All the reasons this is a bad idea wage war in my head. “But Lucia—” I try to form my thoughts into words that don’t shuffle into a sentence, before Gio interrupts my stuttering.
“As far as I know, the contract just states the head of the Barbieri Corporation, and Ant is CEO of Barbieri Foods, so head of one of the subsidiaries, just like me …”
My mind goes blank, still struggling to process the idea of me marrying Lucia. And when I realize I’ve missed the rest of what he’s said and all three matching sets of blue-gray eyes are staring at me, I say the first thing that pops into my head. “Her father will never agree.”
“Her father and ours don’t need to know until it’s done,” Gio replies, swatting my words away as a mere blip in his plan.
“Are you thinking Vegas?” Nico asks, his eyes sparking with interest, and I turn my glare on him. This isn’t the kind of support I hoped for from my brothers. Because there’s no fucking way Lucia and I are having a quickie wedding in Sin City.
“I’m definitely thinking Vegas,” Gio confirms, and my stomach drops to my boots.
Luce will hate this plan. No, she’ll hatemefor being a part of this plan.
Oblivious to how my mouth is now gaping like a goldfish, Gio continues, “It’s the quickest, easiest way. But nobody other than us and Lucia can know.”
Fuck, it gets worse. AsecretVegas wedding to my best friend. This is all moving too fast, and I can’t keep up.
Gio leans forward, resting his elbows on the table. “I’ll speak with Lucia tonight.”
“No,” I shout, finally finding my voice, even if it sounds like I’ve swallowed a bunch of razor blades. “I’ll speak to her.”
There’s no fucking way anyone other than me is going to ask Lucia to marry me. If this ridiculous idea of a secret wedding in Vegas has any chance of happening, then it must be me. Besides, I’m not willing to ruin my friendship with her by leaving it up to my brother. My chair scrapes against the floor as I jump up from the table, having heard enough for one night.
“She’s going to hate the idea,” I say, less forcefully.
“Maybe, but when she thinks of the alternative, me—or worse, someone else her father decides will serve his purposes better—then I’m sure she’ll agree.”
“That’s crazy,” Nico says. “It’s like her father thinks he’s a Roman emperor marrying off his daughter without her consent.”
“Our parents and hers were arranged marriages, so they don’t see anything wrong with it,” I say, then draw in a deep breath and release it on a loud sigh. “So I guess I’ll ask her to marry me.”
“Don’t forget to get down on one knee,” Leo teases.
“Shut the fuck up, Leo,” I snap.
Leo laughs as he stands. “Love you too, Ant. Now get the hell out of my restaurant.”
“Ant, before you go. Nobody else can know about this until it’s done,” Gio insists, and the three of us nod in agreement. “If our father finds out that Ant and I are planning to swap places, he’ll stop us. We all know how he hates to be disobeyed.”
Lucia’s never going to agree,so there’s no point sitting around discussing it with my brothers.And I don’t realize I’ve voiced my concern until I look into their faces. My breath catches in my lungs as the full implications of what I just agreed to do hits me like a wrecking ball.
How the fuck am I supposed to ask Lucia to marry me instead of Gio?In Vegas, of all places.
“I’m leaving,” I mumble, before turning and almost running through the restaurant to escape the feeling of being squeezed into a corner.
And when I’m back in my penthouse apartment on the Upper East Side, I decide there’s possibly one thing worse than proposing a secret Vegas wedding, and that’s asking Lucia to marry me over the phone.
She’s due home in a couple of days, so I won’t have long to wait. I need to get my ass to Paris.
Chapter six
Lucia
Jet lag is a bitch, and I either have the worst case of it or the beginnings of a cold. I stumble over the threshold of my Paris apartment, dropping my bag in the middle of the hall as the door bangs closed behind me.
My eyelids droop, literally unable to stay open long enough to drag my body into the kitchen to make dinner, lunch, or whatever meal I’m meant to be eating now. Hunger is quickly falling in importance behind my need for sleep.
London Fashion Week, followed by a couple weeks in Tokyo, meant my days were long and hectic. But after Papa’s arranged marriage surprise, and his even more manipulative announcement of my engagement, I’ve officially lost control of my life.
