Page 34

“Well considering I’m on the receiving end of the apology, shouldn’t my opinion count more than your ego?”

I huff out a breath. The woman is insufferable. Why do I want to marry her again?

“Fine,” I relent. “I’m sorry for coming home late, Cassandra. Happy?”

“No. But happiness isn’t something you’re capable of providing me,” she says in a matter-of-fact tone.

My eyebrows climb, “Is that a challenge?”

“No. Just forget I said that,” she sighs, sitting up on the couch. “So do I want to know what ‘business’ to so long?”

I don’t reply, keeping my gaze steady.

“Yeah, that’s what I thought,” she states in lieu of an answer from me. “It’s fine though. You’re probably tired. You can turn in for the night.”

“Actually, I’d very much like to talk to you. You said you had questions for me.”

Hazel eyes peruse my expression, waiting, wondering. Finally, she nods once. I settle down into the chair, leaning backward.

“Go on, then. I’m all ears.”

“It’s nothing serious. It’s just… I’m being forced into this marriage. And while I’m pretty sure you know everything thereis to know about me. I know nothing about you. Apart from the fact that you’re an asshole without morals.”

The request is strangely endearing. But I can’t figure out if she’s asking that because she truly does want to get to know me. Or if it’s a ‘know thy enemy kind of situation. I’m going to guess it’s more of the latter. Or maybe she’s just bored.

“There’s definitely things about you I don’t know, Cassandra. Plus, I can always learn it all over again. If you’d let me.”

She blinks before muttering, “You first. Tell me something. Anything you think I should know.”

I ponder that for only a second before deciding to be open. Plus it’s only a matter of time before someone thinks to whisper in her ears about it.

“There are rumors in the Cosa Nostra that I’m not actually a Luciano. That I’m not my father’s son. My parents got married really young. They had an arranged marriage, like we do. Although the difference is they were betrothed from birth. My father became Don at the age of 21. And after he became Don, he was mandated to marry.”

“Okay, first of all, this is not an arranged marriage. This is aforcedmarriage. You’reforcingme to marry you. Is that clear?” she snaps, eyes blazing as she waits for an answer.

I say nothing. Just watch her.

“I’ll take that as a yes,” she mutters, rolling her eyes like she’s two seconds from throwing something at my head.

Then her tone shifts. “When did you become Don, anyway?”

“Nearly ten years ago. Times have changed. Plus, no one can make me do anything.”

“Must be nice.”

I smirk, “Anyway, my parents got married and things seemed fine for a while. But apparently my mother was unfaithful. She cheated on my dad, and the entire Cosa Nostra got wind of it. He protected her though. Made sure she wouldn’t face the repercussions of her actions. But the point is, she got pregnant soon after the whole debacle. And so the rumors started that she was pregnant by her lover.”

“Was she?” Cassandra asks softly, her expression attentive.

My lack of rage or any feelings at all as I tell the story, is a testament to just how well I’ve been able to purge myself of any emotional ties that would drag me down. Make me seem weak.

But I was angry. I grew up with so much rage. And when I took it all out on the cause, I felt nothing in the end. Simply empty for so long.

“No,” I reply. “I am my father’s son. He never treated me like I wasn’t. And maybe he knew the truth because he constantly assured me through my childhood that I was his. A Luciano. But it was never enough. I’ve always valued hard facts, proof, so I finally convinced him to do a DNA test when I was 22. I was sick and tired of people looking at me like I didn’t belong. That rumor nearly cost me everything. There are some people in the Cosa Nostra who till this day don’t believe that I’m fit to be Don.”

“Nonsense, I’m pretty sure there’s no one better suited to be Don,” she says dryly.

I don’t think she meant it as a compliment but I take it as one nonetheless.