Chapter 4

I’m sitting at the breakfast table, trying to bury myself in my work.  I am in charge of author acquisition and public relations at Rothschild's Reads.  

We’re supposed to have a debut gala for a group of authors that just did some fictional stories about living through quarantine.  One is a murder mystery, one is a romance, one is an alien abduction story, and the final is a science fiction book about parallel universes.  The gala is in a few weeks and we just had the venue pull out because they just found structural damage all throughout the building.

Even though it’s only breakfast, I’ve already been in crisis mode for the past hour when my assistant called me at 6 am.

“Call the Botanical Gardens, Julianne over at the events center for Central Park, Kendall at the Angel Orensanz Foundation, and any restaurant that you can think of.  I’ll call Emily as soon as I’m on my way to work,” I tell my assistant, Grayson.

“I’ll get right on it,” he says, urgency heavy in his voice.

“Gray!” I call to him before he can hang up.  “It’s 7:30!  Wait until at least 8.”

“Oh, right,” he says.  “Alright, I’ll do some research while I wait.”

“Are you already at work, Gray?” I ask him.

“Yeah…” he says, quietly.

“And when did you get in today?” I ask, sitting down at the breakfast table.

“I was pulling in just as I was calling you,” he mutters.  “I had gotten an alert while I was getting ready to go to the gym, so I just changed and headed into work.”

“You’ll be leaving at 2:00 then,” I say.

“But we’re in panic mode - “ he starts to say.

“Doesn’t matter.  You’re time is from 9 to 5 and you’ve already pulled all the overtime that I allow you for the month.  You need a life outside of this job, ok?  And you didn’t go to the gym this morning.  You can go this afternoon,” I tell him.

I hear him sigh loudly over the phone.  “Fine, but that means that I’m finding a new venue today.”

I chuckle, “Sounds good to me.  I’ll see you soon.”

I sit down at the breakfast table, my father and brother staring at me.

“What’s going on?” Stefan asks, his voice concerned.

“Nothing for you to worry about.  It’ll be included in the weekly summary on Friday,” I say, smartly.  

Stefan has been trying to talk to me ever since that disastrous meeting last night and I really just can’t.  He’s selling me out for the betterment of the business.

I’m not saying that I wouldn’t have willingly done what is being asked of me if given a choice.  What I am saying is that I would have liked to be included on the decision and have pumped the breaks just a bit.  Maybe I would have picked the younger Luciano brother.  

Granted, Rocco Lucianno is still in graduate school earning his MBA, but he’s only three years younger than me and by all accounts a more reputable man than his older brother.  He would have been a better match for me and my family.  

Of course, that might be why the Don is marrying me off to Dante in the first place.

Before Stefan can say anything, Father interrupts.  “Well, I hope that it’s something that your assistant can handle.  Don Luciano has invited us to his home this morning.”

“Actually, it isn’t.  I need to be in the office as much as possible for today in order to handle some business,” I say as I make a plate from the food that our cook, Jamille, made for us.

“It’s not a request,” Father snaps out.  “We are to go over the contracts for the merger and for your marriage.”

I turn, quirking a brow at my father.  “He wants me to sign a prenup?”

“Not exactly,” Father replies, but he refuses to say anything else.

So that’s how I’m standing at the entrance to the Luciano household instead of in the office, helping Grayson figure out this vendor shit.  I know that he’s going absolutely insane by the vast number of texts that I’m getting saying everything that is booked.  Thank God that he knows my best friend, Emily, well enough that the two of them are having lunch and hopefully working all of this out.  Emily is an event planner here in the city and she can work miracles.  Hopefully she’ll work one today.

The problem with a venue shift is that some venues will only work with certain vendors, so this could literally fuck us over royally.  And with only three weeks until the gala, we’re in major crunch time.  We’ve got to figure this out today so that we can have everything taken care of by the end of the week in time to send out invitations.

The door is opened by a butler and we are escorted to Don Luciano’s office.  Sitting in the room are the Don, his wife, Emila Luciano, several men who have to be lawyers, and my fiancé .  

How can Dante Luciano be such a vile man and still look so deliciously rumpled?  He looks like his hair has just been combed through with his fingers, his shirt is wrinkled and unbuttoned to show a deep vee that showcases his pecs, and he hasn’t shaved.  In short, he looks like he’s just rolled out of bed and it’s a sight that I wouldn’t kick out of bed.

I mentally shake myself when his dark brown eyes turn towards me and divert my gaze from him.  I won’t give him the satisfaction of my lust for him.

And I don’t think I’d be able to go through with whatever this is if I were to see the hatred in his eyes again.

“Ah, Julian and Stefan, welcome!  Come and sit.”  I’m a little surprised that he doesn’t welcome me, but both he and his wife walk over to me, Mrs. Luciano with a bright smile on her face.

“Darling!  It’s such a pleasure to meet you!” Mrs. Luciano says, pulling me into a huge hug before planting air kisses on either side of my face, like the high society women do.

I’m a bit stunned, but years in high society have taught me how to hide my emotions.  I reciprocate the greeting.  “It’s nice to meet you as well, Mrs. Luciano.”

“None of that, passerotta (sparrow),” the Don booms from beside me, a large grin on his face.  “For now, I will accept Rafel and Emilia, but eventually we will be Mama and Papa.”

My eyes widen at that.  This criminal mastermind really expects me to call him “Papa.”  It’s all that I can do not to laugh in the man’s face.

I think that my astonishment is the only thing that stops me from realizing that Dante is beside me until I feel his hand on the small of my back.  I automatically straighten and start to pull away from him before his hand slips to my waist where he pulls me against him.

“I think that might be a little soon, Padre,” Dante’s smooth voice says.  “How about we go over the contract requirements before we get too far into this whole thing?”

His father and mother make noises of acquiescence and move back to their seats at the table.

“I can’t believe that you are making me sign a prenup.  I don’t want your fucking money, Dante!” I hiss low enough that he’s the only one that can hear me.

I only look at him out of the corner of my eye, but I can see the smirk on his face.  “Not a prenup,cara mia (my dear).  A contract.  Part of the business agreement that you must keep up in order for us to help your failing family business.”