Chapter 0006

EROS

I was sure Danilo was keeping tabs on us outside this room. Even with Adonis here, he wouldn’t mind shooting a bullet in my head if it came down to his daughter. I respected that.

Mariella stood in one corner of the room, her hands clutching the ends of her sweater. It would be a shame to not notice how beautiful she was. Her golden hair was tied in a high ponytail and she swept the tail to one side of her shoulder. There was barely any makeup on her.

Her eyes wandered everywhere but me. She was trembling with fear and I didn’t blame her. It wasn’t me she feared, though. It was the whole idea of marrying me . . . and not Adonis.

I’d followed both the sisters out of the engagement party because I was concerned. Because I’d seen a flicker of sadness and anger in Mariella's eyes, a terrifying combination. For a while, I’d thought that Mariella was incapable of negative emotions, but this just showed how human she was.

Perhaps she’d thought that her sister had offended me when it wasn’t the case. Surely, I wasn’t expecting to overhear their private conversation about how Mariella’s life is close to ruins because of this marriage.

“You’re standing in the same room as Adonis Vitale, the man you love.” That was all I needed to hear to know what I was about to do wasn’t wrong.

I wouldn’t break this marriage, but I had ways to make this work for both of us. Not for our world or people or duties, but for us. Marriage to her was important for me to strengthen my position, a chore I didn’t want. I had to make this important for her, too. At least mutually beneficial.

“Why are you fidgeting?” I asked, and she snapped her eyes at me.

“No, I—”

“Do I scare you, Mariella?” My tone was weird that I couldn’t even recognise it. It was hoarse and heavy with . . . anticipation? She didn’t answer, but her throat bobbed. “What do you like to do?”

“I beg your pardon.”

“I meant to know what your plans for your future are.”

She regarded me for a long time, her lips shaking and jaw twitching. “If you’re worried about my duties as a wife, I’m more than capable of taking care of the house and everyone that lives in it. I’m good at organising. And I can bend with whatever plans you have.”

The typical answer. I’d never liked the way the women in the Mafia world were raised. I didn’t want a dainty little wife, which was the reason I never wanted to marry one from this world. Ira was different, frank and ambitious.

“Your plans shouldn’t have to bend for someone else other than you, Mariella. And they most certainly have nothing to do with me,” I told her. “Tell me about your ambition, what you want to make of yourself.”

She walked to the single sofa and sat down, looking so fucking dishevelled that my gut churned. Something in her eyes reminded me of the one person I wanted to forget, which made me angrier.

“I like to write. I don’t enjoy telling people I do, but I want to get a book published if I could,” she answered. And for the first time, I saw a spark in her eyes, a hope that she could do it.

“What’s stopping you?” I asked.

Her eyes shifted to the door, and she sighed. “They wouldn’t approve of their daughter writing romance books.” Scratching the colour on her nails, she added, “The only two people who’ve ever read my work are Ara and my friend Niana.”

“Good to know.” That she had more to life than just working after me. I straightened. If she were to be my wife, she needed to know certain things, and that was the only reason for my visit today. “I’m a very open man, Mariella. You’ll have free will to do whatever you want as long as I don’t have to do the cleaning up.”

“I know how to clean up after myself,” she blurted, “not that I make much mess. I’m always cautious of what I do.”

“Of course you are,” I muttered under my breath. “As my wife, you cannot talk about what goes on around me to anyone else, neither your parents nor your sister. No matter how much they persuade you.”

Her brows pressed tightly together. “Why?”

“I’m a very private man. My professional life and personal differ quite a lot,” I explained. “You’ll learn certain things about me and . . . my family, things that very few know. I don’t take it lightly when someone messes my routine and my way of doing things.”

Only a few people inside David’s inner circle knew about who I was to Adonis, about Amara and Elias. Danilo wasn’t one of them, which was for good reasons.

I had no problem with declaring Adonis as my brother, but Adonis didn’t want his enemies to catch up to me or Pa, which was the only reason we’d kept it a secret. Adonis and David had always skipped Danilo and other underbosses from the close events, like Adonis’s reception, where I’d given the drunken speech and declared myself as his brother. Many there thought it was just a metaphor, and he was only a brother to me in the name. But the ones who were aware knew.

“I’ll keep that in mind. But I can’t lie to my parents.”

“Oh, I’m not asking you to lie,” I said with a snigger. “You either tell them or you don’t. It’s a choice. Besides, your parents will understand. You’ll be a Castellanos in a matter of days, and the life you lead as a Romano will become your past.”

She didn’t speak, but sat like an obedient child and nodded her head.

“There are more things that I would like you to know.” I looked at my wristwatch. “But I doubt we have enough time before your daddy dearest bursts in.”

Just then, the door creaked open and Danilo walked in. Mine and Mariella’s eyes met, and I shot a knowing smirk to her.

“Two points for Eros?” I mumbled to Mariella as I stood up.

Her lips twitched, but the laugh never came out. I fucking hated her submissive behaviour, but that was the least of my problems.

My phone vibrated, and I pulled it out. Ira’s name flashed on the screen and I gave a quick glance in Mariella’s direction while she stared down at her hands resting on her knees over the jeans.

In that huge fucking sofa, she looked so tiny. It reminded me she was nothing but a child, an eighteen-year-old with no knowledge of who I was. For a while, all I felt was guilt deep in my chest. But I had my plans set. Nothing could make me change it.

She was the unannounced and I would rather bend her to my comfort than be bent for the sake of some fucked up duty.

***

MARIELLA

I couldn’t sleep, so I sat up, pulled my legs close to my chest, and leaned back on the headboard. My mind was all over the place. I looked at Ara in her bed on the other side of the room, her back turned to me and shoulders heaving gently. She was sound asleep, no worries about her future.

Eros had asked me about my plans. I didn’t really think he would care to know. No one ever did.

I strolled downstairs, wrapping a stole around my nightgown. My stomach growled. Mama had put me into a strict diet until the wedding, and that diet was making me flip out on everything around me. “You can eat anything you want after the wedding,” was all she had as a solution to my hunger.

The sound of the kitchen cupboard opening and closing made my feet halt at the end of the stairs. My heart picked its pace. Our home was secure with Papa’s men always on guard, and the security system checked every week. But one could never be sure. An insider could be an enemy as well.

I tiptoed toward the kitchen with my hands and legs trembling and peeked in to look. It was none other than Papa, going through cupboards, looking tired and groaning in frustration.

Stepping into the kitchen, I cleared my throat and Papa jumped around, his posture on full alert. As soon as his eyes landed on me, he let out a sigh of relief. “For a second, I thought it was your mother.”

“The entire house would’ve woken up if it were.” I raised my brows at him and asked, “Are you hungry?” He nodded. “So am I.”

I strode toward the fridge while Papa stared at me. My papa had always been a conservative man, who never spoke what was truly in his mind, which was why it was often easy to misjudge him. Knowing the burden he carried, I’d always tried to read beyond what he showed. I tried to look into his eyes to know what he truly felt.

Papa’s face lit up as I pulled out the container Mama used to keep leftovers from dinner.

“Parmesan pasta,” I said, opening the lid and drawing it to my nose to take a sniff. “I’ll heat it up.”

Papa nodded and sat on the stool at the island. I heated a pan and poured the pasta into it.

“Why are you up so late?” he asked, his voice much lower than usual. He feared Mama would wake up and yell at both of us. Midnight snacks for Papa were completely forbidden, especially if they were rich in sugar or cheese.

“I couldn’t sleep.” The honest answer. “I was hungry.”

“Only hungry?” I stirred the contents of the pan, hoping he wouldn’t push for an answer. He already knew the reason. His voice laced with adoration as he mentioned, “It feels . . . I don’t know, weird to see you cooking. You’ve grown up.”

“Yeah, I’ll be married in four days.”

Pouring the pasta on both our plates, I returned to the island and sat beside Papa. He looked down at his plate, his eyes flickering with worry and another emotion I couldn’t identify.

“This house will feel so empty without you,” he said in a soft voice. “I still remember how happy I was to see you. You were so small. But letting a daughter go . . . for a father, it’s the hardest.” My eyes stung with tears, but I held onto them with all my power. He went on. “I don’t know what kind of man Eros is, but I believe he’ll keep you happy. He has to.”

He wouldn’t know, even if I wasn’t happy. After the marriage, I wouldn’t be his burden to bear.

I closed my eyes and took a deep breath. “Who is Eros, Papa?”

“He’s a businessman,” he answered, “who became a Mafioso a few years ago. He’s snarky, but he’s a mastermind from what I’ve heard. Some say that there’s nothing that gets overlooked in his presence, which is how he maintains two different lives.”

“Two different lives?”

He nodded. “Just read articles about the Castellanos Industries. No one in the outer world is aware of his status in Cosa Nostra. Well, that was mainly because no one has seen a tattoo on him.”

“But he’ll be initiated after the marriage, which means he’ll have to get the Omerta.”

“Then he’ll just have to keep his shirt on in public,” Dad mocked. “It shouldn’t be that hard.”

“Why is Adonis so lenient toward Eros? He’s been an underboss for five to six years and he hasn’t had an initiation, not a tattoo, nothing. Adonis is Capo. He’s not supposed to be biased toward anyone.”

“Eros Castellanos has secrets, ones that I’m not aware of.” Papa held my shoulders. “Secrets you shouldn’t poke around, Marie. If he’s hiding things, it has to be for a reason. More so because the capo is involved too. And Adonis Vitale is no emotional fool.”

I twisted my head to look at Papa and said, “I’ll miss all of you.”

He didn’t smile or lose the coldness in his eyes, but I knew my words and the thought of me leaving the house bothered him as much as it did me. “We’ll miss you too. This place will always be your home, no matter what.”

He’d meant it with all his heart. But I wasn’t sure if Mama would ever allow me in this house if it was for any other reason than a simple visit. Papa wouldn’t have much say on that, either. Eros’s home would be my home and I could never leave him.

Because I would have nowhere else to go.