Page 12 of His Vow
I love my brother, but I love Lucia as a friend too. I refuse to stand by and watch anyone screw up her life. She’s suffered enough and deserves so much better than a loveless, arranged marriage.
He takes a seat opposite me. “Ant, you know this whole thing with Lucia was not my idea, and I’m as happy about it as you are.”
“But you’re the fucker who’s going to go through with it. You’re doing our father’s bidding like you always do. That’s so fucking weak, man.” My words are spit from my mouth like I’ve taken abite of something foul. I don’t want to fucking hear his excuses when he can choose not to do this.
“I never said I was going to go through with it,” Gio grumbles, and the way his gaze darkens with sadness lends credence to his words.
Gio looks like shit, his hair still holding the tracks his fingers have driven through it more than once, and his shirt crumpled like it was stuffed into the bottom of a suitcase with no attempt to hide the creases.
“Have you spoken to Lucia today?” he asks, and my brows rise. Why does he care? She’s my friend, not his.
Leo appears behind me. “He lives,” he says to Gio. “What the fuck is up with you two?” Leo is the family peacemaker, and if ever we needed his intervention, it’s now.
“Gio is going to marry Lucia. And he promised me that he wouldn’t.” I’ve no remorse at throwing Gio’s betrayal in his face, outing him first to Leo, then Nico when he joins us soon after.
“Bro, why are you marrying Lucia? I thought you liked some Australian girl,” Nico asks.
“Will you all just sit the fuck down so I can explain,” Gio demands, looking everywhere but at us.
Nico takes his seat at the table, then pours four glasses of red wine from the open bottles in the center. Leo takes the last chair.
“I don’t want to marry Lucia. And Lucia doesn’t want to marry me. The problem is that if Lucia doesn’t marry a Barbieri, according to a fucked-up contract our father signed with hers, then the majority share of the Barbieri Corporation will be transferred to Romano Holdings.”
“Why the fuck are we only hearing about this now?” Leo complains.
He’s got a point. We’ve always dealt with the big stuff together. And it doesn’t get much bigger than this arranged-marriage debacle.
“Because it’s taken the last couple of weeks for my lawyers to go through the contract line by line to try to find a way out of it,” Gio admits.
“And have they?” Leo asks.
“No. It’s rock-solid,” Gio replies, his shoulders sinking.
I thought I’d enjoy watching Gio have to explain himself, but when he looks fucking miserable, it’s hard to take any pleasure in trading jabs with someone who’s given up fighting.
One thing is clear to me: the Australian girl he recently met in Italy appears to be more than a casual fling, and for the first time, I’m beginning to see that this arranged marriage with Lucia would have multiple victims.
Rock-solid. The words he used to describe the contract echo in my brain, and a red haze clouds my better judgment again. “So that means you’re going to marry her? You can screw up your life if you want, but don’t take Lucia down with you.”
“Guys. Don’t you get that this arguing is what Dad wants? You two divided. We’re brothers, and we’ve always sorted the important shit out together,” Leo pleads, echoing the same thoughts I’d had.
I begin to argue, but Leo again interjects as the voice of reason. “No, stop. I don’t want to hear it. You’re my brothers, and I love you both, but don’t make me choose sides, because I won’t. I’d rather throw you both out of my restaurant now than do that.”
Like a couple of chastised schoolboys, our gazes dip in shame. I lean my elbows on the table and drop my head into my hands.
“I’m sorry, Leo,” Gio apologizes.
“G, I’m not who you should be apologizing to,” Leo says, and I remove one hand from my eyes and tilt my head in his direction.When did one of our younger brothers become more mature than us?
I’m still questioning this when Gio speaks again. “Ant, you should marry Lucia.”
My head springs up so fast a muscle twinges in my neck. “What the fuck is wrong with you? She’s my best friend.” I go to stand but only get halfway when Leo’s firm hand drops on my shoulder, keeping me in place. I fall back onto the chair, the option of least resistance. With Leo’s hand still holding me, I glare at Gio across the table.
“I know, which is why it makes more sense that you marry her than me.” Gio’s voice is now eerily calm, like he gets when he’s about to seal a deal.
“It’s a good idea,” Leo chimes in. “But how would that work with the contract?” He removes his hand and takes the seat beside me again.
I’m free to escape this ridiculous discussion, but Gio’s eyes have narrowed, and I can almost hear the cogs whirring behind them.
