Born in Blood Collection Volume 1 - Cora Reilly Page 0,11

I don’t sneak out again?” I challenged him.

“Better get used to it. Now that Luca’s put a ring on your finger, he’ll make sure you’re always guarded.”

I slammed the door shut. Guarded. Even from afar Luca would be controlling me. I’d thought my life would go on as it used to until the wedding, but how could it when everyone knew what the ring on my finger meant? Raffaele’s pinky was a signal, a warning. Luca had made his claim on me and would enforce it in cold blood.

I didn’t extinguish the lights that night, worried the darkness would bring back images of blood and cut-off limbs. They came anyway.

CHAPTER THREE

My breath clouded as it left my lips. Even my thick coat couldn’t protect me from Chicago’s winter. Snow crunched under my boots as I followed Mother along the pavement toward the brick building, which harbored the most luxurious wedding store in the Midwest. Umberto trailed closely behind, my constant shadow. Another of my father’s soldiers made up the rear, behind my sisters.

Revolving brass doors let us into the brightly lit store and the owner and her two assistants immediately greeted us. “Happy birthday, Ms. Scuderi,” she said in her lilting voice.

I forced a smile. My eighteenth birthday was supposed to be a day for celebration. Instead it only meant I was another step closer to marrying Luca. I hadn’t seen him since that night he’d cut off Raffaele’s finger. He’d sent me expensive jewelry for my birthdays, Christmas holidays, Valentine’s days and the anniversary of our engagement, but that was the extent of our contact in the last thirty months. I’d seen photos of him with other women on the Internet, but even that would stop today when our engagement would be leaked to the press. At least in public he wouldn’t flaunt his whores anymore.

I didn’t kid myself into thinking he wasn’t still sleeping with them. And I didn’t care. As long as he had other women to screw, he’d hopefully not think about me in that way.

“Only six months until your wedding, if I’m correctly informed?” the shop owner piped. She was the only person who looked excited. No surprise really—she would make a lot of money today. The wedding that marked the final union of the Chicago and the New York mafia was supposed to be a splendid affair. Money was irrelevant.

I inclined my head. One hundred sixty-six days until I had to exchange one golden cage for another. Gianna gave me a look that made it clear what she thought of the matter, but she kept her mouth shut. At sixteen and a half, Gianna had finally learned to rein in her outbursts, mostly.

The shop owner led us into the fitting room. Umberto and the other man stayed outside the drawn curtains. Lily and Gianna plopped down on the plush white couch while Mother began browsing the wedding gowns on display. I stood in the middle of the room. The sight of all the white tulle, silk, gossamer, and brocade, and my knowledge of what it stood for, corded up my throat. I’d be a married woman soon. Quotes about love decorated the walls of the fitting room; they felt like a taunt considering the harsh reality that was my life. What was love but a silly dream?

I could feel the eyes of the shop owner and her assistants on me, and squared my shoulders before I joined my mother. Nobody could know that I wasn’t the happy bride-to-be, but a pawn in a game of power. Eventually, the shop owner approached us and showed us her most expensive gowns.

“What kind of gown would your future husband prefer?” she asked pleasantly.

“The naked kind,” Gianna said, and my mother shot her a glare. I flushed, but the shop owner laughed as if it was all too delightful.

“There’s time for that on the wedding night, don’t you think?” She winked.

I reached for the most expensive dress in the collection, a dream of brocade; the bustier was embroidered with pearls and silvery threads forming a delicate flower pattern. “Those are platinum threads,” the shop owner said. That explained the price. “I think your groom will be pleased with your choice.”

Then she knew him better than I did. Luca was as much a stranger to me today as he had been almost three years ago.

* * *

The wedding would be held in the vast gardens of the Vitiello mansion in the Hamptons. Everyone was already abuzz with the preparations.