Chapter 11

"What is the useless skin around a vagina called?"

I closed my eyes briefly. This would not be good.

Antonius Carlo Fichera boomed out, "The woman!" Then slapped his thigh as he leaned forward, laughing at his own joke, sounding like a braying donkey.

Wow. That was even worse than I thought it would be.

My future father-in-law was holding court among his dinner guests.

The very first thing I noticed was they were all men. Clearly, the capo preferred dining with his soldati and not their wives or girlfriends, as was customary at a formal dinner party. It had always been my experience that if a man was required to wear a tuxedo, then there would be women present.

It reminded me of the old tavoliddus mafia dinners from the sixties where the mafiosi would feast on meat, cheese, and expensive wine given, or more precisely stolen, as a tribute from the poor villagers, before ending the night with a mock liturgy. With the men whipping the white tablecloths around their shoulders, pretending to be bishops and priests blessing the only females there, the prostitutes.

All bullshit, egotistical masculine energy.

What did I expect from a man who named his daughters Antonella Carlotta and Antonia Carlotta after himself?

The ice in my Campari and soda rattled as Antonius slapped me on the back. "Great joke, right?"

I forced a smile. "I can honestly say I have heard nothing like it in quite some time."

He slapped me again. "Don't go stealing it like you're stealing my daughter!"

Again, the donkey brayed as the rest of the room laughed along with him.

I laughed through clenched teeth, covertly checking my watch. "I won't."

Where the hell was Antonia? I wanted to speak with her before we were all seated.

It was clear, given the stilted entertainment, I would not be getting the quality alone time I had enjoyed last night, but that didn't mean I didn't have some strong words for her.

The men all turned as Antonia and her sister, Antonella, appeared in the parlors arched doorway but did not enter, as if waiting for permission.

I knew the women were twins, but damn. If it weren't for their attire and makeup, I wouldn't be able to tell the two apart.

Antonia was wearing heavy eyeliner, large gaudy jewelry and a tight, cleavage-baring, black cocktail dress, much in the style I remembered from when I first met her on Dante's yacht.

The shy sister, Antonella, wore a more modest A-line dress in pale cream with a high collar, a strand of black pearls her only adornment.

With their golden hair, they looked like the good and evil versions of two angels.

Too bad I wasn't being asked to marry the good angel.

Antonius motioned for the women to enter. "Girls, come over here and greet our guests."

Both women moved to stand dutifully near their father.

Antonius placed a hand around Antonia's waist. "So this one is finally going to make herself useful by doing her duty and marrying."

I frowned as I focused on his hand. It wasn't quite at her waist but higher, more like on her ribcage, and close to her breasts. Odd.

The crowd cheered as Antonius motioned for me to come closer. "This is my possible future son-in-law, Matteo Cavalieri. He's from the mainland, but his money ensures I won't hold it against him."

More laughter.

Fuck, this was painful.

My gaze settled on Antonia. Her lip curled slightly as she tilted her chin up and broke my gaze by turning to the other guests. Coldly ignoring me.

Well, what did I expect? The warm and loving embrace of a fiancée?

I raised my glass in a toast. "Thank you, Signore Fichera. I'm honored to become a member of your family."

Antonius raised his palm as he exchanged an amused look with his men. "Take it easy there, Matteo. No one said you'd be part of the family … yet. We haven't talked terms. You are, after all, getting the daughter of one of the most powerful capos this side of the island. I'm not just going to give her away."

Interesting not-so-subtle hint that he would expect a dowery.

I wondered if Dante, their Capo dei Capi and head of the entire syndicate, knew Antonius was referring to himself as such. It appeared we may have cut off the head of one snake, only for another to appear in its place. Perhaps Salvatore wasn't the only one in the organizationwith dreams of taking Dante's shaky throne.

He placed his hand on the back of Antonia's neck and pulled her in even closer before saying, "And you're not bringing much in return."

Just a legendary family legacy dating back to Italys kingdom era, a billion-dollar fortune, and respectability for his daughter.

Antonia barked a laugh as she placed her hand on her father's chest. "Maybe you shouldn't make me marry him then."

I remembered her laugh being more soft and musical last night. Come to think of it, shed had a horrible, brash laugh at the dinner with Dante as well. Strange.

I watched as she cast a coy glance across the room. The subject of her attention was a married capodecina in Antonius's ranks namedAlessio Bonucci. This must be one of the men Dante was worried about after Salvatore's assassination. The reason I was being pressed into service to marry Antonia and get her out of Sicily before she could cause any more trouble.

Either her father was completely unaware of her extracurricular activities, or he was baiting me by having his daughter's lover at the very dinner at which our engagement was being announced.

Antonius glared at his daughter, showing his mercurial temperament. "You'll marry who I tell you to marry."

Antonia's smile faded as the other guests looked down at their drinks or turned their heads to avoid the awkward encounter. "Of course, Father."

With his grip on her neck, he gave her a shove forward. "Go and greet my guests like you were taught."

I slammed my drink down on the nearest surface and stepped forward, fists clenched.

A hand on my shoulder stopped me. I looked over to see Dante at my side.

He gave an almost imperceptible shake of his head. "Not yours yet to protect. This is his house and his daughter. Remember that."

I clenched my jaw as I inhaled through my nose.

The guests in the room surged forward to greet Dante before I could respond. Everyone but Antonius, who remained by the fireplace mantle.

Dante stretched out his arms. "Antonius, do you not greet your Don?"

The man's upper lip lifted, baring his canines for just a second before his sneer morphed into a bitter smile. "Of course, Don Agnello. Welcome to my home."

Unlike with the others who were greeted with warm slaps on the shoulder or embraces, Dante swung his arm forward when Antonius approached. After a moment's hesitation, Antonius bowed low and kissed his ring.

Nice play.

Surveying the room to garner the reactions of the other guests, I spotted Ella. Partially hidden behind a high-backed upholstered chair, she stood silent and still. As if she hoped we would all forget she was even there. It was easy to see why she was called the shy one.

Antonia's laughter caught my attention again. This time she had her arms around the neck of another soldati as his hand crept low on her back, practically cupping her ass.

Having had enough, I stormed across the room and grabbed her forearm to dislodge her grasp. Keeping my gaze on the man, I said, "You don't mind if I chat with my fiancée, do you?"

The shorter man stepped back and bowed his head before hurrying away.

Antonia ran the tip of her finger along the inside edge of my tuxedo lapel. "That wasn't very nice of you, Matteo. I was just being friendly."

"Like you were being friendly with Manfredo at Carnevale?"

Her finger traced the waistband to my tuxedo slacks along my belt. "Exactly."

I gripped her wrist. "I thought I made it clear last night that I wouldn't tolerate such behavior moving forward. Perhaps you need another reminder from my riding crop."

Antonia leaned forward. "And just how will you remind me with your riding crop?" she whispered suggestively, the tip of her tongue sweeping over her heavily glossed red lips.

My gaze traveled down to her other hand but didn't see a drink in it. That would be the only explanation for her sudden, overtly flirtatious insinuation, which was a stark contrast to how she behaved on my boat, but similar to her comments at Carnevale.

Perhaps she was on some form of medication? Or shared her father's mercurial personality.

I inwardly sighed. Fantastic.

A woman cleared her throat behind me. "I heard riding crop. Are you talking about your horse ranch, Signore Cavalieri?"

I hadn't realized Ella had crept up on us.

Releasing Antonia's wrist, I responded, "Not exactly."

Ella trained her eyes on her sister, despite talking to me. "I've heard it is so far north that more than half the people speak German and most of the restaurants in town serve boiled beef and Gulasch."

Antonia covered her mouth, her shoulders jerking as if she were gagging. Her response was muffled by her palm. "That isn't true, is it?"

Curious as to Ella's motives for bringing up such an odd fact, I shrugged. "It's what the skiers who visit seem to want."

Ella kept her face slightly averted from me with a curled wave of hair covering her cheek and jaw. "That's right! It's negative two degrees Celsius there right now, and it will stay that way through April. My! Isn't that interesting, Antonia? Right when Palermo gets warm and is bathed in bright sunshine, Matteo's family horse ranch will still be deep in the middle of a dark winter."

Antonia looked over my shoulder past the both of us to give someone a sly smile and a wave before glancing at her sister. "I think it sounds positively archaic. I can't imagine why anyone would want to live in such a boring, backward part of Italy."

My thigh brushed Ella's hand when I shifted to the side to block Antonia's view of whoever she was attempting to flirt with while in my presence.

I was not expecting the shock of awareness, nor Ella's sudden gasp.

She snatched her arm around her middle as she took a step away from me.

Still not meeting my gaze.

Something teased at the back of my memory.

Refocusing on Antonia, I said, "You'll learn to appreciate its charms once you are there."

"God, you can't seriously think I'd agree to visit, let alone live there."

The corner of my mouth lifted as I raised my glass to take a sip. "Good thing I wasn't planning on asking for your approval on where we live."

The champion horse ranch I helped run with my father was a huge part of my life. Not only was it in the Northern Italian Alps, which had some of the most grandiose and stunningly beautiful vistas in the world, it was also extremely lucrative.

Not to mention its barely guarded border with Austria and Germany allowed my father and me to slip in and out of the country without records or surveillance, which was a useful asset for our more clandestine pursuits.

Antonia flipped her long hair. "I have no intention of going through with this marr?—"

"Dinner is served," interrupted a uniformed servant.