3

"Thirteen years old, Gianna. He is a man in his prime," Mother admonished.

"Why does he want me?" I had not even met him. He didn't know me. And what was worse: I had no idea how to raise children.

"You are a Rizzo. The union of two important families is always desirable," Mom said. I looked at Dad, but he was staring at his wine glass.

The last thing he had told me about Alessio Moretti was that Luca had appointed him underboss because the two were similar, both irrevocably cruel, ruthless, and built like bulls. And now he was giving me to such a man. "When?"

I asked. Given Mom's excitement, all the details must have already been decided.

"One day after your birthday," Mom said. "I'm surprised you waited until I came of age. It's not like we're a law-abiding society in general."

Mom tightened her lips. "I hope you get rid of that cockiness before you meet Alessio. A man like him will not tolerate your insolence."

My hands closed into fists under the table. Mother was probably the driving force behind the marriage. She was always trying to improve our position in the Family. She smiled, then stood up.

"I'd better start looking for a location. This will be the event of the year." She stroked my cheek as if I were a cute poodle who had won her a trophy in a dog show. Noticing my sour expression, she frowned.

"I'm not sure Alessio will approve of your grumpiness -- or your bangs."

"She's fine, Egidia," Dad said firmly. "She looks pretty and young, unsophisticated and ladylike."

"If Alessio wants a lady, he should stop stealing cribs," I muttered. Mom gasped, clapping a hand over her heart as if I had single-handedly put her in an early grave.

Dad tried to mask a laugh with a cough. Mom was not fooled. She pointed an admonishing finger at him. "Talk some sense to your daughter. You know Alessio. I always told you to be stricter with her."

She turned and walked away with a movement of her long skirt. Dad sighed. He turned a tired smile on me. "Your mother only wants what is best for you."

"She wants what's best for our position. How is marrying a cruel old man good for me, Dad?"

"Let's go," said Father, getting up.

"Let's take a walk in the garden." I followed him. He held out his arm to me, and I took it. The air was hot and humid and hit me like a wrecking ball.

"Alessio is not that old, Gianna. Only thirty-one." I tried to think about men his age, but I never paid attention to men. Wasn't Luca about her age?

Thinking about my cousin was no consolation; It scared me to no end.

If Alessio was like that. What if he was a disgusting fat brute? I looked up at Dad. His brown eyes softened.

"Don't look at me as if I betrayed you. Becoming Alessio's wife is not as bad as you might think."

"Irrevocably cruel. That's what you called it. Remember?" Dad nodded guiltily.

"To his men and the enemy, not to you."

"How can you be sure? Why did your wife die? How, what if he killed her? Or abused her so horribly that she took her own life?"

I inhaled deeply, trying to calm myself.

Dad brushed my bangs off my face.

"I've never seen you so scared." He sighed.

"Luca assured me that Alessio had no role in his wife's death."

"Do you trust Luca? Didn't you tell me he's trying to establish his power?"

"I shouldn't have told you so much."

"And how can Luca be sure about what happened to Mrs. Moretti? You know how it is. Not even a Chief meddles in family affairs." Dad grabbed my shoulders.

"Alessio will not lay hands on you if he knows what is good for him."

We both knew that Dad couldn't do anything once I got married to Alessio.

And if we are honest, he was not someone who would risk getting into a conflict that he would lose. Luca preferred Alessio to my father.

If he had to choose between the two, Father would have found a quick end.

"He's coming to see you tomorrow." I took a step back, shocked.

"Tomorrow?"

Gianna

Mom had been very clear that I would not meet Alessio until our official presentation during dinner.

I was to stay in my room all afternoon while my parents and future husband discussed my future as if I were a two-year-old without an opinion.

Dressed in my favorite denim dress and under a white tank top with sunflowers, I slipped out of my room when I heard the doorbell.

Barefoot, I made no noise as I tiptoed to the upper landing, avoiding any creaky boards.

I knelt down to shrink and peeked through the railing.

From the sound of voices, my parents were exchanging pleasantries with two men.

Dad approached, smiling his official smile, followed by Mom who radiated joy. Then two men entered my field of vision. It was not hard to guess which one was Alessio.

He towered over Dad and the second man.

Now I understood why they compared him to Luke. He was wide and tall, and the dark blue three-piece suit made him look even more imposing. His expression was steely. Even my mother batting her eyelashes didn't crack a smile at him.

At least his partner looked like he wanted to be there. Alessio did not look old, and certainly not fat. His muscles could be seen even through the layers of fabric he wore. His face was all sharp angles and dark beard.

It was an intentional stubble, not the kind that screamed lack of time or care.

Alessio was a grown man, a very imposing, powerful man, and I had just finished high school. What were he and I supposed to talk about?

I loved modern art, drawing, and Pilates. I doubted that any of these things were important to a man like him. Torture and money laundering were most likely his favorite pastimes, and perhaps the occasional whore.

Anxiety gripped my insides. In less than four months I was to sleep with this man, with this stranger. With a man who could have led his wife to her death.

A flicker of guilt pervaded me.

I was speculating. Alessio had lost his wife and was left alone to care for his children. What if he had been a man in mourning? He wasn't looking at him, though.

However, considering that men in our world have learned to hide their true feelings from a young age, his lack of emotion meant nothing.

"Why don't we go to my office and have a glass of my best cognac and chat about marriage?"

Dad nodded down the hall. Alessio tilted his head.