Chapter 34

34

Olivia

"We need to talk." Solene pulls her knees close to her chest. We're in one of the guest rooms of their temporary home, which I have taken over as a dressing space. She's huddled on the window seat watching me as I get dressed. In my wedding dress. Or what I've chosen as my wedding dress. At least, it's a dress. For which that asshole should be grateful. Not that it makes a difference to him. As long as I turn up in front of the priest and say my vows and wear his stupid ring on my finger, he'll have fulfilled his role as a faithful grandson who kept his promise to his Nonna, and then everything will be okay. My family will be safe, and I'll finally be able to pursue my dream. I run my palms down the fabric of my dress. It hugs my waist and flows in an A-line to my ankles. There are slits that run up each side, so my thighs flash with every step I take. If he doesn't like it, then too fucking bad. He chose a tigress, not a lamb, and he'd better be able to deal with it. Or not. More fun if he can't. He should know from the time I scratched his back the first time he fucked me that my nails are sharper than they seem, and I'm not above using them to get my way.

I glance at my black-tipped nails, then lean closer to the mirror to apply the dark red to my lips. So what if it makes my skin appear chalkier and the scar on my cheek stand out even more? He knew what he was getting, and lest he forget, I'm going to remind him.

"Are you really going to wear that?" My mother breezes into my room. She's wearing a black dress that flows to her ankles. Her features are pale, her eyes are swollen like she's been crying, but the expression on her face is one of horror. "Surely not," she continues without waiting for an answer. Yep, that's my ma. She can hold a conversation with herself without much effort. And that includes asking questions and supplying multiple possible answers to them, all by herself.

She walks closer and looks me over again. "You look like a whore."

"Gee, thanks, madre mia," mother mine, I say lightly .

"You're marrying into the Cosa Nostra ? —"

"Don't remind me."

"You need to dress the part."

"Or not. My husband-to-be doesn't care. Neither do I." I finish touching up my lips and bring them together in a pout. "Nor should you. As long as I turn up for the wedding on time and do the deed, everything will be fine. You, Zia and her worthless husband, and my cousins will all be taken care of. None of you will ever have to worry about money, or anyone else trying to mess with you. So, the least you can do is allow me to dress the way I want."

My mother's forehead creases. She purses her lips, and I steel myself. Here we go—another tirade of how she knows better than I know myself, how I'm going to regret this, et cetera, et cetera.

"You hate me," she finally says.

"Eh?" This is something new. Normally, I'm the one using that dialogue. "You may be right. That feeling has, more or less, been on the top of my mind for me in connection with you for a long time," I retort.

She looks taken aback, then laughs. "You never did mince your words. It's something I've always admired that about you."

"You have?" Now she's complimenting me? That can't be right. "Why are you here?"

"My daughter is getting married."

"To the man who killed your son," I remind her.

She pales, then seems to sway a little.

"Mamma!" I move toward her, but she evades me and walks over to the chair in the corner of the room and sinks into it.

"I'm sorry, I shouldn't have said that," I take another step in her direction.

She raises a hand. "You're right. He did kill your brother." She takes a breath and seems to compose herself. "Are you wondering why I'm not more upset about you marrying him? Why I'm, in fact, encouraging you to marry Massimo?"

I nod, unable to find any other words to speak.

"I'm not a fool, child. I'm fully aware that he threatened to leave us without protection if you didn't marry him."

"You… you knew that?"

"I guessed it. Look, from the time you walked into that conservatory and he got a good look at you, he hasn't had eyes for anyone else. It was clear he was fixated on you. Diego should have called off the engagement with Solene right away, but he didn't. He was too greedy for power. He wanted the liaison with the Cosa Nostra to get access to their business, and then he wanted to marry you to the Mexican crime lord." Her features wear a haunted look. "I forbade him to do so. I told him if he went ahead with it, I'd never forgive him. But none of that made a difference. He was dead set on it, and I wouldn't have been able to stop it."

"I… I wouldn't have let him marry me off."

She laughs. "You live in another world, child. You forget, within the Camorra, the head's word holds sway. He would have kidnapped you and kept you captive until he married you off."

A shiver squeezes up my spine. "He… he told you that?"

"He left me with no doubt about his intentions. I was powerless to stop him. My own child, who emerged from my womb. I couldn't believe he would go to such lengths to satisfy his greed." She shakes her head. "So, while I mourn his loss, I feel like I lost him a long time ago, and I'm relieved he's no longer around to see his plan through."

"Mamma." I shake my head. "I… I don't know what to say."

"You don't have to say anything." A crafty look enters her eyes. "You can, however, show your gratitude by listening to me."

I scowl in her direction. "I know what you're going to say, but?—"

"I know you think I'm flighty and a nag, but the one thing I have on you is years of experience when it comes to men," she proclaims.

I exchange a glance with Solene, who's watching us with rapt attention.

This is something new. I never heard Mamma talk about men, or anything remotely related to relationships, in all the years I was at home.

"Umm, I'm not sure what you're trying to say?"

"I assume you're going to stay married to this man for the foreseeable future, yes?"

"I guess." I meet her gaze in the mirror.

"And for better or worse, he's the man you're going to spend some part of your life with." Interesting, my ma didn't say ‘the rest of your life,' or use definitive words like ‘forever,' or anything indicating an expectation of a long future together.

"Where are you going with this?"

"For the time that you are going to be with him?—"

"We'll probably be in different cities," I interject.

"Which makes it all the more important that the times you meet him face-to-face, you make an impression on him."

"And this—" I wave a hand at my dress "—doesn't cut it?"

"Men are simple creatures. They like to know they're getting their money's worth?—"

"I am not a transaction."

"Or good sex?—"

I gasp. "You didn't just say that, Mamma!"

"How do you think you and your siblings were born?" She scoffs.

"Yes, I know, but still—" I shake my head. "You've never spoken about this to us before."

"That's because the situation never arose before where I needed to have this talk."

"A little late for the-birds-and-the-bees discussion, don't you think?" I shuffle my feet. "And really, we don't have to do this. I know everything there is to know?—"

"Not about marriage, you don't. And you probably won't heed the advice I'm going to give you, but I'm going to say it anyway."

Of course she is. I blow out a breath, but don't react. If I do, it'll only make it worse. Best to hear her out on this.

"You want your Mafia guy to see you as the epitome of beauty, as everything he respects and wants to take home to protect. You want him to be proud of you?—"

"I don't care what he thinks of me, actually."

"—so you can use it to your advantage and negotiate with him."

I hold her gaze in the mirror. "Negotiate? As in, press my advantage?"

"Marriage is a bargain, a contract from which both of you will benefit. You bring some strengths, and so does he. The two of you fulfill your roles, trying to cancel out the other's weaknesses and build upon each other's strengths. And gain benefit from your mutual agreement."

"You make it sound so coldhearted."

"The best relationships are. Don't be fooled by what you see from the outside. Every good marriage has, at its heart, a negotiation. Lines have to be drawn, and rules have to be adhered to. If any one of you doesn't do your part, the connection suffers," she says with emphasis.

"You talk about it like it's a business contract," Solene says as she walks over to join us. "But you forget, this is about hearts, and emotions, and love."

"Love?" My mother laughs. "You girls are so naive. Love is a concept made up by poets, filmmakers, and authors, to fool people. When real life intrudes, love goes out the window. When your child cries at night, it's not love that wakes up and feeds it. When wrinkles crease your skin, and your body sags under the weight of having breastfed your kids, and your husband decides to keep younger women on the side, it's not love that comforts you then."

"Wait, hold on." I spin around to face her. "Are you telling us that our father had mistresses on the side?"

"He was a good father, and I'd go so far as to say he never shirked his duties as a husband, but he wasn't a saint, either."

"B-but..." Solene shifts her weight from foot to foot. "Didn't the two of you have a love match?"

"And that's why you should never fall in love." She glances from me to my sister. "To think you have found your soulmate, only to have him betray your trust, is as disappointing as having your children think the worst of you."

I flush a little. Guess I deserve that. But I'm not making excuses. My mother may have had her fair share of issues to deal with, but it doesn't negate the fact that she was an absolute bitch to me growing up.

"You see, love is a mirage, and I'm trying my best to save the two of you from future disappointment."

"That's why you wanted us to have arranged marriages?" I lower my chin to my chest.

She nods. "This way, you walk in with your eyes open and no illusions, and if your husband does fall in love with you, it's a welcome surprise. And if he doesn't, you still have the money, the prestige, the security of a marriage, and later, children. It's all you need."

"That's such a pessimistic point of view. What's there in life if you don't have love?" Solene tips up her chin.

"What is there in life when you're betrayed by love?" My mother draws in a breath. "I know you don't want to believe me. You think I'm saying all of this because I'm envious that you're only now starting your lives. But really, I only want to save you from heartbreak."

"You don't have to worry about me, because I'm not marrying for love."

"Aren't you?" My mother glances at me with a funny look on her face.

"Of course not. It's an arrangement. He needs to marry to fulfill his promise to his grandmother and I—" I press my lips together. "As you're well aware, I'm marrying to keep our family safe. So, no, it's not love."

"If you say so," my mother murmurs.

"I, on the other hand, have no intention of marrying yet, and when I do so, it will be for love." Solene draws herself up to her full height. "It's why I'm going to LA with Declan."

"You're going to LA?" my mother and I both say at the same time. We glance at each other, then back at Solene.

"Are you marrying him?" my mother asks.

She laughs. "Of course not. I just met the man. But he's promised to help introduce me to agents and help kick start my singing career."

"That's wonderful. I'm so happy to see you giving this a shot."

"You're not marrying him, but you're going to stay with him?" My mother's tone is censorious.

My sister raises a shoulder. "I have nowhere else to stay. And he's told me he has a spare bedroom, and I can use it until I get on my feet."

"Why don't you marry him? That way you'll have some security, at least."

"Ma, please. I don't know him at all." She scoffs.

"But you're going to LA with him," she points out.

"Yes, but that's only because he has connections in the industry."

"And you're attracted to him." I narrow my gaze on her. "I'm not going to stop you from following your dream. Far from it, but I do want to ask you to be careful."

"Will the two of you stop treating me like a child?"

"You just turned eighteen, Solene, you're still a teenager," I say gently.

"And I can decide what I want to do with my life. I'm done with letting other people make my decisions for me," she says through gritted teeth.

I bite the inside of my cheek. "I'm glad you recognize there's more to life than getting married and having babies. Not that it's not something I don't want for you, or for myself, but it helps to live a little and figure out what you want first."

"Right now, I want to pursue my career as a singer and—" She glances away then back at me. "I admit, I want to see where this thing with Declan goes."

"Have you slept with him?" I ask.

My mother draws in a breath, but doesn't say anything. Considering she was a virgin, which is why my brother chose her for the arranged marriage proposition.... Let's just say, virginity is still highly-prized in our clan. Thankfully, though, no one has that expectation of me.

"Have you slept with Massimo?" Solene shoots back.

"Eh?" Heat sears my cheeks. I'm not shy about the fact that I've slept with men in the past. That I have a healthy sexual appetite. That I enjoy sex—in fact, more than enjoyed the explosive encounter with Massimo the night we met. But I'll be damned, if I am going to admit that to my sister and mother.

"None of your business," I snap.

One side of Solene's lips twists in a smile. "Exactly."

"You are so annoying." I throw up my hands. "I'm just looking out for you."

"As I am for you," Mamma retorts.

"I have a dress for the bride. One in which I guarantee she's going to look ah-ma-zing!" a new voice singsongs from the doorway.

I turn to find someone who looks familiar walking in. I think I saw her at Solene's engagement. Her dress hints at her pregnant stomach and she's holding a garment bag that says: Karma's Creations. Oh, that‘s right. The bridesmaid dresses. And I thought she might be Massimo's woman.

"Hi. Karma, right? We got our bridesmaids' gowns for Jeanne's wedding from you." I smile.

"Correct on all accounts. I'm also Michael Sovrano's wife. I took the liberty of creating a wedding dress for you. This here is an original Karma Creation, and I'd be honored if you wore it."