VII

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ELENA CASSANO

        It was one of those Sunday luncheons Papà organized every week. The mansion was crawling with Italians lingering nearby in case Luca Cassano encountered a problem he couldn't fix.

We sat on the patio with a view of the large sparkling pool and rosy, red bushes. Champagne glasses filled with mimosas, clicking in unison. Everything was perfect and in place from the assortment of petite sandwiches, and crackers to the white-linen tablecloth.

        Alessio sat next to my papà, conversing with the soldiers about their latest female conquests. Nicolo held a dry look on his face like he always did during Papà's luncheon.

Valentina showed up, dressed in a plain white dress covering her round stomach and ended just below her knees. Neat. Polished like the good daughter she was.

It was the first time I saw her since our last encounter a few weeks ago. Something niggling inside me, like an ache inside my chest whenever she met my eyes.

I gave up on trying to reason with my sister. A naïve Elena years ago would have begged for her friendship, but I didn't give a fuck. I never had a chance to be soft as the daughter of Luca Cassano. I needed people to be afraid of hurting me even if it earned me names such as slut, bitch, and other colorful terms.

I exhaled a sharp breath feeling the tension settle among us. It had been a long time since everyone was present at the luncheon. Papà was seated next to Mamma, and Alessio, and they were chatting about Papà's business as usual. Things I wouldn't dare understand. I was too focused that my date was supposedly arriving today, and he was late.

Apparently, Papà found a man stupid enough to accept me. And he was even stupider to want to marry me.

"Elena." Valentina whispered into my ear. "You're right. I should have said something, called... something."

A low sigh left my lips. "I'm over it. I'm getting married again, Val."

"I'll talk to Papà." She immediately muttered under her breath. I could have almost laughed in that moment. She didn't understand.

My older sister got it easy than the rest of us. She was Papà's favorite. He allowed her to marry an outsider as an exchange for his younger daughter to uphold the name of the Cosa Nostra.

"And say what?" I whispered in hushed tones, my eyes meeting hers. "He'll tell you to stay out of it. That's all he's going to say."

She let out a heavy sigh. "That's it? You'll get married to some old man that's just going to use you for babies. That's ridiculous."

Ache burnt through my chest and haunted my soul. I knew what Valentina was saying was absolutely correct, but she didn't have a right to shame me for the things I couldn't prevent. "You were lucky, Val. The rest of us aren't lucky. You got to marry the love of your life. Congratulations."

"Elena."

I clenched my jaw. "It's fine."

I glanced up from my plate of manicotti, briefly catching piercing eyes seeming to be staring directly at me. He had absolutely no shame about getting caught or perhaps, he didn't care.

The mere sight of him caught my breath, and no matter how hard I tried, I couldn't pull myself away from those gorgeous icy eyes.

Rugged, fierce. Wretchedly gorgeous. A dark, brooding expression covered his handsome face, the edge of his thumb slowly tracing his lips and the intensity of his eyes completely swarmed me.

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