"So, you make him dump you." Gia's voice pulls me back to the present. "Make him so miserable he walks away on Day Forty."
"Hopefully way before Day Forty." I smooth down my dress, checking my reflection one more time. "I'll be the worst girlfriend he's ever had. Annoying, clingy, crazy. Whatever it takes."
"Papa will be mad." Gia stands, walking over to adjust my necklace. "Even though he taught you about the business, he hoped we would be more like Mama. Quiet and supportive but content to stay out of the details."
I think about my mother, Elena Costa. Beautiful, gracious, the perfect mafia wife. She runs the household, plans the charity galas, stays far away from anything that might be considered actual business. She's never questioned my father's decisions. Never challenged tradition.
She's exactly what Papa wants me to become.
"Well, he's going to get his wish." I meet my sister's eyes. "I'll be so obedient, so eager to please, so desperately devoted that Santino Marcello will run away."
"Are you absolutely sure about this? He's Vincent Marcello's son. Grew up in this life. He knows how things work."
"Even better. Men who grow up with power think they're untouchable. They think they can handle anything. He's not going to see me coming."
"And if he figures out what you're doing?"
"He won't." I inject confidence I don't entirely feel into my voice. "Men like Santino Marcello have expectations. They want a beautiful wife, a powerful name, control of an empire. He's going to get the beautiful wife part. Everything else?" I smile. "That's where things get interesting."
Gia looks worried. "What if you actually like him?"
I freeze. "What? No way."
"I'm serious. What if he's not what you expect? What if he's different?"
"Then I'll admire him from a distance." I pull free. "After he dumps me."
"But what if you can't go through with it? What if you start to care?"
"Gia." I turn to face her fully. "This is our family. Our legacy. Everything I've worked for, everything I've trained for. I'm not handing it to some man just because tradition says so. I don't care if Santino Marcello is the most charming, attractive, perfect man on the planet. He's not getting our family business."
My sister studies me for a long moment, then nods. "Okay. But for the record? I think this is going to be harder than you think."
"Noted." I head for the door, then pause. "How do I look?"
"Like a woman about to ruin a man's life."
"Thanks for the compliment."
I take the stairs down to the main floor where the meeting will happen. Our house is full of people. Costa family members, associates, soldiers. They all watch me descend, and I can read their thoughts like they're written on their faces.
Poor Liana. Being married off to the Marcellos. At least Santino's handsome. That'll make it easier. Wonder if she knows what she's getting into.
I keep my expression serene, my spine straight. They can think whatever they want. In forty days, I'll still be here, still in control, and Santino Marcello will be a distant memory.
Uncle Tommaso intercepts me at the bottom of the stairs. He's my father's younger brother, and he's been trying to position himself as the family's future second-in-command. Another man who thinks he deserves power more than I do.
"Liana." He kisses both my cheeks, his cologne overwhelming. "You look beautiful. Your father is very pleased about this arrangement."
"Is he?" I keep my voice light. "Or is he just pleased he found someone to take over so he doesn't have to deal with having a daughter in charge?"
Tommaso's smile tightens. "The Marcellos are a powerful family. This alliance strengthens both sides. You should be honored they’re interested."
"Honored that I get to be a bargaining chip?" I tilt my head. "Oh, Uncle, I'm overflowing with gratitude."
"Careful now, someone might hear you." His voice drops. "You may not like this arrangement, but it's happening. Don't embarrass the family."
I want to tell him that the family embarrassed itself when it decided a woman couldn't lead. That I'm more qualified than half the men in this room. That if he thinks I'm going to quietly hand over my birthright, he's delusional.
