Chapter 5

Catalina

Two weeks before the wedding, many women from Dario’s family flew to Southern California for my bridal shower. It seemed odd to be celebrating with women I didn’t know in preparation for a marriage to a man I knew less. I hadn’t seen or spoken to Dario during the last nearly six months. However, he’d sent me expensive jewelry for Christmas and my birthday in March.

Mireya and Aunt Maria held my shower at an upscale restaurant in San Diego. Originally, they wanted to host it at their home, but Uncle Nicolas refused to allow the famiglia in his home. If I could believe Em, there were more than a few of the higher cartel officers unhappy about Patron’s deal. In a nutshell, the officers believed that after the wedding, the Italians wouldn’t hold up their end of the bargain.

“What does that mean for me?” I’d asked my brother the morning of my shower when we were alone.

His forehead crinkled with concern. “I think it means you should change your mind.”

“I can’t.” It wasn’t that I hadn’t thought about changing my mind many times; it was that doing so would reflect poorly on Patron and Papá. If I backed out, it was the cartel breaking the deal. If the Italians didn’t follow through, it would be them breaking the deal.

Em reached for my elbow. “I have some money. Papá doesn’t know, but I can send you away.”

“Where?” I asked incredulously. “Down to Mexico where Patron will find me?”

“Europe,” he offered.

“Like the Lucianos don’t have connections in Italy. If I run, it won’t only reflect poorly on us, but on the famiglia, too.”

“You don’t owe anything to Dario Luciano. What has he done other than give you that giant rock on your hand and a few expensive pieces of jewelry?”

“He’s busy.” It was what I’d been told. “Dario is supposed to take over for his father shortly after the wedding. There’s a lot that goes into a power change.”

Em furrowed his brow. “What do you know about what goes on in the Mafia?”

“I’ve been trying to learn.” When Em just looked at me, I went on, “I want my marriage to work.” Now and forever. “This may not be my decision, but I have the choice to do all I can to make it succeed.” I was relaying the self-talk I’d had with myself many times. “I can be more than a wife on paper, one that gives Dario stability.” I’d heard that term too many times. “I want to be what he needs. To do that, I need to understand his life.”

“You will be nothing more than his wife on paper, a testament of the alliance. Men like Dario don’t spend their time working on their marriage. I’d bet he has a mistress or regular whores who keep him satisfied. Don’t fool yourself. He’s not taking a wife to love.”

I knew that my brother was speaking the truth. That didn’t mean it didn’t hurt.

“Cat, we can’t trust them. They’re going to cheat us, and then they’ll have you.”

“Patron trusted them enough to make this deal.”

Em clenched his teeth, his jaw tightening. “Once you’re married, you’ll belong to them. Papá can’t save you. I’m not supposed to save you.”

“I don’t plan on needing to be saved.”

My brother lowered his voice. “I will though. I don’t give a fuck. If he treats you…if he does anything…”

I reached for Em’s arm. “I love you, too.”

The two of us were less than two years apart in age, and while Camila and I had a bond, there was something possibly stronger between Emiliano and me.

“Fuck.” He pulled his arm away and ran his fingers through his dark mop. “There’s something I should have told you.” He paused. “Nick told me Dario went to Wanderland with others from the famiglia when they were here for the engagement.” Nick was our cousin and Mireya’s older brother. He was a year older than Em. Like Em, after high school—or probably before—Nick went straight into the family business, working for their father, Uncle Nicolas.

Wanderland was a cartel strip club in Uncle Nicolas’s jurisdiction that catered to wealthier clientele. I’d never been there, but I’d heard about it, mostly from Em.

“That was six months ago,” I said. “You’re telling me now.”

“What would you have done with the information? Call off the wedding because Dario likes strippers and…”

“And” —I inhaled— “he used a back room.” It wasn’t really a question. Even the women in our family knew about the private entertainment available in back rooms.

Em’s gaze darkened. “The whore was in bad shape. Dario paid extra for her missed work.”

My stomach lurched. “He hurt her?”

Em lifted his hands. “It’s what Nick told me. No one is backing up the story, but no one is denying it either. Even the whore won’t talk. The Lucianos know how to buy silence. I’m sure Patron and Vincent don’t want the publicity, either.”

I sat down on the sofa in our living room.

Em crouched down near my knees. “Listen, it’s not too late. You leave the country and there’s trouble. That bastard hurts you and I kill him. Seems like there’s trouble either way. Think of it as saving his life.”

Tears threatened my makeup. Mama, Camila, and I had spent the morning at the spa. “I can’t back out.” I met my brother’s stare. “I’m not weak, Em. I’m not. I want the marriage to work, but I won’t be abused.” I had a thought. “Remember when you taught me how to use your knife?”

Em nodded. “I remember.”

“Is it bad luck to give someone a knife as a wedding gift?”

Em smiled. “I’m not sure, but if you’ll take it, I can loan you one.”

My brother was known within and beyond the cartel for his skill with knives. As he put it, they were quieter than guns and more satisfying.

“Maybe in the next two weeks you can give me a few more lessons?”

“Cat, you wouldn’t kill a person.”

I shrugged. “Maybe I’d only wound him.”

“No. If you want lessons, you have to promise me that if you need to use it, you’ll go for the kill. It’s the only way.”

“I guess you don’t need to look for a wedding gift.”

An hour later, with a smile plastered on my lips, I sat surrounded by the women of my and Dario’s family. His mother and sister were present, along with numerous cousins and aunts. There were also non-relatives, wives and daughters of top-ranking Mafia men in their famiglia. I tried to remember names, but decided with all I had on my mind, it was a futile task.

Mia, Dario’s sister, sat to one side of me and Camila on the other. Together they compiled the appropriate list of gifts and names for my future thank-you notes. Mireya was beside Camila with Aunt Maria to her side. Our cousin Sofia, a year younger than Camila, was also present. Her father was the youngest brother of the Ruiz lieutenants. They lived in Northern California and sadly, Sofia’s mother had passed away about a year ago and Sofia still seemed sad.

Not to be outdone by the famiglia, wives and daughters of high-ranking cartel members were also in attendance. Before I’d been told about my own wedding, Papá had said Uncle Gerardo would need to remarry after a respectable length of time. I wondered if any of the single women in attendance were on my uncle’s menu.

It was as I opened Mia’s gift that I felt the temperature rise.

The gift was no doubt luxurious as shown by the Saks emblem holding the tissue paper in place. Opening the box, I moved the tissue paper to find the skimpiest lingerie I’d ever seen in my life. My cheeks warmed as I lifted the sheer teddy and robe set, complete with a nearly sheer G-string panty.

The room applauded in appreciation.

Closing the box, I looked to my future sister-in-law. “Thank you.”

“I have it on good authority Dario likes confident women.” She pointed to the gift. “That says confident.”

My gaze went to my cousin’s, praying there was a way for us to sneak away and put all of this off for another few months. Maybe that would give me time to learn more about my fiancé than I could from his sister or from rumors of him at Wanderland.

Mireya smiled a supporting grin. “Confident.”

After the gifts, the waiters refilled our champagne glasses and invited everyone to visit the buffet filled with vegetable appetizers, fruit kabobs, and cakes. It was the first family shower I’d attended that didn’t have more traditional foods such as tacos, tamales, and chiles relleno.

Mireya must have noticed my expression. She reached for my elbow and whispered, “Mama thought a more generic menu would work for Dario’s family.”

I didn’t care about the food. Scanning the room to be sure we weren’t overheard, I softly asked, “Has Nick told you anything about Dario and Wanderland?”

Mireya’s eyes grew wide. “No, but I wouldn’t be surprised. I’m sure the cartel wanted to show the Lucianos a good time. It’s our top club.” Her expression changed. “What did you hear?”

I shook my head. “Em said something, but it doesn’t mesh with the man I met.” I looked down at my ring. Could I really make assumptions about a man I’d spoken to one time?

“Em’s unhappy about the wedding. Nick told me that Patron wanted to put together a bachelor party for Dario and he refused.”

I sucked in a breath. “Dario refused Patron?”

Mireya nodded.

A tight sensation in my chest impeded my breaths. “Was Patron offended?” By my fiancé…?

“Nick said it wasn’t a big deal. Patron figured Dario would rather spend time with his own whores than the cartel’s. Personally, I think a bachelor party was a bad idea. Cartel and Mafia men together drinking…the wedding will be bad enough.” Before I could reply, Mireya added, “I’m sorry, Cat. The wedding won’t be bad.”

I lowered my voice as I thought about Patron’s assessment. “Why does everyone think Dario is out fucking everyone who walks?”

“Maybe because he’s a man,” Mireya said with a shrug.

Before we could discuss it further, Mia joined our conversation.

“Catalina,” she said, coming up beside me. “The champagne is wonderful. And here we were expecting margaritas.”

My teeth clenched.  

“I’ll ask the waiter if you want one,” Mireya said in a strained voice.

“No. I was joking.” She waved the air. Despite being Dario’s sister, Mia had lighter hair than her brother, more like her mother’s. “I didn’t mean to embarrass you with that gift.”

Again, my cheeks warmed. “I’m fine. I’ll be married soon. I should get used to it. Obviously, I don’t know Dario well or the kind of woman he prefers.”

Mia’s lips pressed together. “Dario is a private man. He isn’t a saint. I’m sure you realize that there have been other women before and after Josie.”

Josie?

Mireya stepped forward. “As long as those women are past tense.”

Mia seemed surprised by Mireya’s straightforwardness.

“Mia,” I said, “this is my cousin Mireya. She’s only looking out for me.”

“Well,” Mia said to both of us, “I didn’t say that to make you jealous. There’s nothing to look out for. Dario has a job to do, and you’ll help him do that. Forget what I said about other women.”

Forget.

That was unlikely.

“Josie?” I asked.

Mia waved her hand. “I shouldn’t have mentioned her. I wouldn’t bring her up to Dario. Not a good subject.”

“Were they married?”

“Oh no. Father would never have allowed that. Dario is a man who strives to live by his own rules. That time is over. He’s about to be capo.”

“Doesn’t the capo make the rules?” I asked.