Chapter 25 Sera #2
He's Adrian's second. His enforcer. His consigliere. Different than Leo but incredibly important. He moves in response to Adrian, not taking his eyes off the two men across the table.
Until my son is born, Luc is the spare to the heir, and he knows it.
The transformation is stunning. And slightly terrifying.
I notice how Antonio barely looks at me. He's polite, deferential even, but I'm not the focus. I'm just the wife. The future mother of the heir. Important for what I represent, not who I am.
It should bother me more than it does.
Instead, I see why Bianca called me the eyes. No one pays attention to the wife, which means I can see everything.
"Seraphina." Antonio's voice pulls me from my thoughts. "Adrian tells me you work in rare book restoration."
"I did. I do." I stumble over the tense. "It's my passion."
"A beautiful trade. The preservation of history is important." He takes a sip of wine. "My late wife collected first editions. She was a bibliophile." He smiles, and I can see he's still grief-stricken, and it warms me to him, slightly. "Would you be interested in viewing them?"
"I'd like that." It's the most genuine thing I've said all night. "Are you looking for some restoration work?"
Antonio begins to respond, but he's cut off by his nephew.
"Careful, Antonio. She might steal them."
The table goes silent.
"Excuse me?" I turn to him.
Saint is a mystery—well, in his own mind. I could see right through him. All night, he squirmed in irritation, toeing the line of propriety when the conversation strayed to him, but I could tell it was misdirection.
He didn't want to be here, and he is going to make sure that everyone knows it.
And it appears I'm now his target.
"I heard Adrian here needed to marry you because he couldn't wrap it up." His smile doesn't reach his eyes. "Though I suppose Adrian at least got a pretty little wife out of the deal. Could be worse."
Adrian's fork clatters against his plate. "Shut the fuck up, Saint."
"Adrian." Bianca's voice is sharp, a warning.
But Saint just laughs, clearly not caring. "Touchy. I was giving a compliment." His eyes roam over me, likely to make me uncomfortable. I fix a bored expression on my face. "She is very lovely. I see why you slipped up."
Adrian is pulled taut, and I know he's going to snap at any moment.
Luc does too. "I suggest you not disrespect my sister-in-law."
"Oh?" There's a challenge in Saint's eyes.
"Boys." Antonio sets down his glass. "Let's keep this civil, shall we?"
Saint huffs, but he sits back in his seat and says nothing.
The tension is thick enough to cut. I can feel Adrian vibrating with barely restrained violence beside me. Luc's expression is cold, calculating.
And Saint is smiling because they'd all given him what he wanted—a reaction.
I clear my throat. "Thank you for the compliment, Santino. I appreciate how protective you are of your uncle, but I can assure you, you have nothing I need to steal."
Saint's eyebrows raise. Impressed. I suspect most women fall at his feet or slap his face. Men like him enjoy the attention. They don't know what to do when no one cares.
I turn to Antonio. "If you have any restorative needs, I'm sure that Adrian would be happy to accompany me to see your collection."
Adrian's hand finds my thigh under the table. Squeezes. Approval or warning, I'm not sure.
Antonio smiles. "That would be wonderful."
The tension is still thick in the air, but Saint, at least, is silent.
"Well then." Antonio raises his glass. "To new alliances. And to keeping things civil."
We toast.
But I can feel Saint watching me for the rest of the meal.
Dessert is served, and that's when the real conversation begins.
"We should discuss the engagement," Bianca says.
I freeze. Engagement?
Gemma's fork stills on her plate. I don't think she's spoken a single word during the entire meal. In fact, I'd never seen someone look so miserable.
I missed it at first, but now, as I watch pain flash across Gemma's face, I feel a sick feeling in my stomach.
"Yes." Antonio nods. "I believe the terms are acceptable to both families?"
"Very acceptable," Bianca agrees. "Gemma and Santino will be engaged within the month. Wedding to follow within the year."
My eyes snap to Gemma. She's staring at her plate, jaw tight, hands clenched in her lap.
She knew this was coming but knowing and accepting are different things.
"Engaged." Saint's voice is flat. "To someone I've met twice. How romantic."
"Three times," Gemma corrects. Her voice is ice. "You've forgotten the charity gala last year. Though I'm not surprised. You spent the entire evening hitting on the bartender."
"And she was delicious, if I recall."
"Lovely," Gemma says, her voice snide.
"Yes, I forgot who you are. Little princess in her ivory tower, pretending she's better than the rest of us."
Gemma's face flushes. "It's not difficult to be better than you."
"Gemma." Bianca's tone is warning.
But Gemma's not done. "You're a thug in an expensive suit. You think tattoos and leather make you interesting. But you're just another violent criminal playing at being civilized."
"And you're just another spoiled rich girl playing at being educated." Saint leans forward. "Tell me, princess, what's your degree going to do for you when I knock you up. You're nothing more than a uterus with legs."
Gemma freezes.
Adrian stands. So does Luc.
"That's enough," Adrian says, his voice deadly quiet.
"Agreed." Antonio stands as well. "Santino, apologize."
"For what? Telling the truth?" He glowers. "We all know what this is. You want an heir, and her mother wants shipping routes. I just hope her ass doesn't get any fatter."
I gasp. Gemma looks like she's going to vomit.
Adrian moves for the gun at his waist. I dig my nails into his thigh, stopping him.
"For being disrespectful to your future wife." Antonio's voice hardens. "Now."
Saint's jaw works. Then he turns to Gemma. "My apologies, Gemma. That was uncalled for."
It's not genuine. Everyone knows it. But it satisfies the forms.
"Sit," Bianca orders Adrian and Luc.
They sit. Slowly. Reluctantly. Adrian's hand is on his gun. It's visible now, and Saint rolls his eyes.
I'm gripping my napkin so hard my knuckles are white.
This is insane. They're arranging a marriage between two people who clearly hate each other. And everyone's just accepting it.
Like this is normal.
Like this is how things work.
"The engagement will be announced at the charity gala next month," Bianca continues as if nothing happened. "Wedding in the spring. April, perhaps. The gardens will be lovely then."
"Lovely," Gemma echoes. Her voice is hollow.
I look at Adrian. At the way he's watching Gemma with something like sympathy but no intention of intervening.
I look at Luc, who's pouring more wine like this is just another business dinner.
I look at Bianca, who's discussing flowers and venues like she's planning a normal wedding.
And I realize: this is my future.
This is the world my children will grow up in. Where marriages are arranged. Where people are pawns in power games. Where violence simmers under every polite conversation.
I watch Gemma's face as her future is decided without her input.
And I see myself.
A pawn on the board.
But then I look at Bianca. At the woman who controls this entire dinner with a word. Who arranged this marriage. Who runs the Nero family despite being a woman in a world of men.
Bianca was forced into this family too. She told me as much during our tea.
She started as a pawn.
And now she's the queen.
The dinner ends shortly after. The Marinis leave with promises to finalize details. Gemma excuses herself immediately, disappearing upstairs.
And I stand in the foyer, watching it all, my mind racing.
"That went well," Luc says dryly.
"Saint's a problem," Adrian responds. "He's going to make this difficult."
"He always does." Bianca adjusts her pearls. "But he'll fall in line. Antonio will make sure of it."
"And Gemma?" I hear myself ask. "Does anyone care that she's miserable?"
All three of them turn to look at me.
"She'll adjust," Bianca says. Not unkindly, but bluntly. "Like you did. Like I did. This is how our world works, Seraphina."
"It's wrong."
"Perhaps." Bianca's smile is sad. "But it's necessary. Alliances keep us safe. Keep our families strong. Personal happiness is a luxury we can't always afford."
"And if she refuses?"
"She won't." Adrian's voice is certain. "She knows what's at stake."
I look at him. At the man I married. The man who forced me into this life.
The man who's telling me that love of family means sacrificing yourself.
But as I watch him, something crystallizes in my mind.
We're all pieces on a board. Gemma. Me. Even Adrian, in his way.
But some pieces have more power than others.
"I need to lie down," I say quietly. "The baby—I'm tired."
"Of course." Adrian touches my elbow. "I'll walk you up."
"I can manage."
"Seraphina—"
"I said I can manage." I pull away. "Thank you for dinner, Bianca. It was enlightening."
I walk away before anyone can stop me.
Up the stairs. Down the hallway. Into our bedroom.
I close the door and lean against it, breathing hard.
My hand finds my stomach—still flat, still showing no sign of the life growing inside.
But he's there. My son. Adrian's heir.
Another pawn in training.
The door opens behind me.
Adrian. Of course he didn't listen. I'm not shocked.
"Are you alright?" he asks.
"No." I don't turn around. "But I don't think that matters, does it?"
"Of course it matters."
"Does it?" I finally face him. "You promised me three hours today. I got forty minutes. Because what you want, what your mother wants, what the family needs—it all comes first. Always. And I'm supposed to be grateful for one day a week. One day, Adrian."
"I'm sorry—"
"Stop apologizing!" The words burst out of me. "Stop saying you're sorry and then doing the same thing over and over."
"What do you want me to say?"