Page 8 of A Touch of Fate

I wheeled closer. “My sentiments toward an engagement that’s probably never going to happen?

” The moment the bitter words left my mouth, I wanted to slap myself.

I didn’t like it when I turned bitter. That Cincinatti had broken our families’ promise that we’d marry had stung, and my options were slim, but my happiness didn’t depend on marriage.

At least, I tried to tell myself this as often as possible, especially now that I was at an age when most other girls were already promised.

Sweet sixteen. I wasn’t sure who’d invented that term, but they’d probably never heard the jibing comments of older female relatives who made sixteen sound like the tipping point before you turned rotten and unmarriageable.

I often felt left out. When girls my age talked about how guys checked them out, I always felt a pang.

I’d had boys give me flirty looks before, but they hadn’t been part of our world where everyone just seemed to look at my wheelchair and not the person inside.

It frustrated me, but I wasn’t sure how to change people’s perception.

“No,” Danilo said slowly. He stood and squatted before me like he often did when we had something unpleasant to discuss. I narrowed my eyes, wondering what was going on. “The Miones and I came to an understanding.”

“Okay,” I said slowly. Sofia was a Mione, but I didn’t understand his strange behavior if this was about his engagement to Sofia.

Danilo met my gaze and took my hands. Now I was really concerned. “Pietro, Samuel, and I agreed that you would marry Samuel.”

Samuel Mione.

Future Underboss.

Ice prince.

I had only talked to him once, and the memory washed over me like an icy flood.

Samuel and his father attended Dad’s funeral like all Underbosses of the Outfit.

Samuel stood out from the crowd with his blue eyes, blond hair, and tall frame.

Many girls fancied him. Now he looked tired, with dark shadows under his eyes and a haunted expression on his face.

Ever since his sister had run off to join the Camorra, he’d looked like that. It must have been hard for him.

He and his father shook hands with Danilo before they turned to me.

“My condolences,” Samuel said, meeting my gaze. He was one of the very few who looked me in the eyes. Most people seemed uncomfortable to do so—either because of my grief or my wheelchair. In most cases, it was probably a combination of the two.

“Thank you,” I said softly. I considered telling him I was sorry about his sister, but I wasn’t sure if that was a good idea. Danilo always got grumpy when I mentioned her, and I had a feeling Samuel felt even worse, considering it was his twin.

Samuel nodded, then returned his gaze to Danilo. The tension between them was palpable. It had gotten much worse in the past year, but Danilo refused to discuss it.

I stared at my brother in the present. My heart began pounding, my ears closing off, my throat feeling tight. Samuel was a good catch, a great catch. Most people in our cruel mafia world would even go as far as to say he was too good a catch for me.

Sometimes I caught myself mimicking those horrible thoughts. Not because I believed that I was worth less because of my wheelchair but because the people in our world thought so.

Women were judged by their, if possible, flawless beauty. To think of a disabled woman as beautiful was unheard of. People’s sight reduced itself to the device supporting me, not the body it held. It wasn’t my job to make them see reason.

Even as a child, I’d heard and understood the whispers when Cincinatti had broken off things.

People had pitied me because I was disabled and doomed to be alone, but nobody had really blamed Cincinatti’s Underboss for wanting the best for his son, which apparently wasn’t me, and protecting him from a childless future at my side.

And now the Miones, now Samuel had chosen me as his wife?

“Why—” I cleared my throat. “Why did he choose me?”

Danilo frowned. “Aren’t you happy?”

Was I happy? I didn’t think so. First of all, I was overwhelmed and suspicious of the arrangement. “Why?”

Danilo pulled his hands away, then got up and perched on the sofa next to me. “Because our families are both important and—”

“Please don’t say it’s to strengthen our bond.”

His mouth twitched in a ghost smile that was gone before it could really manifest. “It’s one reason, of course. It’s always been done this way. You know that.”

“I also know that our families are already bonded because of your engagement to Sofia, and I know I’m not the most sought-after bachelorette on the market. It doesn’t make sense for Samuel to choose me unless he hopes to get bonus points for marrying a cripple.”

“Emma,” Danilo growled, “don’t use that word.”

“I can call myself whatever I want,” I said firmly. I hated the word with every fiber of my being, but it got my point across.

“Samuel wants a good, caring wife, and that’s what you’ll be. He doesn’t care if you’re in a wheelchair.”

I wanted to believe that, but doing so would have been foolish, and I didn’t like being a fool.

“Just be happy, alright? This is good for you. You have a bright future ahead of you with an important husband and a family of your own.”

Most of all, Danilo wouldn’t have to worry about me as much as he would had I stayed a spinster.

Maybe he would even have felt obligated to let me live under the same roof with him and Sofia.

It was better this way—definitely for Danilo and for me too.

Annoyed, I wheeled back until I could turn around. “I need some water.”

“I can get—”

“I’ll get it myself,” I said, moving toward the small kitchen area of the suite.

I opened the minibar and took out one of the tiny San Pellegrino bottles.

I could practically feel Danilo’s questioning gaze burning into my back as I emptied the bottle in a few gulps, not even bothering with a glass.

My annoyance had barely lessened, but I knew I had to continue this conversation.

With a sigh, I put the bottle on the counter, then returned to my brother, who honestly looked confused by my reaction.

Had he thought I’d be overjoyed?

Maybe I should be happier? I promised myself not to doubt Samuel’s decision. “Does Mom know?”

“Of course. She’s delighted. We both are, Emma.”

Of course, she was. She’d been deeply worried that I’d end up alone. Spinsters were looked down upon in our world.

“When will it be announced?” I asked. The news would spread like wildfire, and people would spread rumors just as quickly. This was a bond nobody had expected, and thus, it would be dissected until it was a tattered, dirty thing.

“Tomorrow after my official engagement to Sofia.”

My eyes grew wide in alarm. “You’re going to announce it at your engagement party? What does Sofia say to that? It’s her day, after all.”

“I didn’t ask her. It seems like the best time. After all, we’re here, and it doesn’t make sense to travel all the way to Minneapolis just for an announcement. Samuel and I are both busy.”

“Danilo,” I said in exasperation. I couldn’t believe he hadn’t asked Sofia. “I don’t want to hurt Sofia’s feelings.”

His puzzled expression made it clear that the thought hadn’t even crossed his mind. “It’s just an announcement. And it’s not like it’s our wedding day. Don’t overthink this. Just be happy. In two years, you’ll be Samuel’s wife.”

I forced a smile. “Thank you.” I could tell Danilo was disappointed by my lackluster reaction, but I couldn’t think straight. “I’m going to bed so I’m well rested for my big day tomorrow.”

Danilo pressed a kiss to my cheek like he always did, and I wheeled into my bedroom.

After a deep breath, I moved into the bathroom to change into my nightgown.

I arrested the brakes of my wheelchair, then pushed myself up and scooted down to the edge of the seat.

Twisting to the right, I used my left hand to shove down my skirt, then did the same with the other side until the fabric pooled at my feet.

I lifted one foot after the other, then bent down, picked up my skirt, and put it over the vanity chair.

I removed my pullover, then pulled my nightgown over my head.

Grabbing the handles, I pushed myself up, supporting myself with my legs until the nightgown slid down over my bum before I dropped back into the seat of my wheelchair.

When I was done with my evening routine, I returned to the bedroom.

The mattress was softer than what I was used to at home, so my hand sank in when I tried to slide from my wheelchair into the bed, almost causing me to slip down.

I caught myself and released a sigh. Traveling days were always hard on my body and mind.

For one, they gave me anxiety. I always felt physically drained in the evening of such a day, meaning my legs were less capable of supporting my weight.

Once I lay in the dark, I couldn’t fall asleep for hours.

My thoughts kept revolving around Samuel.

I couldn’t deny it. He would have been my top choice if I could have chosen a husband from the available bachelors.

I didn’t mind that he was eight years older.

I actually preferred it. Maybe it was because of my accident, but I was more mature than boys and even girls my age.

Not to mention that I found Samuel attractive. Really, who didn’t? Many girls in our world talked about his looks. There weren’t many blonds around, and his blue eyes always sent a pleasant shiver down my back. And he was tall and fit…

I bit my lip.