Chapter 6

Aristide

The next night, Enzo and I arrived at the Romano estate early for the engagement party. The sun was just beginning to dip behind the horizon, casting a soft glow over the massive white stone mansion.

As I stepped out of the car, Sofia opened the door to greet us. The smile on her face was faker than her actual face. It didn’t reach her eyes, and I took a deep breath as I climbed the stairs to where she waited.

“Aristide,” she greeted me, holding out her hand like we were old friends. I hated this woman so much. “Your father is meeting with Antonio in his office. Come, I’ll take you to them.” She turned as she spoke.

I followed her through the house, ignoring the overly done décor, my mind already thinking of Izzy. Sofia led me to a solid dark wood door, looking at me over her shoulder before opening it. My father, Matteo, stood near the window, arms crossed, his expression unreadable. Antonio sat behind his desk but rose when I entered the room.

“Son,” my father said, walking over to clasp my shoulder. “Sit. This won’t take long,” he motioned to the two empty chairs that were in front of Antonio’s desk.

I sat. My father of course remained standing, always needing to look like he was the one in control. Classic Matteo.

“We wanted to align on a few things before the guests arrive,” Antonio began, folding his hands on the desk. “This engagement, this marriage—it means a lot for both our families.”

I raised a brow and nodded, “We’re all clear on the basic terms,” I told them, keep my tone neutral. “But I’m listening.”

My father glanced at me. “The Romano family solidifies territory. We get ports, protection, and resources when needed. And of course, a pipeline to clean money.”

“And the Moretti gain legitimacy through your name,” Antonio added. “The association with New York money, the business holdings, the cultural capital.”

I kept my eyes on him. “And Isabella?”

Antonio leaned back slightly. “She gains access to your network. Particularly your museum board ties—Sofia mentioned she wants to work in that world.”

“She does,” I said. “She’s hoping for a position at the Met. Or maybe the MoMA.”

“Exactly,” Antonio said with a nod. “She’ll have opportunities now that she wouldn’t have had before. With your introductions, doors will open.”

“She’s not a pawn,” I said, sharper than I meant to.

“No one said she was,” Matteo interjected quickly. “But she is part of the deal. As are you.”

I exhaled slowly, biting back the dozen things I could’ve said. “So, we’re just two puzzle pieces then?”

Antonio’s smile didn’t falter. “Not puzzle pieces. Anchors. This marriage ensures stability.” He sighed heavily, “We’re not looking to control her. But you know how these things work, Aristide. Publicly, this marriage is symbolic. Privately… it’s structural.”

“In other words, if this falls apart, so does the alliance?” They both nodded.

Father folded his arms and looked me in the eyes. I knew what was coming. “Which is why we need to build a legacy. You’ll need to think about heirs eventually.”

I clenched my jaw. “You mean babies.”

“Sooner than later,” he confirmed. “That kind of bloodline solidifies things more than any contract.”

“I’m not in a rush to throw her into motherhood,” I said. “She just graduated. As we just discussed, she’s got plans.”

“Plans change,” my father said flatly. “This union has to mean something real.”

“It will,” I said, standing. “But it’ll mean more if it’s not forced.”

They didn’t respond to that. I turned toward the door.

“I’d like to see her before the guests arrive.”

“She’s upstairs with Elena,” Antonio said.

“Tell her it’s time to come down with you,” Father instructed me.

Antonio turned and called out, “Mabel!”

The maid appeared almost instantly, hands clasped in front of her apron like she’d been eavesdropping the whole time.

“Show Aristide to Isabella’s room,” Antonio told her. “And make sure the door stays open.”

I shot Enzo a look as I stepped into the hall. He was leaning against the banister, sipping from a glass of something that definitely wasn’t water.

Rolling my eyes, I muttered under my breath, “Can’t even be alone with the woman I’m going to marry.”

He grinned, raised his glass in a mock toast, and I followed Mabel upstairs, already bracing myself to see her.

Upstairs, before we even reached the door, I heard Elena’s voice through the slightly cracked opening.

“You look beautiful. My big brother is going to die when he sees you.”

Mabel knocked gently. Elena opened the door with a smile, as she moved out of the way for me to see past her. I sucked in a breath the moment I saw Izzy.

She looked… Stunning. There was no other word I could use.

She wore a pale pink, silky gown that hugged her figure in all the right ways, the fabric caught the light like water over glass. Her long, dark hair was softly curled, swept to one side. Her skin glowed, lips painted a soft color that reminded me of a berry, and I wanted to taste them.

She looked like a dream… and completely unlike her while also exactly like her.

“You look amazing,” I said, stepping closer.

Her smile was nervous, her teeth biting into her bottom lip. I reached out and gently pulled it free with my thumb. I would be the only one tasting those plump, ripe, lips.

For right then though, I leaned in a kissed her cheek before whispering, “I’ll be by your side all night.”

She nodded. “This isn’t really my kind of thing.”

I couldn’t hold back the chuckle, “Not mine either. But it’s… necessary. For appearances.” I spoke the words our fathers had told me. She gave me a soft smile, but it wasn’t real. “Once we’re married, I’ll try to keep the social obligations to a minimum,” I added.

“Thank you,” she whispered just loud enough for me to hear.

I reached into my pocket. “Tonight though, is your night. I got you something.”

Her brows lifted slightly in surprise, and I pulled out a delicate gold bracelet. “It was my mother’s. She gave it to me before she died and told me it was meant for my future wife.”

I gently fastened it around her wrist, and her fingers brushed against mine. The moment was tender, and private… until the door swung open behind us.

Gianna and her friend Rosa waltzed in, all perfume and attitude.

“Are you two ready?” Gianna asked, her voice syrupy with fake sweetness. Her eyes scanned Isabella, and she tilted her head. “Wow. You actually look kinda pretty.”

She turned to me, eyes twinkling with mischief. “Maybe you’ll get lucky, and she’ll look like someone worthy of being on your arm.”

Rosa giggled.

“Shut up,” Elena snapped, stepping in between them.

“Whatever,” they both said with matching hair flips before sauntering out like a couple of spoiled teenagers.

I turned to Izzy. “It’s almost time.”

Then I looked at Elena. “Dad’s waiting for you.”

She nodded. “You’ll be fine,” she told Izzy. “You look better than your stupid sister and her whore friend.”

I smirked. “Agreed.”

We left the room, and Mabel was waiting at the top of the stairs.

“You’re to wait here until you’re announced,” she said.

I looked at Izzy and reached for her hand. “Just stay with me. We’ll get through it together.” She nodded.

The announcement echoed through the house, and we descended the staircase side by side. Downstairs, members of both families and other allied families greeted us. I did most of the talking, letting Isabella stay quiet and reserved. She didn’t need to be paraded around like a prize. I’d protect her peace however I could.

There were toasts from both of our fathers. Then it was my turn.

“The merging of our families is powerful,” I said, raising my glass. “But I’m the luckiest one of all—I get a beautiful, intelligent woman as my wife.”

I noticed something flicker in Isabella’s expression. A slight fall of her smile. I wasn’t sure why.

When the toasts ended, I leaned toward her. “Want to take a walk?”

Before she could answer, Sofia appeared at her side, taking her by the arm and leading her away. I moved to follow, but my father stepped in front of me.

“We need to talk,” he said.

My eyes followed Isabella until I lost sight of her. I prayed she’d be okay, even for just a little while.

Outside, I met up with Enzo and my father.

“I heard you’re planning an actual honeymoon,” Father said, eyeing me.

“I am,” I replied. “Somewhere tropical. Just us.”

“That’s fine,” he said. “I wanted you to know I was serious earlier. You’ll need a baby soon. I’ll give you a week.”

“I want you to know I was also serious. We’re not having a baby anytime soon. She just graduated. She wants to work for a little while.”

“A baby seals the deal,” he argued.

“So does a strong marriage,” I said through clenched teeth.

Antonio appeared and chimed in with his own opinion. “You’ll understand someday. Alliances are always fragile. Babies make them stronger.”

I was ready to tell both of them off—until I heard a scream. A bloodcurdling scream.

Enzo and I ran back inside, pushing through the stunned guests until we reached the center of the room. Everyone was staring at Isabella, her hair soaked, water dripping onto the floor.

Her face was frozen in shock. Gianna stood in front of her, and Rosa behind her, both of them looking like they were about to laugh. Elena stood nearby, fuming.

“What. Happened?” I growled.

Gianna started to open her mouth, but Elena jumped in. “That bitch had her friend dump a drink over Isabella’s head!”

I looked at Isabella… her eyes glossy, her shoulders trembling. I didn’t hesitate. I walked to her, took her arm, and whispered, “Hold it in.” Then I led her out of the room.

In the hallway, Mabel gasped. “What happened?” She looked from me to Izzy and back, “It was Gianna,” she answered herself, disgusted. “She’s always been vile. Jealous.”

Tears slid down Isabella’s cheeks.

I looked at Mabel. “I’m taking her to her room.” She nodded.

“I’ll cover for you.”

Upstairs, I walked to her room and into the bathroom. I wet a washcloth, came back out, and gently wiped the mascara from her cheeks.

“I’m getting you out of this house as soon as possible,” I said quietly.

“I don’t understand why she hates me so much,” she whispered. “She’s already the pretty, favorite. Isn’t that enough?”

“She knows she’s not half as pretty as you,” I told her.

That made her laugh softly. “Thanks for being such a good friend.”

I swallowed hard at that word… Friend.

“Do you want to go back down?” I asked.

“No. But I probably should.”

“You shouldn’t,” I said. “I’ll handle it. Get into pajamas. Relax. Tonight’s over.”

I kissed her forehead and turned to leave, already planning to talk to both of our fathers about moving the wedding up. I wasn’t leaving her here. Not with them.

Downstairs, I spotted Mabel and asked her where our fathers were.

“I sent them on a bit of a hunt,” she said with a sly smile.

I laughed. “When you see them, tell them I need to speak to them.”

“Yes, sir. Boss,” she added with a grin.

I laughed again—and made a mental note to ask Izzy about bringing Mabel back to New York with us.