“Let me guess. He hated that idea.”
Aria laughed. “Yeah. He doesn’t trust the Outfit and won’t let me go there without him.”
“I kind of have to agree with him. I wish we could go together though.”
“Maybe next year. Father can hardly stay mad at you forever.”
“Father will still be mad at me when he’s roasting in hell.”
***
As expected, I wasn’t invited to my family’s Christmas party. Officially, Father couldn’t have denied me entrance as Matteo’s wife, but not only would that have been very awkward but Matteo also didn’t want to risk taking me back to Chicago so soon. That night after my body had won over my brain once again and succumbed to Matteo’s charm, I lay naked in his arms, his chest pressed up against my back. I wasn’t sure why I always fell asleep with his arms around me, and worse why I was sometimes longing for his closeness during the day too. So far I’d managed to resist that second notion at least.
“Will I ever see Fabi and Lily again?” I whispered into the silence.
Matteo’s arms around my waist tightened. “If they were part of the Cosa Nostra, Luca could do something, but your father only has to listen to Cavallaro.”
“I know,” I said almost angrily. I knew how things worked in our world. “But can’t we invite my family over for some kind of gathering? Father wouldn’t reject a direct invitation, right?”
Matteo propped himself up and stared down at my face. “Your father would definitely follow the invitation, but he wouldn’t have to take your sister and brother with him. Many men keep their families out of it for security reasons.”
I nodded.
Matteo watched me for a long time and it was starting to make me feel naked in a very different way. I shot him a glare. “What?”
“Luca is very convincing. Maybe he can ask your father to allow Liliana and Fabiano to come for a visit after Christmas. Your father could send his own guards with them if he doesn’t trust us.”
“Why would Luca do that? He and Aria are still welcome in Chicago.”
“If I ask Luca, he’ll do it.”
“And why should you ask him? Aren’t you in enough trouble already because of Bardoni and getting rid of my ankle monitor?”
Matteo twirled a strand of my hair around his finger. “I’d do it for you. You are my wife and I want to make you happy.” His smile was teasing and yet what he’d said had sounded sincere.
My heart thudded dangerously, and new panic rose up. What was happening? Fear of my own emotions got the better of me. “If you really care about me and want to see me happy, let me go. All I’ve ever wanted was freedom and a normal life.”
The moment the words left my mouth, I realized I wasn’t sure if they were still the truth.
Matteo’s expression shut off, something hard and cold settling in his eyes. He lay back down and extinguished the lights. I almost apologized and reached out for him.
His lips brushed my ear. “I guess then that means I don’t care enough. Because letting you go? That’s the one thing I’ll never do.”
***
After that conversation, our interactions in the next few days were reduced to sex once again.
To my surprise, I missed our banter. I even missed Matteo’s stupid cockiness and that annoying shark-grin, but most of all I missed falling asleep with his fingers tracing the soft skin of my inner forearm.
Christmas time was definitely turning into my own personal nightmare. Matteo and I were invited to three more parties, all of them either hosted by high-ranking mobsters, or business men with close connections to the mob. All of them too important to offend by not attending. I really hoped Matteo wouldn’t kill any more hosts though. The Bardoni debacle so far had been without consequences but I still wasn’t entirely sure it would stay that way. At some point people would undoubtedly get suspicious.
Now that I wasn’t wearing an ankle monitor anymore, Sandro was my shadow, and when Aria and I went anywhere together, Romero was always there as well. It was ridiculous. Even without a technical device every aspect of my life was out of my control. Married bliss, my ass.
I fixed a wayward strand, which had fallen out of my updo and brushed my hands over my new dress. With all the social events looming in my future, Aria and I had done another big shopping trip. I was starting to feel like one of those trophy mob wives I’d despised all my life. Shopping, social events and warming their husband’s bed was their whole world, and also mine. I glared at my reflection. I even looked all the way like a trophy wife with my hair in that elegant updo and the gorgeous dark green Cocktail dress that hugged my curves. Even my huge wedding ring and the diamond necklace screamed trophy wife. It took all my self-control not to rip the dress off my body and cut my hair off. How could I have become what I’d hated for so long? And how could I be okay with it?
“Aria and Luca are here,” Matteo shouted. “We need to get going.” This was more than he’d said to me outside of the bedroom since that night. With a sigh, I turned away from the mirror and headed toward the living room where Aria, Luca and Matteo were waiting. Matteo looked marvelous in a slim-fit black suit, white shirt and black tie. It was so cliché mobster, but he pulled it off with ease. That man always looked good. His eyes did a quick scan of my outfit and my body responded with a familiar shiver. I’d read about looks that were like sex, but I’d always considered them urban legend. But Matteo had that look down to a T.
I kept my face unaffected as I walked toward them. Aria was an apparition in her dark red dress and with her golden curls. In the past I’d often felt like I could never compete with her but I’d come to realize that I didn’t have to. Luca towered over my sister in a similar suit like Matteo, but it did nothing for me. I stopped beside Matteo and his hand immediately went to my hip. Did he even notice how possessive those small gestures were? In the past, my first reaction to them would have been annoyance followed by a rebuff, but now it seemed almost natural. I wasn’t sure why this was the case, why I molded so easily into the life that had been cut out for me even before my birth. Some people would probably seek an explanation in fate or faith. I’d never considered either option to be valid. I didn’t like the idea that some bigger outer thing controlled who I was and how my life would develop.