Chapter 2
Emma
B ees buzzed further from the roses I paced in front of. They dared to hover closer to me, but I lacked the energy to wave them off. All I could focus on was bottling in my anger and frustration. These insects wouldn’t hurt me. The meeting held inside my father’s house would.
Once again, Damon Giordino thought he could kiss ass and host a lunch with the heads of our biggest rivals, the Marchese. Antonio and Vincent Marchese had been in there with my father for well over two hours, and the length of their discussion served only to chip away at my patience. And my sanity.
But how could any woman claim to be sane when she was arranged to marry a cruel sadist?
Krista’s slight slurps on her straw picked at my frayed nerves more than the bees humming. Cubes clinked against plastic as she fought to get the last drops of her iced coffee. She chilled there, under the shade of a Japanese maple, watching me stride back and forth, over and over again.
“Stop. Please.” I shot her a dirty look, ready to beg my best friend to quit that slurping and clinking. It was torture, wondering when she’d start up again.
She sighed, setting the cup down on the low stone bench she’d claimed as a seat. “I’m just trying to stay cool.”
“We’ll go back to the pool as soon as they’re gone.”
“Why not now?” She crossed and uncrossed her legs, clearly uncomfortable in this heat. While she didn’t need my permission to go back to the pool where we’d been swimming before lunch, she seemed to choose my company over solitude. Being the daughter of a high-ranking capo earned her some benefits, after all. My friendship mattered more.
“Don’t be stupid.”
She huffed a tired laugh. “I’m not. What’s stupid is pacing out here in the heat. Go back and forth all you want”—she flicked a finger side to side, indicating my route, at the same time she flipped her honey-hued waves over her shoulder—“but it’s not going to equal running away from Antonio.”
I grimaced. She spoke the truth, but I didn’t have to like it.
“I know it’s not ideal, but you can’t avoid it.”
But what if I could? Somehow. Some way.
Surrendering myself in an arranged marriage was bad enough. But to him? A lifetime with Antonio Marchese, next in line to rule one of the biggest crime families in Florida?
No.
“It’s just how it is,” she reminded me unnecessarily.
Arranged marriages were the norm, but I wanted so desperately to be the one to break free. To snap out of this mold and make my life my own, dammit.
“And if you’re going to have to end up marrying him, why avoid him now?”
“Because I have to,” I shouted. As soon as I heard my raised voice, those hot words issued at my longest confidante, I wished I could take them back. Maintaining complete control over my emotions was a must. All my life, I perfected an icy blankness because I learned early on, since my mother died when I was a toddler, that showing emotions was nothing but a weakness.
On this matter, though, I was at my wit’s end. I couldn’t suck it up and lock it all in. Rage boiled beneath the surface of my skin. My heart raced with unspent adrenaline. The mere idea of being forced to Antonio—a concept I was first informed of before I was even an adult—incited that kind of a reaction.
Fight or flight.
Resist or flee.
I couldn’t beat the system. I wasn’t na?ve. I’d grown up as the princess of the Giordino family. Women simply didn’t escape arrangements like this. From the bottom of my heart, I knew there was no chance I could tell my father no thanks and have my way with it.
But can I run?
“Emmaline.” Krista sighed after stating my name in that exasperated tone. “What are you thinking? I know you’re freaked out, but you look...wild.”
“Desperate?” I offered instead. “I am desperate.”
“Again.” She pressed her hands together and leaned forward to rest her elbows on her thighs. “This isn’t news.”
“I know that.”
“This isn’t the first time the Marcheses have stopped over to talk to Damon.”
I nodded, pacing faster as if I could burn out all my energy walking nowhere quicker. “I overheard that they’re moving the wedding to the end of the summer.”
Krista shrugged with a pitiful smirk on her face. “Gonna happen sooner or later.”
“I’d prefer later,” I said.
“Why?” She sat up to cross her arms, frowning hard. “Why put it off? You can’t get out of marrying him.”
I’d start a war if I did. I’d never risk others’ lives like that. “Because my wedding will be the start of the end of my life.” I stopped and let my shoulders slump. “And I haven’t even lived.”
Others might argue that I had a high life of all my desires met. I was raised with wealth. I grew up in this enormous mansion with a full house staff. I never had to want for anything. Some might call me spoiled, but I lacked one precious thing so many others in the world took for granted—freedom.
Freedom to go somewhere and be alone, just to be without soldiers and guards in my shadow. Freedom to meet strangers who I could deem worthy of my time and attention. Freedom to fall in love. To make love. To experience so many simple yet significant things that would forever be out of my reach after I was Mrs. Antonio Marchese.
I can’t do this. Bile rose up my throat, and I rubbed my hand over my stomach as it knotted and churned.
“Sis.” Krista winced, standing to come hug me. “It won’t be the end of your life.”
“You know what I mean.”
In a manner of speaking, my control over my life would be over. Here, as my father’s daughter, I had to relent to him having the say in my future. He’d paired me up with Antonio to gain the most benefit from the alliance, and in that, I was leverage. I was valuable.
As soon as Antonio was my husband, he’d own me. And there would be no point in him treating me well or keeping me happy. I’d be his pawn, his sex toy, his pussy to breed. That was simply the way of life in the world of organized crime families.
“You’ll still have me.”
I reared up to shoot her a skeptical look.
“Well, I hope.” She smiled, infusing optimism into her expression too quickly for me to be convinced she believed that. Antonio was a possessive freak. I bet I’d be locked inside for good.
“Just because you’ve been trying to sleep with Justin,” I said, referencing a Marchese soldier she’d had her eye on, “doesn’t mean I’d be able to choose my friends or be able to keep them close.”
The day I married, I’d be whisked to the Marchese mansion, and that would be that.
“Okay. What the hell can I say?” She deflated, dropping her arms and switching to a get real smirk. “You have to marry him. There’s no way out of it.”
I nodded, still rubbing my stomach.
“So they’re moving the wedding date from the winter to the end of the summer. That doesn’t change the fact that it’s gonna happen one way or another.”
Again, I bobbed my head, hating that she was right.
“Then why dread it now.”
“I can’t accept it.”
She gripped my upper arms. “You have to.”
“Fine. I have to.” I twisted away to pace again. “But accepting that I’ll never live is not something I can sacrifice.”
“What do you mean?”
I pulled a bit of the inside of cheek between my teeth and ground it between them, not biting down but putting pressure as I put my thoughts together.
“I have until the end of the summer.” I swallowed hard at that death sentence. “I don’t have to see him until then.” I pointed at the house I avoided, sticking to the ornamental gardens way out here. “I don’t have to play nice and act like a willing fiancée.”
She furrowed her brow. “Since you didn’t have to deal with the engagement party, I’d say you’re not technically a fiancée yet.”
I nodded, glad that I didn’t have to wear a ring yet.
“What are you thinking, then?”
“I’m thinking we—”
“What the hell are you doing hiding out here?” my father yelled. “Can’t you act like you’re willing to participate?”
Krista flinched, sitting back down in the shadows. I tipped my chin up higher.
“You know my thoughts on being a pawn.” I crossed my arms.
He stalked closer, fuming and sweating under the muggy sunshine. His hands lifted to violently swat at the bees, and I prayed they’d sting him. He had no allergies. It wouldn’t kill him. Seeing him suffer even a teeny bit would appease me though.
“Have I ever given you an indication that I give a shit what your thoughts are?” He scoffed, shaking his head. “You’re marrying Antonio.”
I kept my lips pressed together as I toyed with the inside of my lip again. I seethed. I steadied my breaths, exhaling through my nose. I would not give him the satisfaction of seeing me lose it. He wouldn’t care how mad or scared I was.
“You know this.”
He was saying the same thing that Krista just had, but it sounded worse from him because he was the one who dictated it.
“The family stands to benefit from this alliance.”
I looked away, unwilling to give him the courtesy of my attention. An alliance would accomplish a lot. The Giordino name would reap power from associating with Vincent’s family. We would get more money, more backup. All kinds of intricate consequences my father was greedy for. I understood it, yet I didn’t want to be the key piece in any of it happening.
Is it so wrong to want to live a little? On my terms?
“Look at me, you ungrateful bitch.”
I clenched my teeth, cutting into my cheek now. Slowly facing him, I fought not to tremble with anger.
“You’re marrying him.” He pointed his thick finger at me as he blew me off. “Whether you want to or not, you will be Antonio’s bride. Hide out here. Ignore the meetings. I don’t give a shit. Come August, you will no longer be my problem.”
He stalked away, cursing as he headed back to the house. Two soldiers flanked him, dutiful to maintain his security even on our own property.
Once he was gone, I looked at Krista. She had the grace to lower her gaze to the manicured grass, perhaps embarrassed or awkward on my behalf.
“Did you hear that?”
“Dammit, Em. If you could run away—”
“I am.”
She shot to her feet, eyes open wide with shock. “What?”
“You heard him. He doesn’t care where I am, what I do. Until August.” I lifted my chin higher. I couldn’t get out of this marriage, but I’d be damned if I didn’t try to live as much of my life as I could until then. “So, let’s hide. Let’s get away.”
She slowly grinned, catching on.
“We’ll go to one of his hotels and have some fun.”
“One last hurrah?” she guessed, excited now.
“Maybe one first hurrah.” I started to smile. “Maybe I can still lose my virginity on my own terms.”
Her eyes practically bugged out. “Shit. Sis, no. Antonio would—”
I held up my hand. He’d be furious. “It’d be worth it.”
She giggled, rubbing her hands together in anticipation. “You’re serious?”
“Absolutely.” Who knows...maybe I can find a way to stall this damn wedding after all. Now that the timer was ticking faster, I was itching to think up an alternative future for myself.
“What about the Tropican?” she asked. “Closest to the best clubs.”
I nodded. My father owned the Tropican resort through a few layers of shell corps, but he wouldn’t expend the effort to have a full security team trail me there.
“Ooooh.” She shimmied, already getting giddy at the prospect of partying. “One last summer of fun with my bestie.”
“Can you manage to stop your little crush on Justin and sacrifice being there that long?” I teased.
She blew a raspberry. “Who needs men?” She winked, linking her arm with mine to guide me back to the house. “Let’s go have some fun.”
You mean while I can?
I’d never been much of a partier, not like her. My goal was to hide and avoid my father and his expectations of me for as long as I could. But maybe she could rub off a little of her extroverted attitude on me while we were at the resort.
Because losing my virginity before Antonio could demand it felt like the best kind of preemptive revenge I could pull off.