Page 29 of Of Oaths and Secrets

I thought I couldn’t get more annoyed, but her words push me further. “Is that right? You won’t care that I sleep around?”

“Well, as long as you use precautions with them,” she replies, her tone matter-of-fact. My frown deepens at her indifference. “I mean, if you want to have children with me, but then you do what you want. I’ll make sure the Lucchese name is upheld. Butthat’s all it will ever be—a role. I’ll never give you more than what’s required.”

Her words, so cold and calculated, stir something deep within me—anger and disbelief. I can’t help but feel like she’s testing me, pushing me to see how far she can go before I snap. And right now, I’m dangerously close.

“What about you?” I snarl, my voice low and dangerous. “Do you expect me to turn a blind eye to your lovers?” The fury that surges inside me at the thought of another man’s hands on her is almost blinding. I lean forward, so close that I can see the flecks of gold in her blue eyes. “If you think you can cheat, know there’s another thing coming. Because I can tell you—if you’ve never seen the monster, you will when you see me kill him in front of you.”

"No, you don't have to worry about me. You will get the faithfulness you expect from me." Her voice is steady, almost too steady as if she’s trying to convince herself as much as she’s convincing me.

I narrow my eyes at her, searching for any sign of deceit. “Good,” I say, my voice cold. “Because if you ever betray me, there won’t be a place in this world where you’ll be safe.”

The silence between us is thick, heavy with unspoken words and tension. I study her for a moment longer, trying to figure out if she’s really as resigned to this life as she claims or if there’s something more beneath that calm exterior. But she doesn’t waver; she just holds my gaze, unflinching, as if daring me to see the truth.

Finally, I step back—my mind made up. “Tomorrow, we’ll do what needs to be done,” I say, my voice hardening with resolve. “And after that, we’ll see how well you can play your role as my wife.”

“Wait!” she calls out just as my hand reaches for the door handle again.

I pause, turning back to her, a part of me hoping—though I’m not sure why—that whatever she says next will calm the simmering anger that’s been boiling inside me. This anger feels misplaced, unjustified even, because I know this marriage is nothing more than a business transaction. Yet, I can’t help but hate the way she treats it as such, even though I should be relieved that she does. Less drama, less complication.

“You can’t go out like that,” she says, pointing at my disheveled appearance.

A smile tugs at the corner of my mouth despite everything. “There’s no one in this corridor,” I assure her. “The entry is blocked. I would never do something that careless.” I take a step closer, meeting her eyes. “Know this about me, fiancée—my role in the mafia may come first, but as my wife, you will never come last.”

With that, I turn and exit the room, leaving before she can say anything else that might ignite my anger further. As I walk down the hallway, my mind churns with conflicting emotions—this marriage might be a business deal, but it’s one I’m not willing to lose control over.

Chapter Seven

Nora

Last night's conversation with Rafaele unsettled me for far too many reasons. One of them was the undeniable effect of his raw masculinity—the way he walked in, so sure of himself, and how my stomach flipped when he started to undress. I hate that, despite everything, this man has such a powerful effect on me. It's not love, but there's definitely attraction.

He may not be classically handsome, but to me, there's something undeniably compelling about him. His presence commands attention, and I can’t help but be drawn to it, even when I know I shouldn’t be. I think there must be something wrong with me because when he showed me his darker side—threatening any potential lovers—I didn’t feel the rush of fear that I probably should have. No, what I felt was a surge of heat at the possessiveness in his tone.

I run my hands over my face, trying to shake the memory. How did I end up here, on the verge of marrying a man who sees me as nothing more than a transaction yet somehow manages to make me feel more alive than I have in years? It's confusing, and worse, it's dangerous.

Today is my wedding day, and I should be thinking about what this marriage means—about duty, family, and the role I’m about to step into. But instead, my mind keeps circling back to Rafaele, to the way he looked at me last night, the way his presence filled the room, and the conflicting emotions he brings out in me.

I can’t afford to get caught up in any feelings. This marriage is a business arrangement, nothing more. I need to erase the memory of his small gestures and focus on the reality of who he truly is—the man he revealed to me last night, the one who embodies control and power, not care or affection.

I need to erase the way he insisted I come to him if I needed help with the wedding. My mother said it wasn’t about offering help; it was about asserting control. For a moment, I foolishly thought it might be something more, but then he disappeared for weeks, only to have a ridiculously expensive bag delivered to my door as if that could make up for his absence.

My mother’s warning echoes in my mind:Don’t be stupid, Nora. Don’t be like me. Actions speak louder than gifts.She’d told me how my father had acted similarly when she was still young and naive, showering her with gifts every time he hurt her. She’d thought it was because he sought forgiveness, but it was only to maintain peace and keep her compliant.

Remember who he is. Remember who you are. My mother’s voice is loud and clear in my head. My heart needs to stay guarded. I can’t let myself get hurt—not by him, not by anyone.

I glance at the clock. It’s time to get ready, and as if on cue, there’s a knock at my door. Lucia steps in, dressed in sweatpants, a sharp contrast to the elegance I’ll soon be forced into.

“Time to take you to the bridal suite,” she says, picking up the bag with my dress in it.

I take a deep breath and nod. “Let’s get this over with.”

Lucia leads me down the hallway, her usual lighthearted demeanor subdued by the gravity of the day. As we reach the bridal suite, I can’t help but feel a pang of sadness when I notice that my mother isn’t there. I’m not really surprised, but it still stings. She’s been distant throughout this whole process, and I’m not even sure she’ll show up for the ceremony.

Lucia sets the dress down gently, giving me a quick, reassuring smile. “It’s going to be fine, Nora. Just breathe.”

I nod, too wrapped up in my thoughts to engage in small talk.

A makeup artist enters the room, rolling in a small cart filled with cosmetics. She’s a slender woman with a kind smile, her hair pulled back into a neat bun. “Hello, Nora,” she greets me warmly. “I’m Sonia. Let’s get you looking even more beautiful, shall we?”

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