Chapter 8
EMILIA
Niccolò's family hadn't arrived on Wednesday, which I was happy about.
The house had remained quiet, almost peaceful in its emptiness.
I managed to avoid him all day. He was busy with the fallout from whatever had happened outside Letty's, his office door closed for hours at a time, voices raised behind the heavy wood.
We hadn't discussed it like he said we would, but I didn't need a wild imagination to figure out what had happened, and I had a lead ball in the pit of my stomach thinking that my father was involved.
The weight of it sat heavily, making it hard to breathe whenever I let myself think about it.
If I were right, this would stay quiet until after our wedding, which was a little over twenty-four hours away. Surely all parties involved would be able to keep their guns in their pants that long. But after, it would be war.
A war with a man who had nothing left to lose.
"My family will be here in five minutes.
" His voice startled me, and I turned to look at Niccolò.
He was dressed in his usual white shirt and black slacks.
His sleeves were rolled up to the middle of his arm, and I caught my first glimpse of the tattoos that covered him.
Intricate designs snaked up his forearms, disappearing under the fabric.
I could make out what looked like a lion, religious imagery, and script in what might have been Italian.
My father had a strict policy that tattoos were not acceptable in the Carminatti organization, so seeing my fiancé's arms covered seemed like it was a little extra dangerous.
Like he was advertising everything my father despised.
"I'm ready." Standing from the window seat that had quickly become my favorite spot in this prison, I smoothed down the emerald green dress I’d bought at Letty’s.
I couldn't help but look up at Niccolò and notice he was smiling.
"What?"
"You're perfect. They’ll love you." He reached for my hand, and I'm pretty sure my heart stopped. His palm was warm, his fingers long and strong as they wrapped around mine. Tomorrow at this time, he'd be my husband.
"I hope so, I am a Carminatti." I sneered, trying to inject some venom into my voice but failing.
"You're hours from being a Venosa, they'll accept you.
" I wished I could believe him, but my last name had always been the deciding factor on whether I was good enough or not.
The name that preceded me into every room, coloring every interaction.
Leaving the safety of my room had been something I'd longed for this week, but now I was wishing to be back there.
Safe behind a locked door where expectations couldn't reach me.
Standing at the bottom of the stairs, I clung to Niccolò's hand as the door was opened and his family walked into his home.
Cold air rushed in with them, along with the sound of laughter and conversation.
"Son." The older woman smiled, and I let go of my death grip, but he never let go of my hand.
His thumb rubbed across my knuckles, soothing.
"Mother, it's wonderful to see you." He smiled warmly and kissed his mother on each cheek. "I'd like to introduce you to my fiancé, Emilia Carminatti." She shifted her eyes from her son to me, her smile never faltering. Her gaze was assessing but not unkind, taking in every detail.
"Emilia, it's a pleasure to meet you finally. My son’s been telling me wonderful things about you.
" She kissed my cheeks, and I felt like I needed to curtsy; she seemed that regal and poised.
Her hair was perfectly coiffed, and her clothes looked like they'd been pressed as she stepped into them.
Everything about her screamed old-world elegance.
"It's very nice to meet you, Mrs. Venosa." My voice sounded meek even to me.
"Please, it's Cecilia, we're family after all." She moved aside, allowing more family members to come through. An aunt and uncle from Texas, more cousins than I had ever seen, and other relatives, all carrying wrapped gifts and genuine smiles.
"Well, fuck me running, I never thought I'd see the day my brother would get married." The woman at the door ran almost full speed to Niccolò and threw her arms around him. Letting my hand go, he returned her hug, lifting her slightly off the ground.
"Do you always have to be so outrageous?" he asked, laughing. There was a lightness to his voice that I hadn't heard before. It was somewhat endearing to know he wasn't the stern, focused man that I'd seen all week. That there was this other side to him, warm and open with the people he loved.
"For you, yes, you need someone to loosen you up.
" She let go of him and turned her attention to me.
Her cinnamon-colored hair nearly glowed, falling to her waist in thick, wild waves.
Her striking, almost gold eyes locked onto mine, but they remained cool.
There was no excitement like when she'd seen her brother.
She was studying me, gauging me against some invisible standard.
"Is he keeping you prisoner in the shed out back? "
"No, the room at the top of the stairs." I motioned with my head, and all eyes looked up to the door.
“I knew it. Blink twice if you want me to break you out of here." She leaned in and whispered, her breath warm against my ear, "I know all the good ways out." Glancing from her to Niccolò, I watched the muscle along his jaw clench.
"I appreciate the offer, but he's not been a terrible jailer. It was impossible to hide the smirk from my face. "He lets me out once a day, and I get rations delivered to me."
"Great, now I have to deal with two of you. Emilia, this is my sister Beatrix, but if you call her that, she'd likely slit your throat, so she goes by Trixie." He shook his head and sighed, but there was affection in the gesture.
The morning flew by, and having Niccolò's family here was a breath of fresh air in this house and for him.
They filled the space with warmth and noise, arguing good-naturedly about everything from politics to who made the best cannoli.
Niccolò laughed more in those few hours than I'd heard all week, the sound rich and genuine.
Standing in a corner of the room, I felt like an intruder.
Someone who didn't belong amid the laughter and memories.
An outsider looking in at something I'd never experienced.
"They can be a lot to handle at once." I turned and looked into Cecilia's gentle face.
"I wish we'd had the time to ease you into the world that is the Venosa familia.
Why don't we go somewhere a little more private? "
She wandered through the house with ease, which made sense because it had been hers.
Every turn was automatic, muscle memory guiding her steps.
I followed her into a beautiful room of windows, and even in the cold December weather, it felt beautiful.
A solarium, filled with plants and comfortable furniture, with sunlight streaming through the glass.
We both sat, and she took a deep breath. "I won't ask you if you're okay. This isn’t a situation that anyone would be okay with. But how are you?" She took a sip of her wine and waited, her dark eyes patient.
"No, I'm not okay with it. How much has Niccolò told you?" I was reluctant to air all my dirty laundry, so I needed to know what had been said.
“He's very open with me, but he didn't tell me you'd been calling the shots in the Carminatti family for the last two years. I found that out through other channels. I know you think you were flying under the radar, but a few people knew.” She sat a little straighter in her chair.
"They are people in the Venosa circle, nobody else. May I speak freely?"
"It's your home."
"No, not anymore, it's yours now." She smiled sweetly, and I had the overwhelming desire to hug her, but I stayed in my chair.
"You might not want to marry my son, but you are precisely the woman he needs standing next to him. Most wives will say they have their husbands’ backs, but when shit hits the fan, they are the first to roll over.
That won't be you. You've seen what he does, you've done what he does.
The two of you together will be the most powerful couple the Cosa Nostra has ever seen.
" Her smile was warm, and I felt a calm wash over me.
Maybe this wasn't the end of my independence but the beginning of something I could never have imagined. A partnership instead of a prison.
"I'm very pleased with the match, Emilia.
You and Nico are suited to one another; I can already tell.
Love will come as it did in my marriage, but let it happen naturally.
" She lifted her glass again. "Nico's father and I had a courtship much the same as yours. My family and the Venosa’s had been rivals in Italy.
I moved here and tried to avoid this world altogether, but as they say, it pulled me back in.
Constantine married me to protect me and use me for leverage.
I wasn't easy on him, and I don't expect you to go easy on Nico.
Make him work for your love; it will make you better partners in the long run.
" Her eyes were distant, lost in memories.
I'd heard the whispered stories of Cecilia Venosa and how she stood in front of Niccolò's grandfather as her family enacted their war on this house.
She'd vowed to honor the family she'd married into and accomplished that very early in her marriage.
Blood had been spilled that night, but she'd stood firm.
She was a woman who didn't let the men in her life tell her what to do.
If those fairy tales were true, she went against her husband's wishes and did what she saw fit as a member of this family.
Women were afraid and jealous of her. I was in awe that she dared to go against the mafia's expectations of women.
"There you two are. I thought I’d have to send a search party out." My back stiffened with just the sound of his voice, and I shifted my eyes from his mother, who had seen the movement. Her expression changed, knowing.
"I'm going to go find Lorenzo and leave you both to a minute of privacy." She stood, walked over to me, and put her warm, maternal hand on my cheek. "You will do." She nodded and left the room, closing the door softly behind her.
"You've gained her approval." His words were quiet but not menacing, more like appreciative.
"That's hard to come by. There are days I think it's something even my sister and I don't have.
" I expected him to sit across from me as his mother did, but he pulled the chair right in front of me, so close our knees almost touched.
"She thinks we don't know she's in love with Lorenzo, but it's written all over her face when they’re together. One day, I’ll tell her just finally to accept his marriage proposal.
" He leaned back and stretched out his long legs, getting comfortable.
"Your family’s wonderful."
"You sound sad when you say that. Why?" His eyes searched my face.
"It's overwhelming, unimaginable that people like to be together and something I've never seen in my own.
" I fiddled with the stem of my glass, unable to meet his gaze.
"Niccolò, I don't know how to do this." He set his glass on the table, took mine from me, and placed it next to his.
I thought he would take my hands, but instead he placed his palms on my thighs and shifted them higher until I felt like I couldn't look at him.
The heat of his hands burned through the fabric of my dress.
"From now on, you’ll call me Nico. You're a part of this family now. Tomorrow, every person in that room will vow to protect you. There’s no more you and them, it's just us.
Your years of being let down by those who are supposed to love you are over.
" His voice was firm, leaving no room for argument.
He reached out and cupped my cheek, his rough palm against my skin. Leaning into his touch, I closed my eyes and wondered what would happen if I let my guard down with this man. If I stopped fighting and simply let myself fall.