Page 10 of Dario DeLuca

“No. I think it’s something else, but I have no proof, and my dad is adamant that this is what’s best.”

“Maybe he just needs you as a figurehead. Like a fake marriage type thing.”

“Could be. All I know is that I’m not going through with this, fake or not.”

“What are you going to do?”

"Run. I can't marry him, Gabby. I can't bind myself to a man I don’t know and certainly not one with whispers of violence surrounding him."

“I thought the mafia rumors were debunked,” she adds.

I scoff. “They were, but after this shit…This is something straight out of one of those dark romances you had me reading. And in those books, they are always in the mob.”

Gabby laughs. “True, but this is real life.”

“Yeah, well, this isn’t about to be my life.”

“How do you plan on getting out of this?” she asks, her tone laced with concern.

"I don’t know, to be honest. Help me think, Gabby. He's clever, obviously. I mean, he launched a campaign in a matter of days and somehow managed to scare the strongest man I know into this foolish scheme. But there must be a weakness, a chink in his armor." My voice is steady now, the tremor replaced by a cold determination. "I'll use our resources to get it. I have followers on the blog, and surely someone knows about his family in this city. I’ll uncover every dirty secret that led to this so-called arrangement."

The pieces begin to align in my mind, a strategy forming from chaos.

"Be careful, Mia. If he's who they say he is..." Gabrielle says, her concern evident in her voice.

"Always am," I murmur. “I’ll see you in a few minutes, and we can talk more then.”

“Okay, see you soon.”

The line falls silent, and I finish packing my things. After grabbing my phone charger and toiletries, I change into sneakers and start my journey.

Along the way, I can hear my parents in the office still arguing over this sham of a marriage. It pains me to listen totheir voices raised. Never in my life have I ever known them to argue, but I must leave.

I refuse to be a pawn in their games. From now on, I’m no longer the dutiful daughter silenced and bartered for.

FIVE

DARIO

The phone vibratesagainst the desk in my condo in the city. It’s a relentless pulse I’ve ignored for days. I glance at the caller ID, my sister Carmela’s name staring back at me.

“Finally picked up, huh?” Her voice is pure Sicilian fire, laced with mock irritation and genuine concern.

A sigh escapes my lips, heavy, tasting of duty and familial obligation mingled with the bitterness of neglect. “Bene, anche a te ciao.”Well, hello to you, too.

“Mi hai ignorato.” Carmela pouts.You’ve been ignoring me.

“I haven’t been ignoring you, sorellina. Just busy.”

“Over a week, fratello. You’re so busy you can’t make time for your only sister?”

I smirk. It’s just like her to play the only sister card. Spoiled is what she is, but there’s no one to blame but us.

“What do you need?”

“Nothing, now,” she adds. “I had to get Rafael’s opinion on the color palette because you couldn’t be bothered.”

She should know by now that wedding details are as foreign to me as innocence is to our bloodline.

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