Page 13 of Unholy Union
“You came all this way to see me?” I ask calmly. “I’m flattered, Giada.”
Tessa snorts out a laugh, not even trying to disguise the sound, in typical Tessa fashion. Giada remains where she is, towering over the both of us, her perfectly penciled right brow arching ever so slightly.
“Actually, I thought I would come give my congratulations. Isn’t it every woman’s dream to force a man to marry her?” she asks.
“You have experience with that. I don’t really follow the gossip, but I’m pretty sure most of Manhattan is aware of how you chased after Cato for years. I’m sorry I’m marrying the man you staked your claws in, but believe it or not, it’s not my choice either. If it were up to me, you could have him.”
The corner of her mouth quirks. “I still might. I’m sure he’ll eventually grow bored.”
“I found the pins!” exclaims the shop attendant. She emerges from the backroom holding up a cushion of sewing pins. The smile drops off her face when she realizes the showdown she’s stumbled across. “Oh… erm… didn’t mean to interrupt. I’ll give you all a moment alone.”
“No,” Giada says icily. “I’m done here. I just came to wish the bride good luck. Something tells me she’s going to need it.”
She spins on her heel and flounces from the shop in a cloud of perfume and passive aggression.
“Careful, Giada—jealousy causes wrinkles!” Tessa calls after her. “Ugh, I hate the way she talks to you!”
“Forget about her. She’s a distraction. Unfortunately, I have more fucked up problems.”
I sigh as I turn back toward the full-length mirror. Tessa wraps an arm around my shoulders and gives me a squeeze.
“Sab, it’s going to be alright… somehow.”
The attendant has cautiously approached to finish the alterations on my dress, kneeling at my side as she fusses with the thick satin fabric.
“I’m not sure if it is,” I say earnestly, speaking from the deep sense of dread in my belly. “But even if it isn’t, the Valentes aren’t going to win like they think they are.”
Tessa’s brows knit closer. “What does that mean?”
I meet her gaze in the mirror, my tone cool. “Text me Viola’s number.”
Chapter 5
Cato
Ave Maria - Andrea Bocelli
“The day has finally come.”
I look away from the mirror where I’m fixing the bowtie of my tuxedo and toward the doorway to the private lounge for the groomsmen.
Papà hovers, already dressed in his tuxedo for the occasion, his salt-and-pepper hair combed back from his face. His eyes are hard and unreadable as usual, the signature cologne he wears filling the room.
I return my gaze to the mirror and finish tying my bowtie. “We wanted it to be as soon as possible. That was in the best interest of both parties.”
He nods, then takes a few steps into the room.
I’ve always taken more after him—tall and broad-shouldered with a square jaw and large, strong nose. We both have dark hair and dark eyes that burn intensely yet remain an enigma to most people.
Cassian’s more of a blend between both our parents. He’s tall like Papà, with an athletic build from years of competitive swimming, but his features are more boyish, his eyes a twinkling shade of emerald green like Mama’s. His hair is dark, but not quite as dark as ours. More deep chocolate than obsidian.
Seeing my father even now, is like looking thirty years into the future in more ways than one.
Not only do I resemble him, I’m his heir who will be taking over the family soon.
“Her father thinks today makes us equals. He’ll learn quickly he’s mistaken,” he muses aloud.
“We’ll move accordingly. The Valentes’ best interests first and foremost.”
