Chapter 21 #2
“I said no. Lucy and I will announce our relationship when and how we choose. Lucy will attend Ariana’s wedding if they both wish it, and we will marry when we’re ready, in whatever ceremony we want.
” He leans forward slightly. “You seem to have forgotten something, Mom. This is my house now. My money. My family. You live in that mansion at my pleasure. If you won’t treat Lucy with respect, you can get out. ”
Mom’s mouth opens and closes, speechless with rage.
“Furthermore,” Damiano continues, his voice deadly calm, “I know what Andreas tried to do to Lucy. I know you and Dad saw it and did nothing. You told her to apologize to him. You were going to hand her over to a rapist and a traitor.” His eyes are cold.
“So before you lecture us about disgrace and family honor, remember that Lucy saved this family. She’s smarter and braver than you ever gave her credit for. ”
Mom looks like she’s been slapped. “How dare you—”
Ariana’s exasperated voice cuts across her. “Mom, it’s too late. Can’t you see that the angrier you get, the more they enjoy it? Leave them be, for heaven’s sake.”
Mom grasps her handbag and heads for the door, her face lined from anger and grief.
The beautiful mother I’ve known for so much of my life is becoming a bitter and vindictive old woman.
“Ariana, come. We’ve fallen far behind on planning your wedding.
” She opens the door to the office and strides out of the room.
Our sister wears a resigned expression as she gets to her feet.
Overcome with curiosity, I call after her, “Ariana, why are you still going ahead with this marriage when you don’t have to?”
Ariana pauses by the door. “Who says I don’t have to?”
“I’ll say it if you like,” Damiano tells her. “You don’t have to marry Don Cristiano.”
“Wow, thanks, Damiano. You’ve fixed everything,” she says flatly. “Neither of you have any idea what’s been happening outside your own drama, do you? You didn’t notice who wasn’t at Lucy’s wedding. You didn’t spot who was missing from Dad’s funeral.”
Damiano and I exchange glances, but neither of us have any idea what she’s talking about. Both events had several hundred guests, so I’m not sure I could pick out if a particular one was missing, unless it was immediate family. “Who was missing?”
But Ariana shakes her head. “It’s too late for me. Dad saw to that before he died. He had enough time to ruin my life or change his will, but not both, I guess. I hope you’re both happy though.”
I hear genuine good wishes in her voice, as well as bitterness. She turns and walks out of the room.
“Who is she talking about?” Damiano asks.
I think for a moment. “I remember at the bridal shop, she said something about having her own life. A secret life. She was angry that I’d taken away her time before she had to marry.
” I frown, trying to remember her exact words.
“She said keeping the peace was a full-time job, and when Mom and Dad were angry, they watched her more closely. She wanted a few more years to herself before doing her duty.”
“So there is someone she cares about.”
“Someone Dad found out about,” I add. “And did something about before he died.”
We sit in silence for a moment, both of us feeling guilty. We were so wrapped up in our own drama that we didn’t see what Ariana was going through.
“I wish there was something we could do,” I say quietly.
“We can’t do anything if she won’t confide in us,” Damiano points out, and then calls Mr. Rosso back.
When Mr. Rosso is once more seated behind his desk, Damiano reaches for my hand and holds it. “Do you have a moment to speak with us, Mr. Rosso?”
The lawyer looks surprised that his wealthiest and most important client is bothering to request such a thing. “Of course, Mr. Barone. I have as much time as you need. Please tell me how I may be of service.”
Damiano caresses my knuckles, looking darkly dangerous all dressed in black, and gazing at the man from beneath his brows. “I want you to reverse Lucy’s adoption into the Barone family, or emancipate her, or do whatever legal hoop-jumping is necessary.”
“Necessary for what, sir?”
Damiano raises his eyebrows. “For me to marry Lucy, of course.”
The lawyer opens and closes his mouth several times, but before he can speak, Damiano says, “I’m not finished. I want Lucy’s name to be added to the deed for the family home. I want my bank account to be held jointly by Lucy.”
I look sharply at Damiano. I’ve told him many times that I wish to be his equal, but all I meant was that I didn’t want him to treat me like a silly, scared girl or a smiling idiot who had to wait at home while he got to be the great Don Damiano.
I never imagined he’d give half of everything he owns to me.
The lawyer frowns. “I’m sorry, Mr. Barone. I don’t understand.”
“What is it you don’t understand? It’s typical for a married couple to combine and share their assets.”
“But Don Carlucci never…” He trails off as Damiano’s eyes flash in warning. “Yes, sir. Of course, sir. I will make those arrangements for you, but the matter of marrying your sister, I’m afraid that this is impossible. My hands are tied by the letter of the law.”
“Lucy is not my sister.”
Mr. Rosso looks back and forth between us, clearly trying to find a tactful way of telling Don Damiano that just because he wishes something, doesn’t make it true.
“I’m truly not Damiano’s sister, Mr. Rosso,” I say, and explain about meeting Damiano the day his father and sister were killed, and that my name before I was adopted was Lucy Cinders.
Mr. Rosso straightens his glasses. “I see. In that case, Miss Cinders, I’ll need to locate your original birth certificate.”
Damiano’s jaw flexes. “Lucy is a Barone. Address her as such.”
“Of course, Mr. Barone. Perhaps I may also draft a prenuptial agreement?” he asks hopefully.
Damiano’s face grows stormy with anger. “No, you may not, and don’t you dare insult my future wife ever again. Now, get out. I want a private moment with Lucy.”
The lawyer scurries out of the room as though it’s not his office but Damiano’s.
I picture pulling into the driveway of the Barone family home, and for the first time in my life, the facade no longer seems cold, forbidding, and unwelcoming. It will no longer be a house that I can be shamefully cast out of if my secret comes out. It will be my home. Mine and Damiano’s.
“We can eat pizza for dinner in front of the TV on a Saturday night,” I whisper.
Damiano smiles. “What did you say, my love?”
I turn to Damiano and seize his hands. “We can wear jeans to dinner. Sit on the kitchen counters. Dance to loud music in the living room. No one’s going to tell us what to do anymore.”
It feels like an enormous weight has been lifted off my shoulders.
Damiano lifts my hand to his lips and kisses it. “I want you to be my equal from now on. You will never have to ask me for money, and I will never keep you in the dark or force you into ignorance.”
“Partners,” I say softly. “In everything.”
“In everything,” he agrees.
I pretend to think about this for a moment. “That sounds wonderful. But you’re still forgetting something.”
His brows draw together in consternation. “What is it? Tell me and it’s yours.”
“You still haven’t asked me to marry you.”
Damiano’s face relaxes into a smile. “That’s true, I haven’t.” He studies me for a moment. “I suppose you’ll have to become Lucy Cinders for a while, but I’ll be impatient to give you back my name. Our name. Will you…”
“Will I what?” I prompt impatiently, my heart doing a joyful skip.
This is it.
This is the moment I’ve been waiting so long for.
The man I love is finally going to ask me to marry him.
Damiano takes my chin in his thumb and forefinger, and murmurs, “Lucy. My love. Will you plot and scheme with me forever?”
I burst out laughing.
“I’m serious, Lucy. Will you be my better half? The brains and the beauty. The heart and the soul of us. Plot and scheme with me. Love me. Marry me.”
I rub the tip of my nose against his, remembering how handsome he was the first day I saw him. How I couldn’t help but crave to be his even then. “From the first moment I laid eyes on you, Damiano, I saw only you. Loved only you. But you’ve got one thing wrong.”
“What’s that, my love?”
“I’m the brains. You’re the beauty.”
He kisses me, his warm lips moving over mine.
“I doubt that, my love. You are most certainly the brains, but I happen to think you’re the beauty as well.
I’m impatient to tell the whole world that you’re mine, so let’s go buy you the most beautiful engagement ring in all of Malus. One that you choose.”
I think of the bland, careless ring Andreas gave me. The one I threw at his corpse. This time, I’ll choose my own ring. With the man I love.
“The perfect ring for me,” I agree, smiling. “I’ll be so proud to wear it.”