Page 4 of Unworthy Ties
Ettore frowned at me. As Don, he knew better than anyone about the dangerous waters we were treading in, but sometimes his temper got the best of him. “If I let them disrespect us, they will think they can walk all over us.”
I didn’t argue. The wisest course of action was to allow our frayed tempers to cool. Instead, I pulled a cigar from the inner pocket of my jacket and offered it to him. He accepted it with a nod and puffed away, his mood slowly lightening as he drew in the smoke and let it curl from his lips.
Although we had important business to discuss, casual conversation filled the air for the next few minutes as we allowed the tension to ease. Felix was regaling us with another one of his tales, some escapade about a woman he’d met at a bar, and even in our current state it elicited a chorus of laughter.
“I heard you’re getting married, Rocco,” Ettore said. “To the Coscia girl.”
“Yep.” I didn’t give an open-ended answer, hoping he would drop the subject.
“The hot one, or the weird goth one?” Emilio asked with a sly grin, leaning forward in his chair.
I rolled my eyes at him, wishing this conversation would end. “The ‘hot one,’” I replied dryly.
I ignored Emilio’s response as a text message pinged from my phone. It was from Tomaso Coscia.
Spend time with my daughter before the engagement party. We will see you tomorrow at two pm.
“Fuck,” I muttered. The gossip about my impending marriage had already been a nuisance, but this was another level of annoyance. I guess I’d have to go play nice with Gabriella tomorrow.
If that was even possible.
At two pm the next day I was at the Coscia’s front door. I pressed the doorbell, a sense of dread filling my body. I’d rather be doing almost anything than this. Even getting into a shootout with rival gangsters sounded more appealing at the moment. But this was not a choice—just an obligation I had to fulfill.
One of the many maids answered the front door and greeted me. “You’re looking for Ms. Gabriella, yes?”
“Looking for” wouldn’t be my first choice of words. Had to, forced to, must see were all better explanations why I was on their doorstep.
“Yes,” I responded, keeping those thoughts to myself.
“She’s in the back garden. Please follow me.”
I followed the maid through the mansion, taking in the grandeur as though it was my first time. The sweeping staircase, the polished marble floors, the paintings worth more than most people made in a lifetime—all reflected the obscene wealth of the Coscia family.
Outside, the garden was a lush oasis lined with rosebushes and fountains, a stark contrast to the forbidding exterior of themansion. The manicured lawns were dotted with sculptures, each one masterfully crafted and worth a small fortune.
The maid stopped at a set of hedges so tall that I couldn’t see what was behind them. “She’s back there. It’s the path to the gazebo area.”
“Thank you.”
I strolled through the path lined with hedges, which was almost eerie. It was impossible to see the rest of the yard from within this green tunnel. It felt like stepping into another world, one where the enormous mansion didn’t exist.
At the end of the path, I could see the gazebo, beautifully built from ornate wrought iron. Gabriella was sitting inside, and, as if she had sensed my presence, she turned to look at me.
The corner of her lip turned down, her expression changing from serene to displeased. “I had hoped you weren’t coming.”
“Well, I had hoped I didn’t have to,” I countered, mirroring her tone.
She scoffed at me and looked away; her gaze focusing on the perfectly manicured gardens around us. The afternoon sun was shining through the wrought-iron gazebo, creating dancing patterns of light and shadow on her face. Her hazel eyes seemed a bit brighter under the sunlight, and her usually tamed brown curls were a mess of sunlit coils.
I gritted my teeth and walked towards her, my footsteps echoing against the marble floor of the gazebo. “Unfortunately, what we hope for and what is required of us do not always align,” I said, coming to a stop before her.
She looked up at me, her eyes flashing with a mixture of irritation and disdain. “As your presence clearly demonstrates.”
I clenched my jaw, a muscle twitching in annoyance. “We have a shared responsibility, Gabriella. You can’t just ignore that.”
Her gaze locked onto mine, defiance burning in the depths of those hazel eyes.
“Look, I didn’t come here to argue,” I gritted through my teeth, sitting on the bench next to her.
