“This weekend. Same district,” Leandro replies.
Same district. My brain is filled with information and yet these minor details trigger little to none since it’s probably something new and all I have is outdated information. Without thinking I ask, “And which district would that be?”
Leandro’s eyes go over my head and I feel Clemente’s body shift slightly, probably giving him a nod to answer my question since Leandro now states, “Fredo’s district.”
They probably aren’t aware of my knowledge and just humor me with giving me some information. I could either keep quiet and not say anything—let them think I am clueless—or let them know I am more aware how things are run around here than they think. Screw it. I’ve worked hard to fit into this man’s world and be useful instead of the silent arm candy one would expect.
Decision made, I lock my eyes with Leandro and openly share my thoughts. “Fredo likes fast cars, classy women, a snort of coke, and gambling. It doesn’t matter if he has a wife and two kids at home. Not to mention he also has the right contacts seeing as he runs a floating casino. Tell me you guys don’t think he’s clueless about what goes on in his district. If anything, he probably has his fat fingers in these illegal gambling parties and thinks you guys will let him handle things while he keeps them going, filling his own pockets, addiction, whatever.”
Clemente’s hands leave my body and suddenly I’m facing the top three mafia men who run the underworld of California.
Arturo leans forward and acts as if he’s cutting me a break when he throws his thumb over his shoulder and fake whispers, “If I were you, I’d start explaining myself right about now. The details you just spilled aren’t information a woman who just entered the country, and our fucking state, would be aware of. You know...before this guy here blows and we won’t have a wedding. A wedding means a party. A party equals a fresh load of single women. Single women I was looking forward to mingle with.”
Ugh. Men. I point my finger in his face. “Keep your dick in your pants at my wedding.”
Leandro chuckles. And I can tell Arturo is going to shoot him a remark but Clemente isn’t amused. His eyes are narrowed and his mouth is set in a tight line.
I need to give him some information to soothe his anger. “When your uncle informed me about our arranged marriage, he insisted on having regular meetings. We met three times a week and in those meetings he provided me with information. If you would have listened to me, you would have been aware of the fact that I mentioned a few times how I was trained.”
I should have known. My words don’t diminish his anger and suspicions. Maybe it will help if I give a little background information about who I am.
“Do you know who my mother was?” I question.
Clemente ignores my question and with his condescending gaze he takes out his phone and within a few breaths his uncle’s voice fills the air, giving Clemente a brisk greeting.
“What kind of woman did you hook me up with?” Anger bursts through every word Clemente spits out.
Giuseppe chuckles. “One who is worthy. I assume she showed a hint of her skills. Did she at least impress you? I’m sure she did since you’re calling me.”
“I’m not impressed,” Clemente snaps. “I’m fucking pissed. Why would a woman carry delicate intel about a capo?”
“Because she takes after her mother. And I know you aren’t the kind of man who enjoys a doormat. She’s Francesco and Aurora’s daughter,” Giuseppe supplies.
Clemente’s eyes flare and the anger suddenly falls flat.
“I can tell by your silence you remember what happened with her parents. No need to mention she takes after her mother. It’s why I had regular meetings to give her the necessary background information. This one thrives on knowledge, Clemente. Her high IQ would have been wasted to be any other man’s wife. She was always promised to be yours.”
At this point I’m allowed to gloat. I cross my arms in front of my chest and raise my eyebrow in challenge to make sure he knows he owes me some form of apology for acting like a dick.
“What’s the deal with this Mattia fucker she arrived with?” Clemente asks.
“You caught that, did you? I was going to call you about the boy having a crush on her but he’s harmless. Besides, Caterina is as loyal as they come. I’m pretty sure she’s either oblivious to his advances or disregards them since she treats him like a little brother.”
Holy shit. No, I wasn’t totally oblivious. I did have my suspicions, and Giuseppe is right, I would never act on it since I do see him like a little brother.
Clemente is wearing a huge smirk. “Thanks, uncle. I will deal with it accordingly.”
“See you at the wedding, Clemente,” his uncle says.
“See you in two weeks,” Clemente replies, ends the call and puts his phone back into the pocket of his slacks.
I let my arms slide down and fold my hands in front of my body, awaiting Clemente’s verdict. And it is a verdict by the looks of it. His anger is radiating off him in waves and it’s all directed at me.
“Go shower and spend some time in my bedroom. I will come get you when I’m finished here.”
Go to your room and stay there. That’s what he’s ordering me. My first instinct is to lash out. He’s basically telling me he doesn’t want my help, doesn’t respect me, or think I’m capable enough. In this mafia world a woman is merely a doll; to be used whenever, and however, the man deems fit.
It’s for this reason I keep my mouth shut to prevent curses from flowing out. I paint a huge fake smile on my face and nod at both Arturo and Leandro, totally ignoring Clemente. And finally, I find my voice and tell them in a sugary sweet voice, “Gentlemen, if you’ll excuse me. It’s been a pleasure meeting the both of you. But it seems I have a hot date with a shower along with some quiet me time.”
I spin on my heels and lazily remove myself from the room, adding a sway to my hips in an effort to show class and grace and give nothing away from the anger and hate flowing through me.
Because in this moment? I would like nothing more than to wrap my fingers around my future husband’s neck and wring them hard enough to prevent our marriage altogether. Asshole.
CHAPTER THREE
Be grateful I didn’t shoot
— Clemente —
“Why do I have the feeling you just kicked a top bred puppy?” Leandro grumbles.
Arturo whistles low. “Kicked a puppy? Nah, dude. He just dug a hole and shoved a perfectly fine woman into the dirt she doesn’t belong in. I’m pretty damn sure you just created an enemy out of your future wife. Good luck surviving the night lying next to that one.”
I hate to admit it, but both of them are right.
“I’ll deal with it,” I grumble and let my fingers slide against the side of my head to make sure my hair is still perfectly styled back. Who am I kidding? It’s a nervous tick and I’m doing it because I damn well know I fucked up.
When my uncle informed me about the necessary arranged marriage I instantly agreed. Not only because it was needed to make sure the cartel backed off, but also because it was expected for a man in my position. The head of the Famiglia needs to have a wife, and most definitely must produce an heir. It was time I fulfilled this part of my responsibility.