Born in Blood Collection Volume 1 - Cora Reilly Page 0,107

I’d hoped for more time before I was forced into another union—especially as I didn’t even get to choose for myself this time.

“You are so lucky Dante Cavallaro agreed to marry you. It came as a surprise for many that he decided to take a woman who has already been married. He could have chosen from a line of eager young women, after all,” my mother said as she brushed my dark-brown hair. She didn’t mean to hurt my feelings; she was only stating the obvious. I knew it was true. Everyone did.

A man in Dante’s position didn’t have to content himself with the leftovers of another, a lesser man. That’s what most people probably thought, and yet I was supposed to marry him. I, who didn’t even want to marry someone as powerful and cunning as Dante Cavallaro. I, who wished to stay alone, if only to protect Antonio’s secret. How was I supposed to keep up the lie? Dante was known as a man who could always tell when someone was lying.

“He’ll be the Boss of the Outfit in two months, and when you marry him you’ll be the most influential woman in Chicago and the Midwest. And if you keep up your good friendship with Aria, you’ll have connections to New York as well.”

As usual my mother was way ahead, already planning world domination, while I was still trying to wrap my mind around the fact that I was supposed to marry the Boss. This was too dangerous. I wasn’t a bad liar. In the years of my marriage to Antonio I’d improved my skills continuously, but there was a big difference between lying to the outside world and lying to your husband. Anger toward Antonio resurfaced as it had so often in the past months. He’d forced me into this situation.

Mamma stepped back, admiring her work. My dark hair fell in soft glossy curls over my shoulders and back. I pushed to my feet. For the occasion, I’d chosen a cream-colored pencil skirt and a plum blouse that was tucked into my waistband, as well as modest black heels. I was one of the tallest women in the Outfit at five foot eight, and naturally my mother worried Dante would be put off if I wore high heels. I didn’t bother to point out that Dante was still at least five inches taller than me; I wouldn’t have been taller than him even with heels. And this wouldn’t be the first time he saw me anyway. We’d met a couple of times at mafia functions and had even shared a brief dance at Aria’s wedding in August three months ago. Still we’d never exchanged more than the expected pleasantries, and I’d certainly never gotten the impression that Dante was even remotely interested in me. But he was known for being closed off, so who knew what was really going on in that head of his?

“Has he dated since his wife died?” I asked. Usually that kind of gossip spread quickly in our circles, but maybe I missed it. The older women of the family often knew about others’ dirty laundry first. To be honest, gossiping was the main occupation for most of them.

Mamma smiled sadly. “Not officially. Rumor has it he couldn’t let go of his wife, but it’s been more than three years and now that he’s about to become the boss of the Outfit, he can’t hang on to the memory of a dead woman. He needs to move on and produce an heir.” She put her hands on my shoulders and beamed at me. “And you’ll be the one to give him a beautiful son, sweetheart.”

My stomach dropped. “Not today.”

My mother shook her head with a laugh. “Soon enough. The wedding is in two months.” If it were up to Mamma and Papà, the marriage would have taken place weeks ago. They were probably worried Dante might change his mind about me.

“Valentina! Livia! Dante’s car pulled just up,” Papà called.

Mamma clapped her hands, then winked. “Let’s make him forget his wife.”

I hoped she wouldn’t say something that tasteless when Dante was around. I followed her downstairs and tried to put on my most sophisticated expression. Papà opened the door. I couldn’t remember the last time he’d actually answered the door. Usually he let Mamma or me do it, or our maid, but even I could tell that he was practically bouncing with eagerness. Did he really have to make it so obvious that