Page 18 of Dark Breaker

“I already told you I’m not going through with this!” I tell him.

Massimo pauses the movie. He won’t meet my eye. “Giovanni Amato agreed it was the best solution.”

“So your in-law is our boss now?” I sputter.

Massimo sighs. “I tried. I really did. But Raffaele insisted that tying our families together was the only way we’d avoid killing each other. Giovanni agreed. And I kind of did, as well. Fabio, on the other hand, was furious.”

“He didn’t seem so furious tonight,” I tell him.

“Is he bothering you?” Massimo asks. “Do I need to talk to him?” When Massimo “talks” to someone, it usually involves fists and broken bones.

I sigh. “No. Not really. Nothing I can’t handle. At least you didn’t give him my phone number.”

“Actually… I did,” Massimo replies.

I slump, and then sit next to Angela. I hold her hand.

“It’s going to be okay,” Angela tells me.

“Don’t tell me you’re siding with Massimo now, too?” I ask.

Angela shakes her head. “Of course not. You do you. If you don’t want to marry him, then don’t. The alliance be damned.”

I close my eyes, shake my head. “That’s the thing. I don’t want any of you to get hurt. I feel like I have to go through with this.”

I look at Angela imploringly, but she has no answer for me. She knows I’m right. If I don’t marry Fabio, there will be war between us, even if we have some temporary alliance now. I won’t see my brothers get hurt. I won’t!

I think back on how Fabio looked tonight when he stalked me on the ferry. He was wearing a T-shirt and jeans, so I almost didn’t recognize him at first. I didn’t expect him to be so muscular under the tuxedo he was wearing the other day. Nor did I expect him to have so many tattoos. They stop at his wrists, and before reaching the base of his neck, so he can rock suits without anybody knowing about them. Interesting.

He was kinda hot with that dark hair tumbling in curls around his face, rather than constrained inside a fedora. His jaw was so chiseled, and I never really noticed before how far his chin juts out in front of his face. He’s the kind of guy you’d expect to find leading a football team. Or a group of assassins.

His clumsy efforts at romance were a bit cute, I admit. That breast comment was even almost endearing, in a weird way. And I like weird, so that’s certainly a brownie point in his favor.

Still, I don’t like the idea of marrying a man who’s otherwise a stranger.

I remember Massimo’s response to that yesterday. “Then get to know him.”

“I’d really rather not,” I told him. “I’ve seen enough.”

And I meant it. Still do. I have no intention of seeing Fabio again before the so-called wedding, assuming it actually takes place. I’ll go to that stupid fundraiser they want me to go to, and that’ll be it. Maybe I’ll do something crazy, something to embarrass the hell out of Fabio. Something that will make both families so ashamed of me they’ll call off the wedding.

But I know I can’t. For my brothers. I owe them everything. If it weren’t for them I’d still be living on the streets, stealing food and picking pockets to stay alive.

“We can take care of ourselves,” Luciano says suddenly. “If you don’t want to marry him, then don’t. So what if there’s a fucking war? We’ll drag the Amatos in, and a whole lot of D’Alimontes will die. You remember what we did to the Rizzos don’t you?”

I smile sadly. We got lucky that time. Lucky because neither my brothers, nor Angela’s, were seriously injured. Any one of them could have been killed. I know that.

And I won’t risk a similar war happening again.

“No,” I say. “I’ll go through with it. I guess.”

I just wish Fabio wasn’t such an arrogant man who seems to think the world revolves around and owes him.

“It’s all right to change your mind,” Luciano tells me.

I chuckle. “Oh I know. I’ll probably waver back and forth right up until the wedding day. And then just like that I’ll be married, with no turning back.”

Luciano shrugs. “There’s always divorce.”