Total pages in book: 108
Estimated words: 105679 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 528(@200wpm)___ 423(@250wpm)___ 352(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 105679 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 528(@200wpm)___ 423(@250wpm)___ 352(@300wpm)
“I have no intention of being anywhere near your brother,” I assured Matteo, the lie bitter on my tongue.
The waltz continued, each step taking me deeper into a future I couldn’t escape. I felt the weight of the ring on my finger, heavy as a shackle despite its delicate appearance.
The music swelled around us, and Matteo executed a perfect turn that made my head spin for a moment before the world righted itself again. From the corner of my eye, I caught my brother watching, his expression unreadable behind his mask.
Damon never liked the Salvatores. He thought them… too unruly, too messy, too undisciplined. But he also knew how important this marriage was to our family, so while he had his own uncertainties, he still expected perfection from me.
I thought Damon was too rigid, but he was the heir, after all. The next boss of the Chicago Outfit. He wasn’t a terrible brother, but he had been in our father’s shadows for too long.
One-two-three, one-two-three.
Perfect, impeccable steps.
The waltz ended and polite applause rippled through the ballroom. Matteo bowed, and I curtsied, the picture of refined elegance. Before I could catch my breath, another figure approached.
“May I have this dance with my daughter?” my father asked Matteo, who relinquished my hand with practiced grace.
My father’s hold was different: firmer with aged authority. His hand guided me firmly through the steps, his control absolute, unlike Matteo's and mine.
“You have become quite a vision, Serafina,” he said, his voice low enough that only I could hear. “The years away from home have transformed you.”
I kept my face composed, though his words stirred something unexpected within me. “Thank you, Father,” I responded, ever so politely. My father rarely complimented me.
In fact, we barely spoke over the years. I could count on one hand the number of phone calls we’d had since he sent me away and I had to learn to live on my own.
His eyes, so like mine, studied my face with an intensity that made me want to look away, but there was something else in them that held my gaze.
“The last time I saw you, you had just turned fifteen. A child. With big glasses and braces, and silly bows in her hair. Now you stand before me as a full-grown woman, barely recognizable, but nonetheless… beautiful and worthy of the Morelli name.” His lips curved into a rare smile. “I am proud of what you’ve become.”
Something cracked inside me at those words. They were words I had yearned to hear as his daughter, but they felt hollow now that they had been spoken. They were empty compliments, more a performance than truly meaningful.
“I’ve done as you asked,” I replied, careful to keep my voice steady. “I always have.”
He nodded, seemingly pleased. “And you will continue to do so. You’ve impressed the Salvatores. Particularly your future husband.” His grip tightened slightly on my waist. “You’ve done well to capture his interest so quickly.”
The music swelled around us as he guided me through a turn. “Remember what we discussed. The future of our family depends on it.”
I felt my chest constrict at his words, the weight of expectation pressing down on me like a physical force. “I understand my duty.”
Ah yes… My father's advice on marriage. They were not very different from Lucia’s now that I thought about it. I guessed they knew what a woman like me needed to do to keep a man like Matteo interested in our marriage. For a lifetime.
“Good girl.” His eyes softened fractionally. “I know this arrangement wasn’t your choice initially, but you’re doing what needs to be done. For family. For legacy. Your mother would have been pleased to see this day.”
I doubted that. Caterina Morelli had never been pleased by anything I did.
“You’re so much like her, but with fire in your eyes.”
Oh. What?
“I see it burning, Serafina. You’ve been trying so hard to keep in control. It’s unexpected but I like it. You’re different than I imagined.”
My head spun at his words…
Was it possible he could see past my facade? No, that couldn’t be.
“Innocent but not so docile. I think that’s why the Salvatores seem to like you so much. They are rather unruly themselves.”
As the final notes of the waltz faded, my father released me with a formal bow. Applause surrounded us, the sound thunderous in my ears. I smiled and curtseyed, the perfect daughter, the perfect bride-to-be.
But I couldn’t breathe.
My father’s words echoed through my ears, they were almost deafening.
The ballroom seemed to shrink around me, the air growing thick and stifling, suffocating. My skin under the mask started to itch and I felt the urge to dig into and claw at my flesh.
Too many eyes, too many expectations, too many lies.
Nausea filled my mouth, bitter and choking.
I needed air. Space. Escape.