Page 30 of The Mafia's Bride

I don’t give her anything. I can’t. Alessio is still staring at me, and he’s the one I can’t give anymore of my weaknesses.

“Get her another glass,” she directs Hayes. The room stays silent as he returns moments later, a glass of water in front of me.

Right. Because throwing a wine glass means I’m cut off for the rest of the night.

I stare at the heir, daring him to blink. Two minutes. I held my cool for two minutes before he came in and wrecked it.

This is the man I’m fighting for my freedom. He’s smart, controlled, and he knows me better than I thought. I’m not a surprise to him because I told him my plan to get out of this contract. He knew what to expect.

How do I fight someone who knows my plan?

By making a new plan.

Food is plated and quiet conversation commences, ignoring me entirely. People talk about the weather, the aunts say something about table linens, a few words of Italian are thrown around, but I don’t listen. I refuse to participate.

I can’t. I don’t trust what I’ll do now that the sleeping beast of my rage licks higher still.

Alessio has completely screwed with my plans, leaving me floundering for a new path.

I watch him cut into his food, the way he easily answers the women’s questions, how he seems to be charming enough that Collins fawns over him. He winks when she blushes and nods with respect when the conversation turns back to my sister.

He’s so at ease with my family, fitting in better than I do that another uncontrollable urge to slap him emerges.

I grab my water, chugging it just to stop from doing so.

Maeve clears her throat, her plate mostly untouched. “Judging by the way Sloane reacted to your arrival, I’ll take a chance and say you two know each other.” The question is for Alessio, but she’s looking at me, trying to read me.

I won’t let her, as I keep my eyes down.

“We’ve met,” he says pleasantly. When I glare at him, his eyes are fastened on me.

“Welcome to the family then, Alessio,” my sister says dryly. “Let’s see if you’re still standing by the time your wedding comes.”

“I’ll be there,” he returns, eyes scanning me. My flesh heats as if it’s been burned by his intensity. “A little fight never deterred me.”

I hate how his words sound like a promise and a threat.

Taking a deep cleansing breath, I grip the handle of my knife and stab into the lamb someone plated for me. If I’m going to win this, I need a new plan. One my fiancé can’t determine.

He’d never expect me to go through with the marriage.

The bite of meat hangs in front of my mouth, thoughts turning. Alessio’s head tilts, as if he can look right into my brain, see my thoughts, hear my ideas like I’ve yelled them.

If I break the decree, I forfeit my connection to the clan.

But what if I married him and he divorced me? I followed through with the decree. Staying married wasn’t part of the requirement.

If he initiated divorce, the fault would be with him, not me. I’d be free.

My eyes lock onto his, and his amber gaze flickers with a challenge.

He might not know exactly what I have planned, but he certainly knows something is coming. And it’s completely unpredictable.

I’ll marry Alessio. Then I’ll cause such a problem, the likes Pops never saw, to gain a divorce.I’ll be free.

I take a bite of the food, savoring the taste as I smile, my fiancé retuning the gesture, but there’s no love. It’s a challenge, from someone who knows a game is about to start.

He won’t see it coming.