Page 4 of Bellini Bound
“Can’t I just call my big sister to check in and see how she’s doing?”
She let out a scoff. “We’re not exactly the type of siblings who chat for hours over our shared trauma, so why don’t you cut the shit?”
“Fine. You caught me.” After a pause, I admitted, “I’m getting married.”
Gemma’s bark of laughter was so loud through the speaker that I had to hold the phone away from my face. When she finally calmed down, she let out a breathless sigh. “Whoo. Sorry. Wasn’t ready for you to hit me with a joke like that out of the blue.”
Jaw clenched, I gritted out, “It wasn’t a joke. I’m getting married.”
“Yeah, okay, sure. Not exactly believable coming from the eternal bachelor who has been adamant his entire adult life that he’s staying single.”
“People change. Look at you.”
My sister had fought hard for her independence. Kept in a metaphorical cage by our father for most of her life, she’d been nothing more than a piece of property. Women in our world were often used as bartering chips, a means to broker alliances with other powerful families. So Gemma had gone out of her way to resist, willingly taking on the physical abuse our dad handed out in response to her defiance. She’d been able to capitalize on the grief surrounding Matteo’s wife’s death to beg for her freedom, which Gio granted with the condition that she stay under the radar once she left Chicago.
And yet, despite her vehement objection to ever being tied down by another man, that hockey player boyfriend was now her husband.
“Yeah, well, we have Dad to thank for that. If I hadn’t almost lost Sasha . . .” Hearing my tough-as-nails sister sniffle shook me to the core. “I’m not sure I would have ever agreed to marry him.”
“Are you happy that you did, Gemma?” I needed to know that a seismic shift in one’s plans for the future wasn’t the march to the gallows it currently felt like.
“I am,” she replied softly. “But enough about me. Tell me about this woman who’s apparently going to be my sister-in-law.”
“Her name’s Allison.”
Gemma laughed. “Okay, that’s a start. Does Allison have a last name?”
I opened my mouth to tell her, but my brain was throbbing against my skull enough already. If my sister knew I was marrying a cop’s daughter, she’d go on the rant to end all rants about why this was a terrible idea. And it’s not like I could exactly argue that point, so it was easier to avoid the discussion altogether.
“The only one you need to concern yourself with is Bellini, since that will be her name come Saturday.”
A choking sound came down the line. “S-Saturday? As inthisSaturday?”
“That’s the one.”
“That’s two days away!” Gemma yelled.
“Believe it or not, I do own a calendar.”
“And you’re just telling me now?” Her voice continued to rise in pitch.
I turned it around on her. “Are you really going to give me a hard time about this? I didn’t find out about your wedding until days afterward. At least I’m giving you the courtesy of a heads-up.”
“My situation was different, and you know it,” she snapped.
Gemma had no idea how right she was. Our two marriages would be nothing alike. For starters, she actually loved her husband, while I could barely stomach the thought of marrying any woman, let alone one sight unseen under duress.
“It’s short notice, but I’ll see what I can do.”
When it hit me what she was implying, I shook my head, even though she couldn’t see me. “No, Gem. I didn’t tell you about the wedding with the expectation that you’d attend.”
“You’re my brother, Enzo.”
“I get that, but you’ve got your own life now. And, judging by the reports I receive from Marco, it’s a good one. I don’t want to be the reason you backslide after you’ve worked so hard to put the past behind you.”
After a beat of silence, she mused, “It’s almost as if you don’t want me there.”
That’s because I don’t. You’re gonna flip shit the minute you realize who my bride is. Or rather, who her daddy is. And I’d really prefer to deal with that headache over the phone instead of in person.
