“Champagne, sir?” the servant asks.
“No,” I say with my voice dripping in annoyance as I narrow my eyes.
Bowing his head, he says, “Yes, sir. The other guests are out on the patio. If you would make your way out to the terrace, Mister Costa is waiting for all guests to arrive to start the festivities.”
Out of the corner of my eye, I communicate with Angelo with only a look, and he nods his head in agreement. Moving my gaze away from the server, my feet start to carry me to the outdoor patio with Angelo at my back. The voices and the music get louder with each step I take and with each one, my irritation grows at this fucking pomp and circumstance.
Reaching the entryway, I scan the room and my eyes land on fucking Ciro Costa, who is having an expressive conversation with Luca Grasso, the Don of the Grasso family. Ciro smiles wide like his fucking statue is out front and I can see the irritation on Luca’s face. Luca is dressed in his everyday attire. Pinstripe black and white suit, a matching vest and a crisp white button-up shirt. His jet-black hair is now sporting some gray, but the man is built like a fucking brick house. By the look of the conversation, you can tell he would rather be anywhere else.
The corte players are playing toward the left of the, near the entry of the doors when I approach.
Ciro does not look his age of approaching seventy with hair black as his soul with eyes to match. This man is built like a fucking football player which would explain the countless mistresses he brings into his bed. Circo is nothing but a goddamn snake dressed in expensive suits.
As if he can sense my presence, he turns his head to see me. He puts on the act that he is excited to see that I have accepted his invitation. Though I caught the rage in his black soulless eyes.
Gesturing with his arms, he greets me. “Ah, Don Ricci. So, delighted that you could make an appearance this evening. I hope you let loose and enjoy yourself.” His hand reaches out for me to shake.
I accept his greeting. “How could I have missed this lavish event you have put together?” This is the last fucking place that I want to be at this moment. Whatever he is planning is slaezy and I don’t like how this is feeling. Out of my periphery, I see Luca staring at Ciro with a blank stare as he sips on his drink.
Ciro claps his hands before he says, “Well, if you excuse me gentlemen, I need to go find that gorgeous wife of mine.” He downs the glass of bourbon before he saunters off away from the table.
Internally, I groan at his adoration for his wife, Maria. She is the definition of a wife to a Don. “What an event to celebrate his eldest daughter’s twentieth birthday.” Luca turns to me, setting his drink down on the table. “I would not be surprised if Ciro into bed with someone who has more power than him. Or I should say money.”
My eyes narrow at his response. “Ciro does what is in the best interest of himself without a care for how it affects anyone else around him. This event he has thrown is typical Ciro fashion to make himself seem more important than the bastard is.”
Luca growls and swirls the remaining contents of his drink. “You’re correct, Enzo. Ciro is a fucking snake. I wouldn’t be shocked if he is announcing the marriage of his eldest daughter. But the question I have is who did he sell her off to.”
“Boss, I told you something was fishy about this,” Angelo whispers to me over my shoulder.
I’m about to spin on my heels to find Ciro to see about getting a response out of him to what he is planning here tonight. Though I don’t get a chance to move until I see him standing by the doors where we came in from. The French doors are shut.Next to him is Maria, Joseph, his son who is next in line to run the Costa family and Lucia their youngest daughter. Luca was right because Ciro has three children, and his eldest daughter is not with the four of them.
“Thank you all for coming to my home tonight,” he says into the microphone in his hands. “It’s a very special night for my family as we are celebrating two milestone events for the Costa Family.” My jaw grinds where I can feel one of my teeth crack and the anger courses through my veins that Ciro possibly has gone to the barbaric custom of arranged marriages that are no longer used a merging tactic. “This is my daughter, Isabella is twentieth birthday and her engagement!”
People clap around me.
My hardened gaze moves from the fucking snake to the opening of the doors to see Isabella step forward and stand at the threshold. Tracing my eyes from the exposed tan leg from the slit of her black dress to the way it hugs and enhances her curves, I gape at the swell of her voluptuous breasts. Her shoulders are bare and her perfect golden kissed skin glows. The slenderness of her neck begs for me to run my tongue along and bite to leave my mark on her. Trailing up to her lips. Her bottom lip is slightly bigger than her top, but both are kissable and fuckable. She has on an appropriate amount of makeup compared to her mother, but to be honest, I would prefer none. With her natural beauty, she does not need it. Her eyes. Fuck. The color reminds me of a sapphire with the deepness of the color. Her dark chestnut hair is up with a few strands cradling her soft face. She is stunning.
“Boss,” Angelo whispers behind me making me turn my gaze to Ian Di Marco.
My lip curls at the sight of him wrapping his arm around Isabella, pulling her closer to him. She peers up at him with the smallest of smiles as he picks up her hand to kiss.
Without removing my gaze, I growl through my gritted teeth to Angelo. “If Costa thinks merging with his enemy is the right move, then I will become his number one enemy.”
The plan is forming before I even blink.
“Isabella, you should really wear your hair down,” My mother scrunches up her nose as the makeup artist is putting the finishing touches on her hair. “Honestly, when you wear it up, it shows how round and puffy your face is. I highly doubt that your new fiancé is going to want that to be the first thing he sees.” The makeup artist tries to hide her disgust from her sharp words.
I try to not let her words get under my skin, but I’m used to it at this point. Most of my life it has always been a dig about my weight. My eating habits. My choice in clothing. How I wear my hair. My favorite, when I was ten, she told me that it would benefit me if I stopped eating all together. Basically, starve myself just so I could be skinny and that I would be more attractive. I tried. I really tried. But it made me nauseous and lightheaded, to the point I passed out in my science class. The sweet nurse gave me some water and pretzels to help. My mom didn’t even bother coming to the school, her luncheon was more important.
Expecting to see the young girl I grew up with, I was taken back by how different she looked. The makeup artist made her perfect features more pronounced, and her beauty seems effortless. I know deep down my father will soon beat her confidence and her ability to be head strong out of her.
“Bella, don’t let Mom get to you. You know how she is,” Lucia says as she leans into me, sitting in the chair next to me. Her makeup is flawless, and her soft curls sit perfectly on her shoulders. “You look stunning, big sis!” She reaches to squeezemy hand and says softly, “Enjoy your night as best as you can. Let’s pretend our parents are not forcing us to do what they want. Tonight, we are not their puppets, but queens!”
A deep sigh escapes me as I stare at myself in the mirror. “I rather pretend to be someone else, tonight or any day. It would be so nice to not be the daughter of a mafia Don and to live life the way I want to.” Closing my eyes, I turn to face my sister as my makeup artist looks for her setting spray. “That’s all I can do is dream. Tonight, I will put on the fake smile like I’m the happiest woman in the room marrying someone who dad thinks would be a good move for the family. Be the daughter they expect me to be, or well demand.” My voice hardens at the last word out of my mouth.
Her face softens with heartache in her blue eyes. “I hate this for you, me and Joseph. Mostly you because you are the oldest. And Joseph is expected to take dad’s role when the asshole dies. None of us get to choose our paths.”
I smile lightly. “Tonight, we can pretend. We pretend that dad does not control our every move and that I chose Ian. We will let tonight be what it is of showing two people coming together as one. Even though I wish there was a way to not go through with it.”
