Page 12 of Dario DeLuca

“Got it handled, little sister.”

The line goes quiet for a beat, and I sense there’s more she wants to say. She’s always been curious, digging into things and not stopping until satisfied with the answer.

“Well. Tell me about her.” She huffs. “Do you at least like your soon-to-be bride?”

My sister’s question bounces around in my head as I pick up one of the pictures from the stack before me. I glance down at the photo, taking in the image of the woman who’s about to be my wife.

She’s laughing and eating with some friends at a local brunch spot. Mia is living life completely unaware the camera is watching her. Clueless to the danger that’s been following her around the city.

I study her, tracing her features with my mind. She’s gorgeous, I’ll give her that. Buttery smooth skin, teeth so white they’re blinding, but her eyes speak to me the most. Big, deep eyes that seem like she can see right through you.

My mind goes back to the other day when her father told her she was meant to be mine and the defiance that seeped from her. I can’t help but admire her fight and her strength. But I recall a hint of fear behind those beautiful eyes.

It’s understandable. After all, what young woman wouldn’t quake at the thought of being married off to a virtual stranger? Let alone one with my reputation and power.

“She’s…” I pause, grasping for the right words. “Not what I expected.”

“You like her, don’t you?” Carmela asks, a smile hidden in her voice.

“I told you. It’s business.”

“Oh, spare me the macho bull. You forget I know you, fratello.”

I drop the picture.

“This is more than business. I can tell.”

“You’re wrong, sorellina.”

“You fool only yourself, Dario. Is she pretty?”

I contemplate my answer and steal one more glance at the images. “She’s not bad to look at.”

Carmela chuckles. “I’m sure. Well, I’ll add her as your plus-one to the wedding. Have you told Mama?”

“Figured you’ll take care of that for me now that you know.”

She gasps. “Are you saying I talk too much?”

“Those are your words, not mine.”

A knock at the door pulls my attention away from the call. Rafael stands in the entryway, waiting for me to wave him in.

“Vaffanculo.”Screw you. Carmela snips.

“Come in,” I wave Rafael over and continue talking to my sister. “Kiss Mama for me.”

“Hey, Carmela. Are you going with the colors I picked?” Rafael says loud enough for her to hear.

“Yes. Thank you.

“She said thank you.”

Rafael only nods.

“I need to discuss some things with our cousin. I’ll call you next week.

“You better. And send us pictures of this woman you’ll be marrying.”

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