I knock on the front door of a very modest, middle-class, suburban home. My black Mercedes SUV with tinted windows, with Ivo in the passenger seat and another car with more of my men parked farther ahead, seems a little out of place.
Cosimo and his wife greet me at the door, and Carla is the first to see that Ivo has remained in the car. She quickly waves her hand at Ivo, a polite gesture that seems to throw Ivo off. He does a two-finger salute back.
“Isn’t your, uh, friend going to join us? We have plenty, and he’s more than welcome,” Carla says with a smile.
“I would never assume to invite someone into your home. I’m sure Ivo would appreciate a home-cooked meal. We don’t get much of that,” I reply. Cosimo walks down the front steps and knocks on the SUV’s window. The men exchange a few words, and Ivo looks to me for instructions. I give a nod, and he and Cosimo rejoin us. Carla leads the way into her home.
The house is surprisingly spacious and nicely decorated with a homey touch. Carla has made their house a home, a place of comfort. Aris is waiting in the living room, poring over what looks like a schematic drawing of a new building. He’s so engrossed in what he’s doing, he doesn’t hear us come in.
“Aris, come greet our guests,” his father says, breaking his son’s focus.
“Please excuse me. I’m being tortured trying to understand this drafting plan.” He shakes my hand and does the same with Ivo.
“Are you struggling with that?” I ask.
Aris rolls out the architectural plans and points to a section on the bottom right of the page. “I don’t think this is right. How can this structure hold up the parking garage? It’s three tiers, and the columns seem narrow,” he says, furrowing his brows.
“Can I take a look?” Aris moves to the side, and I scan the document. I see his point. “Do you have details of the construction code and the cement content?”
Aris scans the paperwork he dropped on the coffee table. After rooting through the pages, he finds the one he’s looking for. “See? Right here,” he says. “This can’t work, can it?”
I read through it all and smile. “You’re right. The contractor made a mistake, or he was hoping you wouldn’t catch it. This is a low-grade cement mix. After a few years of wear and tear, you’d need the structure reworked. It would cost a fortune.” I look up and clasp a hand on his shoulder. “Good work, Aris. You may just have saved La Famiglia a shit ton of money.”
This is the first time I’ve ever seen Aris smile. He’s even puffing out his chest with pride. “Yeah? All right!”
“Nero will be pleased. I’d give him a call. He’s going to want to meet with the construction foreman, sooner rather than later.”
“Be right back,” he says, excusing himself.
“Evangeline should be down soon,” Cosimo says. “Can I get you both something to drink?”
I’m about to answer when I notice Evangeline standing in the doorway. She stops in her tracks, openly gaping at me. Surprise is written all over her face. Her father turns to see her as well. He holds out his hand, and Evangeline steps right in next to him.
“Evangeline, I think you’ve met Raffaele Di Morte and his consigliere, Ivo Avante,” he says, his tone gentle.
“Yes, I have,” she tells her father and then looks at me. “It’s good to see you again, Mr. Di Morte.” Evangeline’s voice is like a whisper in the wind.
“Good evening, Evangeline.” I take her all in. She looks extraordinary in her turquoise-blue knee-length dress. The fitted bodice shows her voluptuous breasts, and the flare of her skirts accentuates her lovely legs.
Soon to be mine.
* * *
Evangeline
The hottest man on the planet is in my home. He says my name, and my heart beats faster. His voice is low and sexy. His gray eyes crinkle when he smiles, and his full lips make me wonder what his kiss would be like. Would his lips be warm and soft, or firm and demanding? Either way, I’m sure it would be unforgettable.
Even in his pressed deep-blue suit, I can see that he’s muscular and built like a prize fighter. He towers over me, yet I’m not afraid. I catch myself staring and force myself to look at his friend, Ivo.
“Hello.”
Ivo gives me a small grin. He’s almost as handsome as Raffaele. Ivo’s dark hair and dark eyes give him the air of a mysterious stranger. He’s as tall as Raffaele, but where Raffaele is a prize fighter, Ivo has more of a wrestler’s physique.
“Cosimo, I’d like to have a word with Evangeline,” Raffaele’s voice rumbles. My eyes open wide as I glance up at my father. This isn’t done! A young woman isn’t left alone in a room with a man unless that man is family, and certainly never with a virtual stranger.
My father lets go of my hand and motions for Ivo to accompany him. “We’ll be in the dining room. Please join us shortly,” Dad says.
The door shuts, and suddenly, I’m very much aware that Raffaele and I are alone. I watch through lowered lashes as Raffaele moves to the sofa and takes a seat. He pats the padded cushion next to him and calls to me.
“Won’t you join me?” he says smoothly. I join him, perched on the edge of the sofa, my heart beating wildly. “Do you know why I’m here?”
“No,” I whisper.
“I’m here for you. I’d like to marry you.” I blink, and there’s no doubt that I’m gaping. I know this because his firm hand comes under my chin, shutting my mouth. “Is it so inconceivable?” He chuckles.
“I’m no one. You’re a capo. This isn’t done,” I exclaim. My head is reeling. I would make a terrible wife for a capo. I don’t know the first thing about the highbrow society their wives are into. I’ll stick out like a sore thumb.
“In Ultimo Morte, I set the rules. What I say goes.” He pushes aside my objection. “Would you rather I ask you to be my mistress?” he jests.
My face heats up until I’m sure I’m as red as a beet. “Of course not.”
“Then marriage is the only other option.”
He should know the truth. Raffaele needs to know that I’m not just a soldier’s daughter, which is already beneath his social standing, but there’s more.
“Mr. Di Morte—”
“Rafe,” he corrects.
“Rafe.” When I say his name, it seems familiar, comfortable. “Do you know what they say about me? People talk, and eventually, this will get back to you. I would be an embarrassment.”
He narrows his eyes, watching me carefully. “I never go into a situation without knowing all the details, tesoro.”
I inhale deeply. I’ve never said the words out loud. I’ve heard rumors. Women gossip and men gossip even more when they drink. My family has never said a word. I’m sure that the incident last night was about me. Aris would never admit to it, but I can feel it.
“My father—”
Raffaele cuts me off quickly. “Is Cosimo Lanzia. A respected soldier, a casino manager for La Famiglia, and as loyal as can be. As far as I’m concerned, your father and his position hold no bearing on my decision.”
“But—”
“Evangeline, I’m well aware of the rumor. It doesn’t factor.”
“It will when your men find out. How will you explain it? You can pretend you didn’t know, and a war will start over giving you defective goods. Or worse, you’ll send me back and it will destroy my parents. I would prefer to be dead than to watch them suffer. My parents have endured so much. I’m trying to live a quiet, out-of-the-way existence so that I won’t be a problem.”
“That’s ridiculous. You’ve done nothing to be ashamed of. Being born isn’t a sin, tesoro. And your father should be admired. In his mind, there’s no question that you’re his; therefore, you are his. I accept this, and so will Ultimo Morte. He adores his wife and has raised two considerate children. You should be walking around with your head held high, not cowering in the corner, out of sight.”
His voice becomes more insistent. “I don’t give a shit what people say. You want skeletons? My own brother turned against me and wanted me dead. My father was a very strict man and had no tolerance for disruption. My mother was so wrapped up in trying to be the perfect wife that she forgot to be a mother most of the time,” he says. “My story isn’t much different from many others. What others think does not define us. What we choose to be is in our hands. With Ultimo Morte, you can start fresh. You will be the daughter of a prominent businessman with La Famiglia, with whom our families have decided to open a joint casino for Cosimo to oversee. This means frequent visits from your family. The borders of our cities are open to La Famiglia, and of course, we’ll be coming here as often as possible.”
“That simple?” I murmur.
His fingers caress the apple of my cheek. “For me? Yes.” He runs his thumb over my lower lip. “I saw you and thought, she’s someone I want to meet.” He shrugs. “I met her. She intrigues me, and I think to myself, I want this woman as my wife. And here I am.” He pauses and looks into my eyes. “You’re attracted to me.”
I gasp and am ready to deny it, but his fingers cover my lips. “Never lie to me, Evangeline. This is one rule you will obey.” I shut my mouth. His hand curves along the column of my throat. “You don’t know why or who I am, but with me, you can be free. Free from unnecessary chatter. You’ll be safe with me. This is my vow.”
“Marriage is forever, Rafe. I’ve imagined having a husband and children, living a peaceful life. Being your wife isn’t going to be peaceful.”
“Your life was never going to be quiet. We’re Mafia families, with enemies on every corner. The strong survive, and it’s my job to make sure my family stands solid.”
Raffaele is being honest, and although I always knew this, saying the words makes it real. I’m not a Mafia princess, but just as my mother was taken, the same can happen to me. He’s been the first man to be completely honest with me about life in our world.
I shouldn’t trust this man, but my heart is leading my head, and I feel like I belong with Raffaele.
“Ask me?” I whisper, swallowing deeply.
A hint of a sly smile crosses over his sexy mouth. “Will you be my wife, tesoro?”
“Yes.” I’m finding it hard to breathe, and when he slips a massive pear-shaped diamond onto my finger, I almost forget how to exhale.
“Normally, I would kiss you, but I feel like you need time to adjust. I look forward to tasting your lips,” he teases. He stands, taking me with him. “We better go tell your parents the good news before they come looking for us.” He holds out his arm and waits for me to link mine through his, then leads me out toward the dining room.
Aris is pacing the room, but stops as soon as he sees Raffaele and me arm in arm. His eyes drift to my hand, which feels heavy with the weight of the ring on it. Mom is busying herself, making the table picture perfect, and Dad is sipping a drink with Ivo.
With all eyes on us, Raffaele is the first to speak. “I am honored that Evangeline has accepted my proposal.” My mother rushes to me, hugging me close. Dad congratulates Raffaele, and Ivo slaps his back. Aris comes directly to me.
“You don’t have to do this,” he murmurs in my ear as he embraces me.
“I want this,” I say firmly. He searches my face and nods.
It’s not long after that we’re all sitting at the table. Dad is at the head of the table, with Raffaele to one side and Aris on the other. Mom immediately launches into wedding talk.
“Are we looking at June of next year? That will give us a full year to plan,” Mom says.
“I’m afraid time is not a luxury I can afford. This marriage must happen sooner rather than later,” Raffaele tells her.
“How soon?” my father asks.
“Three months at most,” Raffaele replies, and I nearly choke on the ravioli I’m chewing, Raffaele turns to me. “Is there a reason to wait?” I can’t think of a darn good reason seeing as I don’t want a huge spectacle of a wedding and this is an excuse to keep it intimate.
“I guess not,” I confirm.
“Then pick a day in September, and it will be done,” he finishes.
I blink at his decisiveness. Mom is frazzled for all of one minute before changing gears and accelerating the wedding plans.