Chapter 0005

MARIELLA

I’d never had an embarrassing moment in my life, besides the occasional trips and falls as a child. But fainting at the altar of my own engagement party would always be on top of that list. Forever. Just when I’d thought my day couldn’t get any worse than being at the pedestal, it had.

I tried the fifth gown, the dress hugged the bodice all the way to the mid-hip and the straight-lined skirt flared toward the hem with a petal-shaped train to drag behind me on the aisle. The back was a deep cut that ended just above my loin. As the wind brushed my bare back, a shiver ran down my spine. With a deep v-cut neckline and spaghetti straps, the dress was a complete mixture of beauty and sophistication.

“Why don’t you try the ball gowns instead?” Arabella asked from her seat in the lounge area just across the room.

The boutique was closed because of us. And even though I hated getting special treatments like this, I needed the privacy and space to hold myself together. The owner, Hannah, pulled the train of the dress to flare out and turned to my mother, who had a look of fifty-fifty appreciation.

“I like it,” I said before Mama could open her mouth and she pursed her lips.

“Are you sure, honey?” she asked. “There are more dresses to try from.”

Hannah looked tired already. Fitting into a dress and getting it out wasn’t easy and then she would have to put them back properly as well.

“No, I like it.”

Hannah clapped her hands at my words. “I think this is perfect for her too. It really brings out her curves. Makes her look . . . older.”

That was the approval my mother needed. A smile lit up on her lips and I could feel Arabella rolling her eyes even when I wasn’t looking.

“She is eighteen. She should look eighteen,” my stubborn sister groaned. “How old do you expect her to look? Thirty?”

Mama ignored her and touched the fabric of the dress. “Is this pure silk?”

“Yes,” Hannah responded. “Mikado silk.”

I looked down at my chest and asked, “Can you make a few alterations before the wedding?”

Before Hannah could speak, Mama chimed in, “The wedding is in a week, Marie. Besides, everything is fine with the dress.”

“No, I can be quick with the alternations if you want,” Hannah said.

My eyes shuffled between Mama and her, unable to decide if I should speak up. It was my wedding, yet I behaved like I had very little say in it. Technically, I did. Arabella had been right. I was a people pleaser.

The bell above the door to the shop rang and our heads twisted in the direction of it. Isobel Vitale walked in, looking like an angel with shiny brown hair and radiating skin. Even the straight women had crush on her and I was pretty sure I was in that list too. It was quite intimidating.

She smiled at me and said, “Danilo said you’d be here.”

Mama was startled, but it didn’t show on her face. She rejoiced, “It’s so good to have you here, Bella. I hear you’ll be staying in Minneapolis until the wedding.”

Isobel nodded. “I was in desperate need of a holiday and this is as far as it would get for me with everything going on with Cosa Nostra.” She glanced at me. “So how’s the shopping going?”

“Good,” I answered, looking down at my dress. “I’ve chosen this.”

She gave an appreciative smile. “You have brilliant choice, Mariella.”

“I just wanted to change a few things.” I gave a quick glance at Mama, hoping she didn’t mind. She didn’t look like she did, but she had a thicker mask on with Isobel Vitale in the same room.

Arabella, too, was alarmed, her eyes not moving an inch from the capo’s wife’s presence.

“Let’s hear what changes you need.” Hannah took her notepad.

“Can you add cups in the portion of the chest?” I asked in a low voice.

Arabella burst out laughing and everyone turned to her. She bit out, “Yeah, she definitely needs them because fainting might not be the only embarrassment she faces at the wedding.”

“Whatever do you mean?” Mama raised a brow.

“Her nipples turn to stone when she’s nervous,” she said and my cheeks heated in embarrassment.

“Ara!” Mama yelled at her.

I turned back to the mirror and closed my eyes while shaking my head. She really didn’t have to open her mouth and make me feel uncomfortable in front of Isobel.

“It’s absolutely alright. The whole nipple thing an all-girl problem,” Isobel looked at Ara, “which is something you will have to go through, too.” She stepped behind me and asked, “Are you comfortable with the cuts?”

I stared at her in the mirror and bobbed my head. She examined at the cut and the back and then at the chest that stopped a few inches above my belly button. My breasts looked fuller because of the delicate cut and my neck seemed longer because of the fine-sleeves.

“This area looks a little loose,” Isobel said, bracketing my waist with her hands. “Can you pin it up? Take proper measurements and maybe size the strap a bit.”

Hannah gave a quick nod. “Sure, Mrs Vitale.”

Isobel pressed her lips in a fine line and turned back to Mama. They moved to one side of the room while I dressed myself in my tight denim pants, the white long shirt tucked inside and the beige sweater to match the look.

When I returned to Arabella, she huffed. I didn’t like her aversion to my wedding, but there was very little I could do about it. She was just sixteen and had no clue about how to judge a character, yet, talking to Eros had brought her to the conclusion that he was repulsive, arrogant and narcissistic. I couldn’t argue with her on this, because I wasn’t a good judge of character.

Glancing in Mama’s direction, she pulled herself up from the seat and whispered, “What is she doing here?”

“What makes you think I know the answer?” I shook my head. “From what it seems, Mama wasn’t aware, either.”

She nodded. “When Papa said she’s taken a close initiative to oversee the wedding, I didn’t expect her to come all the way here.” Before I could speak, she added, “Maybe I should ask her to control Eros’s snobby behaviour rather than wasting time at things we have people for.”

“You talk too much. If she wants to help, who are we to stop her?” I chided, “And you’re not going to speak ill of Eros anymore.”

She made an ‘O’ with her lips. “Are you jealous? Perhaps, you’re drooling over his cocky smile and devilish charms too?”

“Shut up!” Drooling over him hadn’t come to my mind yet. As my sister, she should’ve known better that I preferred knowing people beyond that.

Was Eros handsome? Yes. Devilishly charming? Yes. Seductively alluring? A hundred times yes. But he was still a stranger and a dangerous man to add to that. All underbosses were dangerous. And even though Eros Castellanos had playfulness about him, I wondered how long it must take for it to be zapped with utter coldness and anger. Supposedly, not long.

I didn’t talk to Arabella all the way back to home, but Mama, on the other hand, kept going over the arrangements required for the wedding with her friends over the phone. Isobel’s car followed ours back as well, which was odd but I didn’t ask any question.

My first guess was that Mama had probably invited her over. Or perhaps she wanted to see where we lived.

But then when we entered the mansion, my eyes spotted Papa on the single sofa with a stern look on his face, Domenico Guerra near the fireplace with his hands over his chest and the long couch occupied by two sturdy figures. Adonis Vitale and Eros Castellanos.

It was weird how different yet similar both Adonis and Eros looked when put side by side. Almost like brothers.

Many men in our world didn’t have friends, or rather preferred to not indulge in such relationships. So it was hard to believe that Eros was anything more than an underboss to Adonis. But there were times when Adonis looked at Eros like they were close to family. I had noticed it at the engagement party too. And now, as Adonis’s eyes shuffled between Eros and Domenico, there was that same look.

“Ah, there they are.” Papa pointed at the doorway where I stood. “Are you done?”

I nodded.

“Mariella chose the dress herself and she did a great job,” Mama said from behind me. Arabella let out a low groan and stomped upstairs to her room. Our room.

I needed some rest too, because my feet hurt. Moving aside, I wanted to run up to my room, but one small hiss from Mama made me freeze.

Isobel walked past us into the room, her head held high. A proud gleam flickered in Adonis’s eyes that made me suck in a sharp breath. She was perfect for him. Strong in appearance, older, smarter and the way she carried herself, I doubted many could do it, despite being tied to a man like the capo.

Somehow, it made sense why he’d refused me. I was just a child to him, a child who would never measure up to half the woman he considered his wife. And that broke my heart.

I peeled my eyes from them, only to pause at Eros. He stared at me with caution and a bit of coldness like the time at the engagement party. That look reminded me of how I’d fainted at the thought of being married to him.

This was awful.

“I guess I can spare ten more minutes,” Eros said, his eyes still on me. Though, I wasn’t sure what he meant or who he’d said it to.

“You can speak to her alone, but remember, she’s not your wife yet and I wouldn’t want to reconsider this arrangement.”

Papa’s authoritative tone over Eros alerted Adonis as if Papa wasn’t supposed to speak to him this way. Protectiveness. That was the closest emotion to describe what was written on Adonis’s face. It was the same type of possessiveness he had toward his wife. What was his relationship to Eros?

“You have nothing to worry about, Danilo.” Eros sat back, a leg over the other and unbuttoned the buttons of his dark blue blazer. “I just need ten minutes with your daughter and then we’ll be gone.”

“Five minutes,” Papa said.

“She’ll be my wife in a matter of five days and you’re still worried about her being in a room with me?” Eros scoffed, meeting my father’s concerned gaze. “What will you do after she’s married to me? Hide under our bed?”

Papa’s nostrils flared. It was an insult Papa wasn’t prepared for. Mama flinched behind me, the effect of it making me gulp. I looked down at the diamond ring on my finger. If Eros hadn’t made me wear this, Papa would’ve already taken his gun and shot a bullet to his head, not worrying about his position.

Eros’s position as an underboss wasn’t that strong either, which was why he had agreed on marrying me. He needed my father’s support and he wasn’t doing a good job at getting it, because Papa wouldn’t worry about my future or of widowing me if the war was between them.

“It’s okay,” I said, gathering enough courage. “I’ll talk to him in . . . private. Ten minutes is the least you can offer me to get to know the man I’ll be spending my entire life with.”

Papa didn’t argue, but I was sure he caught the meaning behind it. I was so mad at him for making me do this. For bartering me off to the first man who extended a hand to me. And worse, I wasn’t offered a chance to know him.

I met Eros’s gaze and my body trembled at the intensity of them. He was like Eros, the Greek god of carnal pleasures, with deadly blue eyes and an equally searing aura oozing from him that could kindle certain feeling inside anyone’s body, which was precisely why his name had suited him so well.

These ten minutes with a man like him could help me get a clear view of the life he would offer. These ten minutes could either be the worst mistake of my life or the best. Depending on who Eros Castellanos really was.