now, Valentina thinks she’s a victim. An innocent caught in her father’s mess. But she needs to know the truth. She’s not paying for Marco’s debts. She’s paying for yours.”
“That’s cruel.”
“That’s honest.” I hold her gaze. “You want to help your daughter? Tell her the truth. Give her the information she needs to survive in this world. Because like it or not, she will be my wife.”
Maria is quiet for a long moment, staring at her hands twisted in her lap.
Then: “I will. But… Please, don’t hurt my girl.”
“You have my word. She will live comfortably, and she will be protected. Those things are non-negotiable.”
“How do I know you’ll keep your word?”
I lean forward, letting her see the truth in my eyes. The certainty.
“Because I’m Salvatore Vitale. I don’t make promises I can’t keep. And I don’t need to lie to get what I want. If I wanted to hurt Valentina, I’d have done it already. Instead, I’m offering her safety, security, and a position of power in my world. Besides… she’s my girl now.”
I stand, signaling the end of our conversation.
“You can see Valentina now. Thirty minutes. Elio will escort you to her room and wait outside.”
Maria stands too, and for a moment, she looks at me.
“You look like him,” she says quietly. “Your father. Same eyes. Same coldness.”
“I’m worse than my father.” I move toward the door. “Because I learned from his mistakes. Giovanni Vitale executed your father to make a point. But he let you go. Let you live your fantasy.”
I pause with my hand on the door handle.
“I don’t make that mistake. I don’t let debts go unpaid. And I don’t let anyone run from what they owe.” I look back at her. “Your daughter will be my wife. The Castellano debt will finally be settled. And you’re going to help me make sure she accepts it.”
“Tell her everything.” I open the door. “Elio will take you to her now.”
Maria moves toward the door, then stops. “Do you care about her at all? Even a little?”
The question catches me off guard.
I think about that surveillance photo. About the way I’ve stared at it for weeks. About the primal certainty that flooded through me the first time I saw her face.
About the way my chest tightened when I watched her cry on that security feed.
“I care about what she represents. What she can become. What she will be.”
“That’s not the same as caring about her.”
“No,” I agree. “But it’s more than you gave my father when you ran off with Marco.”
Maria looks like she wants to argue, but what can she say? I’m right.
She follows Elio out, and I’m alone with my thoughts.
Valentina will learn that this isn’t only about her father’s recent betrayal, but about an old family obligation.
She’ll have a choice to make. Accept her Castellano heritage and embrace her place in this family.
Or fight it and break herself trying to escape what was always meant to be.