Page 37 of Tragic Empire

I swallow, shaking my head. “They probably would have laughed at the thought. They called me a little girl.”

“Little girls with the right connections can do a lot of damage,” Nico states flatly. “They would have been foolish to laugh.”

“The bald one,” I spit his description. “He laughed a lot. Thought the whole thing was funny. Called me a whore, too. He said he didn’t have a taste for torture, but he’d make an exception for Cole because he was mouthy. I hope someone giveshima taste of torture.”

Nico tilts his head, assessing me. “Maybe someone will.”

It almost sounds like a promise.

“Come on, the reception awaits your presence. The sooner you mingle and eat cake, the sooner we can get all of these interlopers out of my house.”

Nodding at his suggestion, I get to my feet and Nico escorts me back to the party. Gone is the aisle with rows of seating—all replaced by long tables and chairs for a proper celebration. He brings me right to my new husband, not stopping to speak to anyone we pass.

Cassio is seated at the head table, and he isn’t entirely alone. In his lap sits the most adorable baby girl dawning a tiny dress the same blue shade as her mother’s. Noticing my appearance, he pulls out the chair next to him and gestures for me to take it.

“Food will be served soon, if you’re hungry.”

Smiling tightly, I dip my head in a nod. “Maybe.”

The truth is, I get hungrier every time I try to eat and fail. I might actually be able to manage a few hefty bites with how empty my stomach feels. I just hope whatever is being served isn’t too heavy.

My eyes catch Isobella as she coos and babbles at Cassio while reaching for his tie to play with. She fumbles with the black fabric, her chubby little fingers molding around it. Seconds later, she’s happily shoving it between her tiny lips and chewing in delight.

“Uncle Armani will not be pleased to see you soiling a Versace tie, piccola,” he tells her without making a move to take the cloth from her mouth.

Isobella seems to give him a gummy grin and giggles like they’re sharing some kind of inside joke.

Cassio tickles the underside of her chin and smiles back. “Yes, I agree, he will have to get over it.”

Seeing such a simple but caring act from my new husband is the most calming thing that’s occurred all evening. It’s not an orchestrated act like the wedding itself, it’s pure and natural—almost soothing to witness.

“She likes you a lot,” I comment, watching the soft exchange between uncle and niece.

I was never overly nervous about being paired with a Moretti son. Nervous to be married at all, and at such a horrible time, yes. But I was thankful my options were amongst the Moretti clan. Mostly because of all the things Jade has told me about them.

They’re incredibly loyal brothers, and from what I can tell, generally good men. Good is subjective in a world full of mafiosos, criminals, and gangsters. And still, as far as arranged husbands go, I’ve practically won the lottery.

I have no fairytale delusions about how my marriage to Cassio will go, but watching him dote on such a small, innocent, and sweet baby reminds me that I have nothing to fear from him.

He knows how to handle people with care, that much is evident. I’m afraid I’m going to need a lot of care, andsoon. The chaos of the wedding has proven to be efficient in distracting me from the dark and depressing monster lurking in my mind, waiting to strike. Not to mention the small dose of mood stabilizer from the Moretti doctor.

Nothing has truly itched at the numbness I’ve been feeling, nothing besides fear and anxiety. But this small moment of peace feels likesomething. Something not so horrible, indeed.

“Isobella likes everyone, she has a soft heart,” Cassio replies diplomatically before letting a small smirk slip. “But I won’t deny being a favorite.”

I can’t help but admire the small girl, seeing the unbridled joy lighting up her face. “She looks just like Jade, don’t you think?”

Cassio chuckles and nods. “Yes, Dante Moretti has the strongest genes known to man. Cesar looks a bit more like Dmitri, at least. He’s got his nose.”

“Cesar may look like Dmitri but his temperament is all Matteo,” I say, surprising myself when I feel a quirk to my lips.

It’s… easy talking to Cassio. At least when it’s about his—nowour—adorable niece and nephew. I suppose it makes sense. Children have always been one of my happy places. Caring for the little ones at the orphanage is the thing that makes me feel fullest.

“Cesar is going to be a terror,” he tells me with a half-dramatic sigh. “We’ve already discovered his infatuation with both pretty girls and explosives.”

My eyes widen, mouth agape. “Explosives?”

“Remo and Matteo were testing out some new Tannerite drone in the backyard last week, Dmitri let Cesar watch from the porch,” Cassio explains, reaching into his pocket for his phone. He spins the device toward me and our fingers lightly brush as I take it.