Page 25

I walk out of the room without another word. I don’t even turn back to make sure she’s okay. We have no relationship beyond what the papers say.

I close the door and let out a breath I hadn’t realized I was holding. For the first time since this fucking day began, I can breathe. The entire day has been nothing short of a shitshow, from the runaway groom to now having a wife.

I glare down at the ring on my finger. The thing feels more like a shackle than a symbol of love or loyalty.

“Fucking hell.”

My voice echoes through the empty halls of the Faravelli estate. Everyone is likely asleep—or hiding in their rooms, much like I want to be.

But first… I need to take the edge off.

I make my way down the stairs and into the kitchen, where I find Marcello’s less-than-stellar liquor collection. It’ll have to do for now. I pour myself a glass and head out through the sliding doors that lead to the back porch.

This is the only peace today will afford me.

Tomorrow, when the sun rises, there will be a long list of fires to put out. I’ll need to account for my son and his disappearance. I’ll need to make sure all loose ends are tied up before we leave.

And most importantly, I’ll need to keep my new bride alive.

I saw the reactions at the wedding.

The vultures may not be circling just yet—but they’re close.

They can smell the tension in the air.

“Are you not meant to be in bed with my daughter, Matteo?”

His voice catches me off guard. I glance to the side and find him by the sliding door of the kitchen. He’s still in his dress pants and shirt, but he looks far more disheveled than he did at the ceremony.

I don’t bother sitting up in my chair.

“I see you found my liquor supply.”

I raise the glass in the air. “It tastes like shit. When you left New York, did you also lose your taste for the finer things in life? You’ve had better whiskey in my basement, Faravelli.”

I glance back at my old friend, and he manages to let out a low smirk—against his will, I’m sure.

We’ve known each other a long time, and never in a million years did he expect me to marry his daughter .

He simply walks onto the porch and takes the chair beside mine that looks out to the yard.

The moon kisses the surface of the pool, casting a gentle blue hue over the area. You can hear the whistle of the crickets and the soft hum of the summer breeze weaving through the trees.

“You are married to my daughter.”

Those are the first words that come from my father-in-law.

“Yup.” I sip on the bitter liquid. “I know you pictured me joining your family a little differently. But we are family now, Faravelli—and my word still holds. From this day forward, you are under the protection of the Davacalli name. Your daughterwill want for nothing. She will be the most protected woman on the East Coast—if not the entire country.”

Marcello remains quiet. He looks out over the water, his face pulled tight in a deep frown.

“You can’t even keep your son in check. How can I trust you to keep your word when it comes to my daughter?”

I pause, my glass halfway to my mouth. “I was caught off guard. But make no mistake—my son will answer for what he’s done.”

He scoffs. “You’re meant to be the most feared man in the world, and yet you can’t keep a leash on your own boy? I am not happy, Matteo.”

“And neither am I.” I glance back at him. “What happened is unfortunate, but you still got what you wanted. The Davacalli name. Our resources. They’re yours now. The picture may not look exactly how you imagined, but you know me, Marcello. I’m not a man who would ever dishonor your daughter or shame her. She’s in good hands. Trust is a rarity in our world, but I’m asking you for it—just this once.”