Chapter 2
Caterina
Two weeks later, I’m riding in the back of a limousine to O’Hare Airport with Nico.
I’ve never traveled anywhere outside of our territory, barely ever left Chicago.
But, due to all the concessions being made to keep the new peace, the traditional betrothal dinner will take place in Las Vegas, a change from the custom of meeting for the first time under the bride’s roof.
Mother and Father are riding separately. Mother’s beside herself with joy knowing I will marry a future Capo as she once did. I wonder if she’s ever considered Alessio’s reputation or how the De Lucas might feel about us after what Nico did.
Father has barely acknowledged my existence since informing me of my fate beyond asking my mother if there’s not something that might be done about my hair.
The spiky bangs are terrible, standing straight up and barely an inch in length.
Mother said time will correct my childish impulse that served no purpose.
No doubt, she meant it as an additional warning to behave myself on this trip.
My ancient bodyguard Manfredi fell asleep across from us in the limo after my brother wrapped his jacket around me.
He’d been staring at the horribly revealing dress Mother made me wear today.
Nico watches the old man sleep, like a predator pondering his next meal, until a speed bump catches me off guard and I gasp.
My stomach is swimming with nerves, but I feel the light touch of my brother’s fingers brushing mine.
“You are a Morelli, and you are stronger than you know, Caterina,” he murmurs. “Show them no fear.”
“I don’t feel very strong today. I wish you were coming with me.”
“We both know me setting foot inside their home so soon after I killed Sil, Jr. would be in very poor taste. Mother would be so embarrassed.”
Despite my nervousness, I feel my lips twitching at his gallows humor. “It’s a good thing Dante isn’t coming. He would definitely cause trouble.”
“Very true. Unfortunately, I have my own betrothal dinner to attend.”
Another concession for peace in the Trio, the future Capo of Chicago will marry the oldest daughter of New York’s Consigliere, Margareta Russo. As she’s already of age, the marriage will take place in a few months. “Are you nervous about meeting her?”
“Why would I be?”
“You have to marry a woman you’ve never met. What if she doesn’t like you?”
Even as I speak, I realize how silly I sound. Marriages in our world are rarely a matter of liking, much less love. Nico is a man, and he’ll be Capo. He has never expected to marry for anything beyond strategic purposes and to produce an heir someday.
But, what if the Consigliere’s daughter has cherished romantic daydreams she secretly wishes would come true?
I should know better.
She will move to Chicago and be at my brother’s mercy upon their wedding day. It’s her I should empathize with. Except I trust my brother not to abuse her. My future husband on the other hand…
“Is it true that he likes plucking out eyeballs and pulling teeth while his victims are still alive? And, that he skins men who have wronged them?”
“Who told you about this?”
“I overheard Manfredi and the other guards talking.”
The look Nico gives my bodyguard is one of utter contempt as he wraps an arm around my shoulders.
Grateful he’s allowing this closeness, I snuggle against him, taking comfort in his familiar scent and wishing the car ride might never end.
“He’s more brutal than most, but he is his father’s Enforcer.
There is no room for mercy or weakness in such a position.
Your heart places us on a pedestal, but my Curious Cat is a smart girl.
You must know that Dante and I are not so different from Alessio. ”
“Don’t compare yourselves to the Reaper. He’s a monster.”
“So are we. Alessio has younger half-sisters and a much younger half-brother. I have never met them, but I haven’t heard of Alessio mistreating them. We are monsters but even monsters might not bring their savagery home with them.”
“But I won’t be the little sister he loves. I’ll be his wife whose brother he hates. He’ll use me to… He’ll mistreat me. One way or another. He’ll never love me.” My chin trembles, thinking of the misery that awaits me.
“Cat, don’t.” His tone is harsh, but I recognize the pain behind it. Nico blames himself for my fate and, in my darkest moments, I blame him, too. But it was my father who had made the agreement with De Luca even before the originally intended groom was killed.
With a shuddering breath, I resolve not to cry, and the tears remain clinging on my eyelashes. “Is it true about the wedding night and the sheets?” I whisper, hoping Manfredi will not wake up to hear my girlish fears.
“Who told you of that? Not the guards,” Nico says, his voice tinged with amusement now.
“Girls at school.” I attend an all-girls, Catholic school where many of the girls come from families like mine, but that doesn’t mean we live in a vacuum.
“You should ask our mother about such things.”
“Mother tells me nothing except to stand up straight, fix my hair and mind my tongue. I’m asking you.”
For a long while, his gray eyes study mine before he answers.
“The Sicilians hold to their bloody sheets, but it won’t be the spectacle you might imagine in Vegas.
There, it is only the bride and groom’s fathers who view the sheets the morning after the wedding to confirm consummation.
” I start rocking in my seat with embarrassment for my future self, picturing my father and his inspecting the proof of my lost virginity. “It’s tradition, Cat.”
“I hate our traditions! Our traditions should’ve died out centuries ago!”
Manfredi snorts in his sleep so Nico gestures for me to lower my voice. “But, they have not. Do you know why?”
“To keep all of us girls virgins until our wedding night,” I grumble.
“Yes, to show you are an honorable Italian girl but, for your groom, it is a test as well.”
“A test of what?”
“His resolve to claim what is his without hesitation, to prove his pitiless nature even when it comes to his virgin bride.”
“By raping her?”
“You know our men would never consider a man bedding his wife as such.”
I seethe with anger and shudder with fear. How can this world be so harsh? Can a girl ever hope to escape it? But running away would be far more foolish than cutting my hair. Without resources or money, I’d be caught and all that would amount to is my family being shamed and me being punished.
I ask another question rather than dwelling on that depressing scenario. “And the Seconda Notte? Is that real?” Nico’s jaw clenches, and he pulls away. “Will you do that to your wife?” I pry, tugging at his arm until he’s forced to look back at me.
When our eyes meet again, my brother’s not wearing his mask for me like usual.
I see nothing in those empty gray eyes but a cold-blooded killer.
“I will give my wife my protection, every comfort money can buy and children she will hopefully love. But my black heart and damned soul belong to the Trio and always will. She may hate me as she pleases, but she will accept the ways of our world as we all must.”
If my father said such words to me, I would remain silent but, with Nico, I am bolder. “So, you are telling me I must accept my husband’s infidelity as my duty?”
“You won’t marry for two years, and two years is a very long time for this peace and your betrothal to last, Caterina,” is his enigmatic reply.