Chapter 8 #2
The truth was, I had given it a lot of thought.
Although becoming my father’s right hand was my main goal for years, I had other dreams that I never shared with anyone.
Dreams I kept locked away in my heart because I couldn’t appear soft in front of the others.
As the only female member of the Romano inner circle, I wasn’t going to jeopardize my position by talking marriage and babies.
Besides, there hadn’t really been anyone to bare my heart to about all that anyway.
Maybe my mother, but she had never been particularly maternal, and I’d never been able to form genuine friendships.
As surrounded as I was by family and our loyal associates, life in the mafia could be lonely at times.
No long-term lovers, no friends. And yet, I’d still dreamed of finding a worthy man I could have children with eventually.
As an only child, I’d wanted more than one. Three or four kids sounded ideal.
I had always imagined that I’d amass so much power that we’d become untouchable, giving my children a life where they’d never have to look over their shoulders.
Never have wants or worries about anything.
Nothing would get to them. Not danger, not our enemies, not the police.
Currently, my family could do anything, but we lived in the shadows.
We watched what we said, vetted anyone new who came into our orbit, shredded and burned every bit of evidence against us, forged documents to make us seem legit, and were notoriously suspicious of outsiders.
In other words, we were paranoid. I didn’t want my children to live in a shadow like I did.
I wanted them to stand tall and proud in the light.
I could take our criminal underworld and make every last business seem so legitimate and above board, that we’d fit right in with all the other elites on the East Coast. There’d be no secrets to keep anymore and no lies to tell.
With the right man, I’d make my children invincible.
And my husband and I would be permanently untouchable.
But all that seemed to be crumbling, because how could I have children with a man I didn’t love?
That was the reason I’d reacted so badly when Enzo brought up the subject of children last night.
It had been a reminder that instead of the happy family I created, I’d be trapped with a man I loathed.
I’d be trapping my children into an unhappy marriage, making their lives miserable before I ever got the chance to give them something beautiful.
And misery was the best-case scenario. Because if I couldn’t bring myself to marry Enzo, how could I have children with him? Creating a family with this man sounded worse than betrayal. Worse than death.
I blinked my tears away. I couldn’t afford to cry in front of this man.
Enzo shrugged, as if that was answer enough to a question of such importance.
“Sure, I guess I’ve thought about kids a couple of times.
It’s a man’s duty after all, and I’d have make future De Lucas at some point.
But that was always far in the future. I’ve been climbing the ladder. Too busy making money.”
“And screwing every girl in town I’d bet,” I said.
For some reason I was irritated that children didn’t seem to be a significant subject to him.
To Enzo, they seemed to be just another duty.
Another obligation. And worst of all, a passing thought.
A wife and children had not been the kinds of things he had envisioned.
I supposed the mafia life was enough for him.
Not that I blamed him, it was almost enough for me.
There was nothing compared to the thrill of the life that my father had gifted me.
The money, the power. Every door was open to me.
Some of the most powerful people in New York City answered to my family.
We’d made enough deals and secured enough blackmail evidence to keep New York’s rich and powerful in line.
We could even get the police to turn a blind eye when we played our cards right.
People rarely denied me. I hadn’t been exaggerating when I’d told Enzo that I got what I wanted.
In the end, I won. Yet now, for the first time in a long time, I didn’t feel that there was anything solid beneath my feet.
My certainty at my own victory was on shaky ground.
Without my father’s confidence in me and my own independence, who was I?
Just another mafia wife, standing around like a husband’s prized trophy.
“For a woman who swears she isn’t jealous, you seem pretty interested in my sex life,” Enzo said suddenly, dragging me from my gloomy thoughts.
“It’s not interest,” I said breezily. “Merely an observation of the kind of man I’m apparently expected to marry.”
“Since we’re on the topic of expectations... Do you expect me to believe that you’re a virgin, Valentina?” he suddenly asked with a wicked glint in his eye that I did not appreciate.
“No, I don’t expect you to believe something that absurd,” I said sharply. “What would give you that idea anyway?”
“Well, you were horrified by the thought of having sex with me and you don’t seem to like the idea of me having sex with anyone else,” he said. “Sounded to me like you wanted to come across like a good Catholic girl. No sex before marriage. That kind of thing.”
“It’s not that,” I said. “I simply can’t afford to come across as undisciplined, for lack of a better word. You can run around with a new woman every week, so can my cousins—”
“Right, you’re the only girl in the family with any power,” he said. “One wrong move and they’ll use any excuse to shove you out.”
My lips thinned. “Exactly. I have to be discreet. Can you believe the insane hypocrisy? I can flout the laws, but I can’t sleep with too many guys. It’s ridiculous.”
“So you’ve probably slept with a lot of men,” he said, amusement in his tone as he emphasized those last three words.
I looked at him sharply. “I’ve had my share of lovers. So what?”
“Makes no difference to me,” Enzo said quickly, sounding a little too smooth and slick to my ears.
“Maybe you’re the jealous one, Enzo,” I said.
He let out a humorless laugh. “I’m not a completely regressive asshole. I’d be an understanding husband. We both have pasts—nothing to be ashamed of.”
“Well, we won’t be getting married so none of that matters,” I said, sliding my handbag across my shoulder. If I made my exit now, he’d have to deal with my refusal. I’d made my decision final, forcing him to have to consider going along with it. At least, I hoped that was where this led.
“I assure you, Valentina, that we will be getting married,” Enzo said, looking me directly in the eye, as if daring me to contradict him.
“No, we won’t,” I insisted.
Without saying anything else, Enzo turned his back on me and strode over into the open concept kitchen. “Have you had breakfast?”
Oh, I knew what game he was playing. He wanted to set up some domestic scene in order to convince me to marry him.
Well, I wasn’t going to be easily convinced by a handsome face and a free meal.
Still, whatever coffee he had started grinding smelled divine, and I had other tactics to win him to my side.
My bullying might not have worked, but there were other tricks up my sleeve, and I was prepared to use every one of them against him.