“No. And no, I … am … not … getting married just because you demand it.”
“Don’t argue with me, Lucia. This was always the plan.”
In my head, I fill in the gaps. A pretty ornament to hang on the arm of some wealthy man my father deems acceptable to become part of the Romano family. A perfect trophy wife. An incubator to provide heirs.
My heart cracks, and I imagine the tinkling sound as it shatters into a million tiny pieces at my feet. I’d hoped one day to meet a man, fall in love, and have a family. Someone who is kindhearted, encourages and supports my career aspirations, and wants a family as much as me. But what my father is suggesting is nothing like that.
“There is no one I want to marry.” The fight seeps out of me by the second.
“That is not important. This is about duty, and because you have failed to find a suitable husband, I have chosen one for you.”
My jaw drops. Tears well, clouding my vision. But I won’t let them fall; my father hates signs of weakness. And I refuse to let him see how much he has hurt me with his words.
“Who?” I croak out through a suddenly dry throat.Please don’t let it be someone a lot older.
He smiles smugly, and a fissure of fear races up my spine.
“Giovanni Barbieri,” he pronounces.
“No!” I shout again, before I can think better of it. Antonio’s older brother? No. He’s not the Barbieri boy I fell in love with as a teenager.
My father’s thick brow descends in a frown. The first sign of emotion.
“You will,” he roars. “It was agreed upon when you were a child, and now it’s time that our families are joined as one. My grandchildren will be part of the Barbieri family.”
He leans back in his chair, resting his hands on his belly. A smug smile plastered across his face and completely unaware that he’s blown up my future happiness.
“I can’t marry Giovanni,” I plead, the tears now falling unchecked.
“Stop with the hysterics. You will do this to honor your family. Now go and fix yourself for dinner.” He waves his hand in dismissal of me before spinning his chair around to face out the window.
My shoulders slump, and I turn to leave but stop to look back before reaching the door. “Does … does Gio … know?” I stammer.
He spins back around to glare at me. “He was meeting with his father this afternoon.”
This time when I turn, I do go, stumbling on the edge of the rug in my rush to get away. And I don’t stop until I’m out of the house and falling into the back seat of the car. Somehow through the sobs, I manage to tell the driver to take me back to the airport. It’s way too early for my flight, but I don’t care. Anywhere is better than remaining at my father’s house, eating a meal and pretending that what he’s asked of me isn’t some archaic, misogynistic, bullshit tradition that I want no part of.
I’ll hide out in the first-class lounge for a couple of hours until my flight to London, and maybe I can figure out a way to change my father’s mind. But then, remembering my father’s last words, I realize I’m not in this alone. Gio met with his father, too, and he’ll know how to stop this madness. I pull out my cell and scroll through my contacts to find his number. I’m sure Antonio gave it to me a couple years ago when the fashion house I worked for wanted to order wine for a show.
My fingers shake as I hover over the number. I don’t know whether to speak to Antonio or Giovanni first. The fact that Ant hasn’t tried to call me means he likely doesn’t know yet, and honestly, I’m not sure how I’m supposed to tell him that my father wants me to marry his brother.
Fresh tears run down my cheeks, and I brush them away. I’m in no fit state to talk to anyone at the moment.
I’ll call Ant when I land in London. Time and distance will surely help me get the words out.
Of course, my secret hope is that Gio will have told him first.
Chapter five
Antonio
One Week Later
How can a marriage contract dated nearly twenty years ago still be legally binding?But it is, according to our lawyers.
“Maybe we’ll just have to announce our engagement,” Gio says, dropping his head into his hands.
“Fuck no,” I yell from across the conference table. It’s been like this between us for days as we’ve gone back and forth over the contract wording.
