CHAPTER 2

VALENTINA

Dad was unusually quiet over dinner, his eyes flicking to me every few minutes like he was gearing up to say something but kept losing his nerve. Mom, on the other hand, looked like she’d just been handed front-row seats to Paris Fashion Week.

When I finished eating, I waited for Dad’s nod to leave the table. I was itching to get back to the painting I’d started that morning. With the last week of my second semester officially behind me, I’d been pouring most of my free time into practicing my art.

Finally, Dad cleared his throat. “We need to discuss something with you.”

“Alright…” I said slowly. The last time a conversation started like this, he’d blindsided me with news about my fiancé running off with a prostitute. I’d been elated, but of course I couldn’t tell dad that. My mother had spent the entire week in tears, talking about how her enemies would never stop mocking her now. I’d just turned nineteen at the time, but apparently, having no fiancée was scandalous.

“We’ve chosen a new husband for you.”

“Oh.” The word slipped out before I could stop it. It wasn’t exactly shocking. I’d known this day would come sooner rather than later, but considering my age and the fact that I’d just started college, I’d naïvely hoped they might at least let me have a say in who I’d be tied to for life.

“He’s an Underboss!” Mom announced, practically glowing with pride.

My eyebrows shot up. Well, that explained her excitement. My late fiancé had only been the son of a Captain — respectable enough, but nothing worth bragging about in Mom’s eyes.

I sifted through my mental roster of Underbosses, searching for one even remotely close to my age. I came up empty. “Who is it?”

Dad’s gaze shifted to the table. “Adrian De Luca.”

My lips parted in shock. Dad had mentioned his name more than once when he needed someone to unload business frustrations on. Mom tuned out anything that didn’t involve social events or designer labels.

Adrian De Luca’s name had been circulating like wildfire these past few months. The most feared Underboss in the Chicago Mafia had “lost” his wife and was now left with two young children. The whispers surrounding her death were endless. Some claimed Adrian had flown into a rage and killed her himself; others insisted she’d withered away under his cold, controlling hand. A few even whispered she’d ended her own life to escape him.

None of those rumors made me want to meet the man, let alone marry him.

“Isn’t he a lot older than me?” I finally managed to ask.

“Ten years,” Mom corrected briskly, her lips curling into a smile. “He’s in his prime, Valentina. You should be grateful.”

“Why would he want to marry me?”

I’d never met the man, he didn’t know anything about me either. And even worse, I didn’t know the first thing about raising children.

“You’re a Romano. You know how beneficial the merging of two powerful families like ours could be.” Mom said.

“What about college? I just started. I’m only in my second semester. How can I get married right now?”

Mom looked at Dad in irritation. “I told you, didn’t I? You should’ve never let her go to college. It would only put ideas in her head.” Then she turned to me. “The women in our world do not bother themselves with college. Your ultimate goal should be creating a happy household.”

I glanced at Dad and waited for him to disagree, but he kept his eyes fixed on his glass of wine. The last thing he’d ever said about Adrian De Luca was that the Boss had made him Underboss because they were cut from the same cloth — ruthless, merciless, and built like predators who always got their kill.

And now he was handing me over to a man like that.

“When?” I asked, my voice steady even though my stomach twisted. Judging by Mom’s glow, every last detail was probably already set in stone.

“The day after your birthday,” she said without missing a beat.

“I’m honestly surprised you waited until I was of legal age,” I said dryly. “It’s not like the Mafia’s known for following the law.”

Mom’s mouth tightened. “You’d better lose that sharp tongue before you meet Adrian. A man like him won’t tolerate a disrespectful wife.”

Beneath the table, my hands curled into fists. I had no doubt this marriage had been her idea from the start. She was forever scheming to push our family higher up in the ranks of the Chicago Mafia.

She smiled like she’d just secured the crown jewel of her matchmaking career and rose from her seat. “I should start scouting venues before any of the other families snatch them up. This will be the wedding of the year.”

She patted my cheek as if I were some prize winning show dog she’d just paraded in front of judges. When she caught the unimpressed look on my face, her smile faltered. “I’m not sure Adrian will appreciate that sulky attitude… or that hairstyle.”

“She looks fine, Isabelle,” Dad said, his tone carrying a rare edge.

“She looks pretty and young, but not refined or womanly,” Mom countered.

“If Adrian wants a lady, maybe he should stop trying to marry a minor,” I muttered under my breath.

Mom’s hand flew to her chest like I’d just stabbed her in the heart. Dad coughed, but the twitch of his lips betrayed his amusement.

She wasn’t fooled. “You’d better talk some sense into your daughter,” she snapped, wagging a manicured finger at him. “You know Adrian. I’ve always told you to be stricter with her.”

With that, she swished out of the room, her long skirt trailing behind her like the final word in an argument.

Dad let out a slow sigh, his shoulders dipping as if the weight of the conversation was finally pressing on him. “Your mother only wants the best for you.”

I gave him a flat look. “She wants what’s best for her place in the Mafia. How exactly is marrying me off to a ruthless old man supposed to be good for me?”

“Come on,” he said, pushing back from the table. “Let’s take a walk in the garden.”

I trailed after him, slipping my arm into his when he offered it. The heavy summer air wrapped around us the moment we stepped outside, warm and suffocating.

“Adrian isn’t old, Valentina,” Dad said. “He’s thirty one.”

I searched my mind for what men in that age range looked like, but I’d never paid much attention to them, at least, not the ones from our world. Wasn’t Rico, our Don, around that age? The thought made my stomach knot. My uncle was a very dangerous and unforgiving man. If Adrian was anything like him…

What if he was some cruel, heavyset brute with dead eyes?

I glanced up at Dad, hoping he’d give something away. His dark eyes softened. “Don’t look at me like I’ve betrayed you. Being Adrian De Luca’s wife isn’t as terrible as you think.”

I narrowed my eyes. “Cruel. That’s what you called him once. Don’t you remember?”

A flicker of guilt passed over his face. “To his enemies and to people who double cross him,” he said. “Not to you.”

“How can you be sure? How did his wife suddenly die? How? What if he killed her? Or treated her so badly she chose the easy way out?” My voice cracked, and I forced in a breath to steady it.

Dad brushed my bangs away from my face, his expression softening. “I’ve never seen you so frightened.” He exhaled heavily. “Rico swore to me that Adrian had nothing to do with Serena’s death.”

I shot him a look. “Do you even trust Uncle Rico? You’ve told me yourself he’s been trying to tighten his grip on power.”

“There’s a lot of things I shouldn’t have told you.”

“And how can Uncle Rico be so sure? You know how it works. No one interferes in another man’s household, not even the Don.”

Dad’s hands settled firmly on my shoulders. “Adrian won’t touch you if he knows what’s good for him.”

We both knew those were just words. Once I was married, Dad would have no say over my fate. And the truth was, he wasn’t the kind of man to risk his life for a fight he couldn’t win. The Don trusted Adrian more than he ever trusted my father. If it came down to a choice between them… Dad wouldn’t last a day.

“He’s coming to meet you tomorrow.”

I froze, stepping back as if I’d been slapped. “What?”