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I slid my butt onto the barstool. This was interesting. “And you do everything the family tells you?”

Divina pushed the platter of bacon toward me but kept her eyes on the plate. “Yes.”

“Don’t you have kids to mind?”

I didn’t miss the sadness that flashed through her face. “Maybe next year.”

“Do you want kids?” I shook my head. “I’m sorry. It’s none of my business.” I picked up a slice of bacon and started munching.

“Actually it is,” she said.

Wait? What? I furrowed my brows at her. “Explain.”

“Sandro is now the don, and you’re his wife.”

“Yes, but that doesn’t give us the right to tell you when to start a family of your own.”

She laughed a bit nervously. “No. No. Not at all. Tommy needs my support to settle in the next don and his wife. It was never the right time to have kids.” She huffed heavily. “There was so much turmoil in the organization to find a stable leader.”

“You lost two in the last two years.”

“But Tommy feels now that Gian is not going to be boss.” She gave me a hopeful look. “I’ll have a little bambino of my own soon.”

Ah, hell no. “Divina …” I didn’t know what to tell her. I had no plans to stay married to Sandro. I didn’t know how to get out of it yet. But he represented everything my father was against. “You know the circumstances about how Sandro and I got married.”

“I know. He was your childhood friend.”

Jeez. That was how she was looking at it? The disconnect was disconcerting. It was like I was trapped in a dark comedy. “They threatened my brother’s life.”

“Yes, but Sandro saved you from marrying Gian.”

“I can’t even speak to my family.” Then something occurred to me. “Wait a second. Are you saying this is a normal thing that happens in this family?”

She gave me a smile that confirmed it, but also a smile that said I was making a big fuss over nothing. Were all the Rossi women brainwashed to do their men’s bidding? I thought about Griselda. She stood by and watched Sandro marry me. She skewered me with a stare that, if it had real venom, would’ve killed me. I said my vows but she didn’t object at all when the padre asked if anyone was against the marriage. Come to think of it, I didn’t remember the priest asking if anyone objected.

The ceremony was a complete haze.

“I just warmed this up.” She nudged a basket in front of me. “There are bagels, croissants, and muffins in there.” Thinking of croissants reminded me of Renz.

“Have the guys eaten?” I asked, falling back into polite courtesy.

“No. Actually, I was supposed to let Sandro know when you’re awake.”

“No need,” a voice spoke from the opening of the kitchen.

I turned in my seat to see Sandro and Tommy striding in. But my attention was solely on my new husband. He had such a commanding presence, impossible to miss, yet he could choose to be invisible if he wanted to be.

He prowled to my side and kissed the top of my head. “Did you sleep okay?”

“Yes.”

“Good. We have things to discuss.” He plopped a jewelry box in front of me.

I didn’t even need to ask him what it was. Still, when I flipped open the lid on the box, I was shocked at the size of the diamond. “We don’t have to do this.”

Irritation flashed across his face. He took the ring and jammed it on my finger, joining it to my wedding band. “Yes, we do. Get used to wearing it so you can prove to your family that I didn’t skimp on the ring.”

It was the most unromantic thing a man could do and yet I found it hot. For the first time since this ordeal started, his actions warmed my cheeks. But I was determined not to fall into Stockholm syndrome. I had standards, dammit. A big-ass ring wasn’t going to make this fucked-up situation okay.