Page 59 of Savage Union
"You know it is." I can't keep the defensiveness from my voice.
He nods, turning his attention to his own breakfast. We eat in silence for several minutes, the strange domesticity of the moment not lost on me. If someone walked in right now, theywould see a normal couple sharing breakfast—a handsome man and his fiancée enjoying a morning together before meeting with their priest.
The illusion of normalcy is both comforting and disturbing.
"Why did you really bring me here?" I ask finally, unable to contain the question.
He looks up, his eyes meeting mine. "Because even in a cage, a bird should be allowed to sing sometimes."
CHAPTER 18
Rina
The unexpected poetryof his answer catches me off guard. Before I can respond, he continues.
"This marriage is happening, Caterina. Nothing can change that. But it doesn't have to be complete misery for you."
I set down my fork, the sweetness of blueberry pancake suddenly cloying in my mouth. "So what—you're offering me small comforts in my gilded cage? A favorite breakfast spot today, maybe a shopping trip tomorrow?"
Instead of the irritation I expect, a hint of amusement touches his lips. "You make it sound so transactional."
"Isn't it?" I challenge. "You're buying my compliance with pancakes."
"If your compliance could be bought so cheaply, we wouldn't be having this conversation." He takes another sip of coffee. "You're not easily purchased, Caterina. It's one of your more admirable qualities."
The unexpected compliment catches me off guard. "So why bother with..." I gesture at the restaurant around us, "all of this?"
"Perhaps I simply wanted to have breakfast with my fiancée in a place she enjoys." His tone is casual, but something in his expression feels almost genuine.
"Right. And next you'll tell me you're just a misunderstood businessman with a heart of gold."
To my surprise, he actually laughs—a real laugh that transforms his face completely. "No one has ever accused me of having a heart of gold."
"I wonder why," I mutter, but without the usual venom. It's hard to maintain my rage while sitting in my favorite booth, the familiar comfort of Rosie's wrapping around me.
"Tell me," he says, leaning back slightly, "what would you be doing right now if circumstances were different? If you weren't here with me?"
The question is so unexpected that I answer honestly before I can think better of it. "Probably still in grad school. I was working on my MBA before..." I trail off, unwilling to directly reference the night he killed my father.
"Before our paths crossed," he supplies smoothly. "Business, not law? I would have thought with your argumentative nature, law would be a natural fit."
I can't tell if he's teasing me or genuinely curious. "I like numbers better than words. They're more... reliable."
He nods, as if this confirms something he already suspected. "And after your MBA? What would have been next?"
"My own company, eventually. Something in financial analysis." I fiddle with my napkin, uncomfortable with how easily I'm sharing pieces of myself with him. "Why do you care?"
"Because contrary to what you might believe, I don't want to extinguish who you are." His voice drops lower, more serious. "The Donna has traditionally managed certain aspects of the family's legitimate businesses. Your education won't go to waste."
I stare at him, trying to determine if this is some elaborate mind game. "You're saying you want me to work for you?"
"With me," he corrects. "As my wife, not my employee."
The casual way he references our impending marriage makes my skin prickle with unease. "I haven't agreed to any of this."
"And yet, here we are." He gestures to the waitress for the check. "Life rarely follows the paths we imagine for ourselves."
"That's quite the philosophical take on kidnapping."
