Chapter Thirty-Three
Chiara
Lucas had insisted on driving me back to the villa and there was nothing I could do to deter him. The air is tense as he drives, jaw grinding and hands clasped so tightly around the steering wheel, his knuckles turned white.
“You’re not seeing him alone,” he grinds out again. “End of discussion.”
I let out an annoyed huff, but I don’t reply this time.
Arguing over this is pointless, and I don’t have the energy.
When we arrive at the villa, Lorenzo is already waiting, leaning against his car in the driveway.
His eyes narrow in disapproval when he sees Lucas stepping out of the car and rounding it to open my door.
I walk into the villa toward Father’s office, head held high and spine straight, not waiting to see if they are following me.
I’m too wrung out to care. Once inside, I step to the windows and turn around.
I don’t offer refreshments. “What matter is so urgent that it couldn’t wait? ” I ask without preamble.
Lorenzo’s eyes dart toward Lucas who is levelly staring back at him, and for a moment there is a silent stand-off between them.
Lucas breaks the silence first. “Chiara’s not talking to you alone, take it or leave it.”
Lorenzo looks like he wants to protest, but then he shrugs and turns to me, stepping closer. “Miss Bianchi,” he begins, “there is a matter of some urgency concerning your late mother’s arrangements.”
I frown, taken aback. “My mother? What are you talking about?”
“Before she passed”—his eyes gleam—“she and I made a deal some time ago. I’ve got it written, signed, witnessed and legally binding. She arranged for you to marry me.”
The room tilts and I clutch the edge of the table. Lucas steps next to me to pull my side flush to his and I am grateful for the support preventing me from falling to my knees.
“Wh-what? That…that can’t be. I’ve never heard of this, she never—”
“No fucking way,” comes Lucas’ snarl from beside me.
Lorenzo takes a step forward and it feels like a threat. “You are to be my wife,” he insists, ignoring Lucas entirely. “The arrangement is written and valid. And you know what breaking such an arrangement between two families entails…”
I shake my head, too numb to understand what is happening.
“If you refuse, it will be considered a breach in the contract and a personal insult. It means war, Miss Bianchi… Chiara.”
I want to scream at the way he says my name.
I dimly hear Lucas roar something, but I can’t make out the words drowned out by the whooshing of my pulse in my ears.
I am to marry a stranger…and if I don’t, there will be war.
I’ve heard of wars tearing rival families apart, ending lives of innocent bystanders.
I think of Lily, of Dante. My chest is constricting around my lungs to the point of rendering me lightheaded.
“You understand why this matter can’t wait any longer,” Lorenzo goes on. “I’m not a man who waits.”
“Well, then we’ve got a problem it seems,” comes Lucas’ cool reply.
I look up at him, pleading with my eyes not to make matters worse and start a war. I can survive an arranged marriage. After all, I have been groomed to be a Mafia bride all my life. What I won’t survive, however, is causing harm to the people I care about.
But Lucas ignores me, his attention is focused on the other man, his possessiveness impossible to miss as he bands his arm around my waist to plaster me against him.
“You see,” he drawls on, “no one was aware of the deal until today, not Chiara, not me, not the Santaluccia famiglia.” I can hear the threat of the organization hanging in the air.
“The deal is valid,” Lorenzo cuts in. “I’ll send you a copy of the contract signed by late Mrs. Bianchi. It is official, and you better than anyone, know that it is as binding as a blood oath.”
“That might be,” Lucas retorts, “but there is just a little problem.”
“Which problem?” Lorenzo sounds irritated. I follow the exchange with numb detachment, like they are discussing an arms deal and not my life.
“Chiara is already married. To me.”
Before my brain registers his words, his mouth is on mine, staking a claim. When he breaks the kiss, he angles me away from the man, no doubt to hide the shock on my face.
“We have to tell them, sweetheart. I know you wanted to wait for after the mourning period, but we can’t lead the man on, he surely has pressing business in Chicago he needs to go back to.
” He lifts his gaze back to Lorenzo. “You see that the deal is annulled, Chiara married me in good faith, she didn’t know about the arrangement, written or not. ”
“I don’t believe you,” Lorenzo barks.
Lucas shrugs his shoulders. “Believe it or not, get your lawyer to contact mine, he’ll send you a copy of the certificate.” He pulls a business card out of his breast pocket and slides it over the desk toward Lorenzo who takes it with fury written over his face.
“This is not over,” he hisses. “I will contest this, and if there is foul play I’ll burn this whole city to the ground. I’ll have the support of the other families on this, believe me.”
“Contest all you want,” Lucas replies. “Since our marriage is legal and no one was aware of the agreement before today, you won’t have the other families’ support.”
Lorenzo gnashes his teeth, eyes blazing with anger. “Tell Santaluccia he’ll hear from me. Soon.” He whirls around and is gone in a blink. Seconds later, the sound of the front door slamming shut echoes like a gunshot.
I let out the breath I wasn’t aware I was holding.
Lucas’ hand creeps up my back to wrap around my neck in a possessive grip.
I shrug him off and whirl around. “What…what was that?” I demand, fear and fury making my voice crack.
He watches me for a beat, eyes blazing darkly with something I can’t decipher. “That, cara mia”—he takes a step toward me, and I involuntarily retreat a step—“that is me preventing a war.”
I shake my head. “You’re not preventing it, you’re causing it! When he finds out we are not married, what do you think he’ll do?”
He is on me with a stride, crowding me against the desk. “Oh, but we are married, and you will see that there is no other option.”
My mind blanks. “Wh-what do you mean? We-we’re not…”
His fingers weave into my bun to angle my head back, then his lips crash on mine, cruel and imperious. When he pulls his face back, his eyes are blazing. “Let me show you.”
With these cryptic words, he grabs my upper arm and drags me out of the office toward the front door. Outside, he pulls out his phone and dials a number, his other hand still clasped around my arm.
“It’s me. You still got everything? We do it now. And I need it to happen last month.”
He hangs up and nearly tosses me into the passenger seat of his car, then he leans over to fasten my seatbelt.
In less than thirty seconds, we are moving at a breakneck speed toward the center.
Lucas effortlessly weaves through traffic, assured and in control, while I hang on the door handle, trying not to be jostled around.
When he finally slows, I instantly recognize the buildings, and my stomach drops to my feet—we are heading to the district court hall.
Lucas maneuvers the car into a side street toward a private entrance, and I am baffled to see the barrier lift and the metal gate open despite the “No access for unauthorized vehicles” sign.
Once the car is parked and he has pulled me out, he drags me after him toward the elevator and pushes a button. We ride in silence, him intense and focused, me a mental and emotional mess.
When we step out of the elevator, a receptionist greets us with a professional smile.
“Good morning, Mr. Romano, Judge Calloway is expecting you in his office.”
Lucas nods and drags me after him along the hallway, clearly knowing the way. He all but shoves me through a door left ajar, and I find myself in a large office with dark wooden furniture and large windows overlooking the harbor.
“Romano, what a pleasure,” a voice drawls from my left and I whirl around to take in the man standing casually by a row of floor to ceiling bookshelves. He looks to be the same age as Lucas. His suit is impeccably tailored and compliments his tall frame.
“Calloway,” Lucas replies curtly behind me, and he steps forward to shake hands with the man.
The man’s eyes wander to me and the smile he gives me is warm and genuine. “You must be Chiara?”
I nod dumbly.
“It’s a pleasure finally meeting you, I’ve heard so many things about you.”
“What?” I turn to Lucas with a confused frown. I don’t know this man, how can he have heard about me?
“Shut up, Call.” Lucas growls and the other man just smirks while he extends a hand to me.
I shake it, mind spinning.
“I’m Dominic Calloway, you can call me anything and anytime, sweetheart.” He winks at me with a flirty grin and Lucas goes off like a bomb.
“Shut it, asshole, or I’ll make you eat your fucking teeth for lunch.”
Judge Calloway, because that’s him I surmised, just laughs, unfazed by the outburst.
“Forgive me,” he tells me with a crooked smile that makes him look like he’s just out of college. “I’m not usually this callous, but Romano has never been this…cranky before, especially over a woman, and I couldn’t resist poking him a bit.”
I give him a faint smile despite myself. He seems nice in an eccentric way, even though inside I wonder which one of them is the most unbalanced. What I can see, though, is that they seem close like longtime friends.
Lucas grabs my arm again and unceremoniously drags me toward the large oak desk. “Is everything ready?” he snaps.
“All set,” Judge Calloway replies. “Let me call in the witnesses and we can start.” He stalks out of the office.
I freeze. Witnesses… No… No!
My breath catches in my throat when realization finally hits my numb brain like a freight train. “Lucas,” I whisper in a strangled voice, not really knowing what I want to say. All I know is that I want to run far away from all this, to live a life that is not this one.
“Shh, cara mia,” comes his low reply as his knuckles brush over my cheek. “Let me take care of this. I’ll take care of you, I won’t let anything happen to you.”
I’m about to protest when he cuts in, calculating and pressing. “Do this and we avoid a war. Think about Lily and Dante. Do you want your nephew growing up knowing that his aunt started a war that has cost the famiglia hundreds of innocent lives?”
My heart thunders in my chest and I am speechless.
“See it as our duty, if it makes it easier.” His voice cuts through my haze, cold and cruel.
Duty. War. Lily. Dante. The words whirl in my mind until my head spins. But he is right, I don’t want a war where the people I love could get hurt.
Damn him. I let out a defeated sob.
Ten minutes later, I scrawl my signature next to his on a sheet of paper I can barely see through the blur of tears, getting married in my mourning dress, the day of my father’s funeral.