Chapter 2 Alejandra

ALEJANDRA

Dad was acting strange during dinner. He kept staring at me as if he was on the verge of saying something but never did. Mom looked like she'd gotten an invitation to an exclusive Chanel summer sale.

When I was done with dinner, I waited for Dad to excuse me. I wanted to finish the painting I began this morning. Now that I was finished with high school, I'd been using my free time to improve my painting skills.

He cleared his throat. "We need to talk to you."

"Okay," I said slowly. The last time Dad began a conversation like that, he'd told me that my fiancé had been killed during a Bratva attack. It hadn't hit me like it should have, considering our planned future, but I'd only met him once and that had been many years ago. Mom had been the only one who'd cried bitter tears, mainly because his death meant I was left without a fiancé at seventeen. That was a scandal in the making.

"We've found you a new husband."

"Oh," I said. It wasn't that I hadn't expected to be married off soon, but given my age, I was hoping they would have involved me in the process of finding my future husband.

"He's Underboss!" It burst out of Mom as she beamed at me.

My eyebrows rose. No wonder she was enthusiastic. My late fiancé had only been the son of a Captain, nothing to get too excited about-in Mom's opinion.

I wracked my brain for an Underboss close to my age, but came up empty-handed. "Who is he?" Dad avoided my eyes. "Damion Mancini."

My mouth dropped open. Dad often talked to me about business if he needed to vent because Mom wasn't interested in the details. The name Mancini had been making the rounds for months now. The cruelest Underboss of the Famiglia had lost his wife and was now left to raise his two little kids alone. Speculations on how and why his wife had died were rampant, but only the Capo knew the details. Some said Mancini had killed his wife in a rage, while others said she'd become sick living under his strict rule. There were even people that speculated she'd killed herself to escape his cruelty. Neither rumor made me want to meet the man, much less marry him.

"He's much older than me," I said eventually.

"Thirteen years, Alejandra. He's a man in his prime," Mom admonished.

"Why does he want me?" I hadn't even met him. He didn't know me. And what was worse: I had no clue how to raise kids.

"You are a Casella. The joining of two important families is always desirable," Mom said.

I looked at Dad, but he was staring at his wine glass. The last thing he'd said to me about Damion Mancini was that Phoenix made him Underboss because the two of them were alike-both irrevocably cruel, pitiless, and built like bulls.

And now he was giving me to a man like that.

"When?" I asked. Given Mom's excitement, all the details must have already been decided.

"One day after your birthday," Mom said.

"I'm surprised you waited for me to become of age. It's not like we're a law-abiding society in general."

Mom pursed her lips. "I hope you get rid of that snappiness before you meet Damion. A man like him won't tolerate your insolence."

My hands curled into fists under the table. Mom was likely the driving force behind the marriage.

She was always trying to better our position in the Famiglia.

She smiled then stood. "I better start looking for a location. This will be the event of the year."

She patted my cheek like I was a cute little poodle who'd won her a trophy in a dog show. Noticing my sour expression, she frowned. "I'm not sure Damion will approve of your sullenness... or your bangs."

"She looks fine, Josephine," Dad said firmly.

"She looks pretty and young, not sophisticated and ladylike."

"If Damion wants a lady, he should stop robbing cradles," I muttered.

Mom gasped, clapping a hand over her heart like I would single-handedly put her into an early grave. Dad tried to mask a laugh by coughing.

Mom wasn't fooled. She pointed a warning finger at him. "Talk some sense into your daughter. You know Damion. I always told you to be stricter with her." She turned and left with a swoosh of her long skirt.

Dad sighed. He gave me a tired smile. "Your mother only wants what's best for you."

"She wants what's best for our standing. How's marrying a cruel old man good for me, Dad?"

"Come on," Dad said, standing. "Let's take a walk in the garden."

I followed him. He held out his arm, and I took it. The air was warm and humid and hit me like a wrecking ball. "Damion isn't that old, Alejandra. Only thirty-one."

I tried to think of men his age, but I never really paid attention to men. Wasn't Phoenix around his age? Thinking of my cousin wasn't a consolation; he scared me senseless. If Damion was like that...

What if he was a disgusting fat brute? I looked up at Dad. His brown eyes softened. "Don't look at me like I betrayed you. Becoming Damion's wife isn't as bad as you might think."

"Irrevocably cruel. That's what you called him. Do you remember?"

Dad nodded guiltily. "To his men and the enemy, not you."

"How can you be sure? Why did his wife die? How? What if he killed her? Or abused her so horribly that she took her own life?" I sucked in a deep breath, trying to calm myself.

Dad pushed my bangs out of my face. "I've never seen you so scared." He sighed. "Phoenix assured me that Damion didn't have a hand in his wife's death."

"Do you trust Phoenix? Didn't you tell me he's trying to establish his power?"

"I shouldn't have told you so much."

"And how can Phoenix be sure of what happened to Mrs. Mancini? You know how it is. Even a Capo doesn't get involved in family matters."

Dad gripped my shoulders. "Damion won't lay a hand on you if he knows what's good for him."

We both knew Dad couldn't do anything once I was married to Damion. And if we were being honest, he wasn't someone who would risk getting into a conflict he would lose. Phoenix preferred Damion to my father. If he had to choose between the two, Dad would find a quick end.

"He'll come to meet you tomorrow."

I took a step back, shocked. "Tomorrow?"