3. Dante
3
DANTE
W e had signed the contract for marriage with a lot of cheers and congratulations from our fathers. Ilaria drinking her wine as she looked like she was going through all the stages of grief in her like a sad movie in her eyes.
My father was giving me the silent warning eyes to do what I was supposed to.
He wanted me to walk her around the neighborhood, maybe down to the waterfront or to the square and give her the big diamond he said she deserved and that he had picked out with my mother for her.
But I wasn’t so sure the brat deserved anything but to be cut off the wine she drank like water and put in her place, probably over someone’s knee where she could be spanked into submission.
My father had already given me a look, several looks in fact, that quieted the glare that I had been aiming at her. He was looking at me like I was the one acting irrationally and not that naughty girl.
Ilaria had caught me glaring at her and had played her role as princess so well. Smiling at me and giving me the fluttering eyelash look that I’m sure had boys wrapped around her pretty little finger.
The idea of anyone looking at her already annoyed me. As if they were disrespecting me by noticing her. And I hated that she had that power so soon.
I needed to be on my best behavior. I had signed the contract after all. It was all put in motion already. We would each be told where to meet and what to do. Have dates like it wasn’t a wedding already being planned.
My father had mentioned us living in the North End, which made sense to me.
The mafia princess had been kept outside the city in a gilded cage of a suburb so she wasn’t used to the noise of the community. But she would learn how to deal with it.
At least she was beautiful. Infuriatingly so.
I hadn’t seen her eyes before but they were rimmed in a dusty cloud of gray, soft blue like the sky. They were the type of eyes that gave away every emotion she had. Storms would brew there just like they had been when she called me out on cornering her.
She was right that I shouldn’t have done that and if someone had tried to play that shit with her now I’d cut their tongue out for speaking to her so forcefully.
Ilaria was as good as my wife now and that meant she deserves the respect of that title. I took care of my things which meant that she would be given the same level of command that I held in the world. The only person she needed to listen to was me.
The one person she didn’t want to listen to.
“Ilaria.”
She looked up at me, a soft wine induced smile sent my way despite her eyes looking like they were steel daggers. It was very obvious she thought little of me.
I had grown used to women throwing themselves at me and to have a challenge was a bit exciting.
“Now that circumstances have changed with us. Maybe you can sign my permits. Tomorrow you can be on my arm at the grand opening for the club.” I said, always thinking about business, even at moments like this.
The way she looked at me showed she wasn’t impressed by this at all.
She finished her fourth, maybe fifth glass of wine looking at me like I was insane for suggesting something like that and this time I saw her roll her eyes at me.
Infuriating little princess. No respect and not even pretending to have any for me.She had been spoiled for too long. Overindulged.
Her pink tongue darted out, licking the wine stained red lips and making me want to tase the merlot that had stained them. My eyes locked to her mouth and made me hyper aware of her presence.
There was no way she was driving home tonight.
My eyes looked over at her father for some help in this matter but he wasn’t looking at us, making small talk instead with my father and seeming excited about the joining of our two families.
My father seemed younger in his joy of this endeavor. He was busy planning my life as I tried to live it.
“A summer wedding would be beautiful!” Her father said, ignoring what I said as she turned to him so quickly I thought she was going to break her neck, and I watched the way her eyes widened as she shook her head at this, clutching his arm as she smirked at him.
The way she looked at him had him eating out of the palm of her hands. Ilaria was very good at getting her way and it was obvious that her Papa had done nothing but spoil her. That was just another one of her many bad habits I was going to have to break.
Money wasn’t an issue.
There would always be money but if that little princess thought she was going to spend all day giving me lip and just take from me she had another thing coming. I licked my lips as I thought of her on her knees, having to say ‘please’ as I doled out an allowance.
This girl was a witch. A spell put on me that made me unable to keep my head around her.
“Papa, it’s July tomorrow. A summer wedding? No, there is no time for that. Too much to plan and all the venues are booked out for years. Unless you mean next summer, of course.” There was her smile again, her eyes on him as she tried to get her way.
She patted his arm as she looked around, obviously ready to go and have all this talk put on pause. So dismissive of the wedding talk even though she had signed a contact that she had just agreed to marry me.
But my father was looking at her too.
Good .
Let her sweat a little bit.
“We will pick a date before we leave this table. And you will be married by the end of the year.” My father left no room to be argued with and I could see another surge of panic across her pretty features. Just a small splash of emotion she hadn’t checked.
The princess was hiding something.
And now was my time to swoop in and get her out of this situation like the good fiancée I was going to play at.
Before I rang her pretty little neck and got her secrets from her.
“Why don’t we go for a walk? It’s a nice night and I can show you the neighborhood.” I was already standing up, sliding my jacket back on that I had removed for dinner and buttoning it up.
If I was good at anything it was leaving a situation I didn’t want to be in.
She looked at me, eyes shifting to the older men who were trying to see what game I was playing at. But I knew men like them and the way I was coming to her rescue was exactly the sort of white knight expectations they had for a man and a woman.
“Surely we can meet you tomorrow for breakfast. We need a night to get to know each other. Ilaria can stay at my place and we can meet for breakfast at 8AM. By then we should have some plans for the wedding and Mama would want to meet my beautiful fiancée. Right?” I offered to them like making plans right away and adding my mother to the mix was the only logical thing to do.
I looked at her but she didn’t trust me and was glaring at me like I had just spit in her face instead of offering her a way out of this.
She had no reason to trust me and so far we had gotten off completely on the wrong foot. But in this situation it was within her best interest to go along with what I wanted. Make it easier on everyone.
Reaching for the sparkling water I watched her pour herself a glass. Sipping deeply as she thought, looking up after a second and giving me the fakest smile she could muster. Her head nods enough that I sigh in relief.
“Is that okay, papa?” Her voice was sweet and I wondered if she practiced that in her bathroom. The perfect tone to manipulate people.
She is looking at him now, modest and soft, playing her part as a good girl. Someone who takes orders without any sass. The perfect Italian daughter who had both our fathers eating out of her hand.
But she may have them fooled but I didn’t buy her act one bit.
“You will keep my daughter’s honor? There will be a sheet ceremony the morning after your marriage.” Her fathers voice is serious now. No more joking about us and the babies we will make; the baby making needs to be done after we’re officially married.
The sheet test was an old Sicilian tradition that I hadn’t expected anyone to still want to commit to. It was barbaric and another way to control women.
The way that her cheeks pinkened had my head turning as I thought about this minx still being a virgin and feeling my cheeks pull back in a smirk for just a quick second before turning back to her father.
“Her honor will be safe with me until she shares my last name.” My words come out easily knowing that it’s up to me now to keep her intact for my family’s honor as well.
He nodded, satisfied at my answer. As my head spins at the idea of Ilaria being a virgin.
And mine .
Now it’s me that feels like I drank too much wine.
My eyes flicker to my bride-to-be, watching her have anther glass of sparkling water as I move to where she is seated, after shaking her fathers hand.
We would play this game, a gentleman treating her with respect when I really wanted to ring her neck.
I would get her secrets tonight and she would sign the papers for my club. We would manipulate each other which must have been one of the worst ways to start a marriage.
But what choice did she leave me?
Pulling out her chair I offer her my hand, surprised she stands up so easily and isn’t wobbling on her heels. She lets me guide her as we say our goodbyes. Exchanging kisses and promises of an early breakfast with them.
Ilaria is playing the part well enough that for a moment I think marrying her may be an advantage.
The way my father is eating out of her hand when he barely likes anyone and hasn’t smiled this much in years, surprises me. Even the staff of the restaurant comes over to congratulate her and for a moment I am forgetting how she drove me insane earlier and just appreciating her.
She is the type of woman that is an asset to have on your arm and here she is reaching for mine. Slipping her hand through my arm, I’m surprised when she steps closer to me, silently conveying it’s time to leave and making me lead her from the restaurant.
The streets are brick and cobblestone in this section so she keeps her arm linked with mine, leaning against me as I walk with her. Both of us quiet as our feet carry us away from our fathers and somewhere away from the summer crowds that are basking in the beauty of the North End. Taking in the dining al fresco, the shops they are planning to visit tomorrow, and walking around small streets as they oh and ah about different landmarks.
It’s easy to forget how beautiful the neighborhood is. I have taken advantage of it from years of living here.
I grew up with people knowing who my father was and a group of people raising me, looking out for me. I played basketball on the Prince Street courts and did youth hockey at the rink by the water.
This neighborhood was a tiny blip in the city but it had been my whole life, my world. Even now I still live here.
I would probably die here too.
Crossing the street I motion to a little cafe, stepping inside as a young girl looks up at me from her phone. She’s a teenager, Rosa Fiore’s granddaughter who is staying with her for the summer.
I’m surprised when Ilaria pulls away from me, walking closer to the girl and smiling at her, trying to pull the teenager under whatever spell she had on people. But the girl looks at me like she was warned about who I am and therefore places the girl I’m with under the same sort of warning label.
“Can I please get an iced coffee and a cafe latte? Do you just want an espresso, Dante?” She says my name correctly this time and I’m surprised she knows what I want but I nod, reaching into my pocket to pull out cash but she’s tapping her phone against the register and I realize she paid for the coffee before I could and for some reason that infuriates me more.
I’m not going to chastise her in public. If I have something to say to her I’ll wait until it’s just the two of us. But the idea of a woman paying for me unsettles me and it’s a sign of disrespect but again I can’t think of a time in my life where anyone paid for me before.
She walks beside me as we cross the street, headed towards the harbor walk, which is close to where I live.
Ilaria shivers, it’s cool with the dark night and the wind off the Atlantic. Even as she sips her warm coffee and I notice that she had already sucked up her iced coffee.
Who even orders that much caffeine at one time?
She huddles within herself I can see the way her flesh turns to small pebbled bumps that I want to reach out and stroke to smooth over.
Shrugging off my jacket I step closer to her, wrapping it around her shoulders. Feeling her tense as we pause in front of a bench.
I guess this is as good as any time.
Reaching into the pocket I pull out the velvet box, flipping it open so she can see the ring inside. A big diamond with a halo band of smaller diamond stones.
It’s a statement to wear a ring like this and I need her to be a statement to the outside world
Her eyes widen as she looks at me as if she’s just realizing now we’re getting married.
“You should put it on.” I tug it out watching her hold her hands by her side, not making this any easier on me and just making me more annoyed with her, “Give me your hand so I can put your engagement ring on.” I command her softly but she shakes her head, that worried look on her face again, “And why not?” I ask.
“Because I can’t wear an engagement ring from you. Not…not when I have a boyfriend.”
I blink once, twice, three times as I try to make sense of what she is saying to me and yet it all sounds like the garble of the Charlie Brown school teacher.
Did she just say boyfriend ?
My eyes are on her as if she is going to have the correct answer to have this make sense because right now all I can see is fury. The jealousy washing over me and making me confused by the possessiveness she brings out in me.
It’s not good for me to lose my cool but here I am smoldering from the information that my fiancée is seeing someone else.
Ilaria opens her mouth, an explanation starting to flow from her lips as her voice starts to show off that she is scared about telling me this.
“I’ve been seeing him for four months and things are getting more serious. We have been-”
“The only we is you and me, princess.”
I’m seeing red and trying to stay cool as I look at her.
She is going to get the worst of me tonight and it’s like we both are realizing I shouldn’t have been given any knowledge or this because this shouldn’t be happening right now.
Ilaria had to have known that her father was planning a marriage contract so the fact that she had someone she was dating while our fathers were planning made me even more upset.
It’s disrespectful.
“Did you fuck him?” her mouth opens in fear as if she can see my anger instead of just feeling it in the words. She’s an easy read though and the answer is no.
Good .
Usually, I’d call my cousin in the situation but something has me feeling feral about my bride-to-be. Maybe it’s the honor bound traditions that my family holds us all too. Maybe it’s just the beautiful woman with a smart mouth.
“C’mon, let’s go.” I’m grabbing her as I head to the garage across the street she parked in.
“Where are we going?” Her voice is so soft and I need to calm myself down because I might be scaring her and I don’t want her to fear me or think I’ll be violent towards her.
Her boyfriend is going to fear me but she will never have to.
Anger and violence twisting in a sort of slow dance around my mind as jealousy starts to melt in. It’s new and unpleasant. We may have just met but Ilaria is my fiancée and will be connected to me. She is not for another man.
Not now, not ever.
“To break up with your boyfriend.”