Total pages in book: 102
Estimated words: 98583 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 493(@200wpm)___ 394(@250wpm)___ 329(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 98583 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 493(@200wpm)___ 394(@250wpm)___ 329(@300wpm)
I rub my hands together. I’m tempted to tell him about Demir, but what if he already knows? He’ll only tell me to let it go and might tell Grandmother that I was poking around about that name.
“Maybe you’re right,” I say, hedging a bit.
“I am right.” He sips his drink. “Your wedding is soon. You will behave in the meantime, Lucille. No more trouble. No more whatever you and Kennedy have cooking. I won’t mention this to Grandmother if you swear you’ll behave.” He tilts his head and even manages to smile a bit. “Do that for me, will you, kiddo? Be good, marry that Adriano character, and help the whole family out. Can you do that?”
I pull into myself. I despise the idea of letting my brother down. Even if he’s always been distant and difficult, he hasn’t been nearly as bad as Grandmother. There have even been a few good times where I thought we might grow close. We never did, but still.
Now could be my chance.
Besides, what can I do about this Demir stuff?
I’m marrying Adriano either way.
“I can do that,” I say contritely. “No more trouble.”
“That’s it. I know you have it in you.” He walks over and gives me a quick pat on the arm. “Go on, I’ll keep my mouth shut. You just hang tight until your wedding day.”
Pierre ushers me out, beaming the whole time, while a part of me withers and falls dormant. Going quiet again.
Chapter 10
The Wedding
Adriano
“You’re not in position,” Bianca says, glaring at me over her clipboard. “I sent you the schedule last night. Didn’t you study it at all?”
I frown at her as I adjust my tie in the mirror. “Not really.”
“It’s your wedding day, you idiot,” she says, exasperated. “Do you have any idea how hard this was to coordinate? Between our annoying family and the Willing-Morris nightmare, this has been absolutely horrendous.”
“You did a nice job.”
“You haven’t even seen it yet!” She stares at me like I’ve gone insane. “The car to the church is waiting downstairs. You should’ve left five minutes ago. Now everything will be pushed back—”
“I’ll tell Luca to drive fast.”
“Drive fast. Gee, what a great idea, as if I hadn’t already accounted for that in my timing!” She throws up her hands and starts pacing. “I’ve already fielded a dozen calls in the last half hour. The florist, the band, the bartenders. A million fucking problems.”
I watch my sister stomp around my room, looking like she’s going to burn the place down. It’d be funny if it weren’t such a pain in the ass.
“You’re acting like this is your wedding day.”
“It might as well be,” she says through her teeth. She storms over to my dresser, pulls open the bottom drawer, and fishes around until she comes up with a bottle of whiskey I keep hidden in there.
“That’s a hundred-year-old—” I don’t get to finish. She pops out the cork and takes a swig.
“You wanna finish that sentence, asshole?” She stares me down and tilts the bottle. “I’ll dump this stuff out, I swear.”
“At least drink it,” I murmur and finish adjusting my suit. “How do I look?”
She softens a touch and puts the bottle away. “You look good.” She comes over and tugs at one of my sleeves. “Do you want to see him before you leave?”
I glance at the wall. Dad’s room is on the other side of the building, but it’s like I can feel him. “He won’t know either way.”
“But you will.” She doesn’t look at me. “I know it’s hard. I won’t judge you if you decide you can’t. But I think you should.”
“What did you tell people? About why he won’t be there?”
“Sick.” She shrugs slightly and tucks her clipboard under her arm. “It’s true.”
“We won’t be able to hide how bad he’s gotten for much longer. The Capos are already asking questions.”
“That’s why you’re rushing into this, right? Get a good, pretty wife from a solid family—”
“How do you know she’s pretty?”
“I did my research, you idiot.” She punches my arm lightly. “Anyway, you’re ready. We both know you are.”
I look back at the mirror. I see so much of my father staring back. His eyes, his cheeks, his jaw. Even his hair and his nose. But I have my mother’s temperament, much colder, much more calculating, while my father was a passionate man when he was in his prime, a lot like Bianca is now.
She’s right. I’m ready. I’ve been ready for years, ever since Father was diagnosed and I started taking more and more of his responsibilities. But it’s one thing to be the power behind the power and another to take on the official mantle of the Don.
“I’ll meet you at the car,” I tell her and lean in to give her a quick kiss on the cheek. “Thanks for your work.”