I wince. "That’s speculating. I don’t want to think about ifs and buts… It is what it is. You’re a gangster and I’m a jazz dancer and an actress, and never the twain shall meet."
36
Luca
The jet glides into the hangar, and the engines switch off. Throughout the journey, we didn’t speak a word to each other. There’s nothing left to say. This disaster of a marriage is over before it even started. Even before it was consummated, apparently.
A criminal. She sees me as the bad guy; someone on the wrong side of the law. Someone she doesn't want to be with. How had I not sensed that? Perhaps subconsciously, I did. But I thought I could overcome her objections.
Every time she was in my arms, I was sure she was attracted to me. Every time she looked into my eyes, I felt the connection between us.
Of course, I’m the Mafia. I'm not the kind of person she encounters on a daily basis. She’s a normal person. Someone with dreams of becoming an actress. We live very different lives, hang out in very different circles. But the chemistry between us overrode all of the differences, or so I’d thought.
I'd been sure I could change the dynamic between us over the next few weeks. That I’d finally be able to get her to trust me enough so I could tell her more about myself and why I’m not in favor of Michael's plans to legalize theCosa Nostrabusinesses.
But in one fell swoop, she shattered all of my dreams. She burnt down my hopes and exposed them to be illusions. The cravings of a lunatic who allowed himself to be so overcome by a sweet smile, a soft touch, a giggle that lodged in my heart and broke through the defenses of a lifetime... I should have known it was too good to be true.
I thought she was the most innocent woman I ever met. I should have known she used me for her own needs. Mainly, to ensure she wouldn't miss the opening night of her musical.
And I can't blame her. It’s not like I gave her a choice. Besides, I only asked her to marry me to fulfill my promise to Nonna. Only, I began to see something more for her... For us. Too bad she doesn't see it.
She can’t deny the chemistry between us. She knows I’m attracted to her, and I know she feels the same attraction to me. I thought I could make that work, that I could charm her.
But she was never going to let this go anywhere, despite agreeing to allow things to follow their natural course. She had no intention of ever allowing this to be anything more than a fake marriage. Because she disapproves of my lifestyle. I pushed her into something she didn’t want, and used my resources—resources that only served to confirm said lifestyle— to coerce her. And I have only myself to blame.
Either way, there’s no future for us. As soon as I’m sure my family is convinced of the veracity of our marriage, I’ll ensure we separate. My heart spasms in my chest. That soft melting feeling I've been carrying solidifies. Good. I never should have allowed my walls to disintegrate. Never should have allowed myself to care for her. It’s not too late. If I shut myself off now, I’ll limit the damage caused by opening myself to her. All I have to do is get through the next few weeks, then we’ll go our separate ways, bound only in the eyes of the law, but for all other purposes we’ll have different lives. Strange, for someone who has never cared about the law. It’s a legal technicality that will bind me to this woman until my death. I rise to my feet, head for the already open door, then turn to find her following me.
Her face is pale, features composed. She still wears the wedding dress I bought her. Her hair is brushed back from her face and flows down her back. In her hand, she carries the bag she took with her to the rehearsal yesterday.
"Leave it. One of the staff will make sure it gets to the car."
She hesitates, then drops the bag on the nearest chair. She walks toward me, and the image of how she’d glided in my direction when we’d gotten married a few hours ago crashes over me. Seeing her dressed in white, with her gaze locked on mine, the rest of the room receded, and I was sure there was a reason she came into my life. Now, I know it was to teach me a lesson. To confirm what I already knew.
I’ll never fall in love with another person. Never allow myself to feel vulnerable again.
When she reaches me, I jerk my chin through the open door. She peeks through the window, then pales.
"They know?" Her voice is laced with horror.
"Apparently even Massimo couldn’t persuade them to stay away from forming a reception committee."
I had peeked out earlier and confirmed that, yes, the family had gathered already to greet us. I had counted all of my brothers, except for Seb and Michael. Seb is forgiven for not coming to greet me, considering he recently got married. I assume he wants to spend time with his wife, and I’ll catch up with him soon, I’m sure. But why isn’t Michael here? When this entire charade is more for his benefit than anyone else.
Once more, she glances at the gathering of people, then back at me.
"I’m scared." Her chin trembles.
I raise a shoulder. "Soon they’ll have bought into our story, and then you’ll be free to do as you please… within limits of course."
"Of course," she says wryly.
If I were a gentleman, I’d hold her hand and lead her down the steps so I could shield her against the questions from my family that are sure to come our way. But considering she hasn’t behaved very ladylike, by keeping that little secret from me, I don’t see why I should protect her from what’s to come.
"After you." I nod in the direction of the crowd.
"Luca," one of my brothers—Christian maybe?— yells. "You guys coming down, or should we come up there to congratulate you?"
I thrust my hand out and show him the finger, then straighten out my fingers.