Mercenary (Gangsters of New York #3) - Bella Di Corte Page 0,41

in Tito's ear, “She is too gorgeous.”

The four words bothered me at dinner. I was quiet for most of it, thinking over the comment and its true meaning.

She is too gorgeous.

“Ah,” Tito had said when I mentioned it. “Your grandfather and Carmine were of the same mind when it came to one term of the arrangement. That she be plain.”

That she be plain.

Rosa made sense, though it seemed like Tito was being a little generous. She had hips that were padded enough not to bruise when she bumped me hard with them.

She is too gorgeous. She should be plain.

I had come to a conclusion, but I knew it was only a matter of time before my grandfather came out with the reason in a blunt explanation.

He sat on a bench by himself, looking over the party like a king. A king who ruled a major family, whose reach spanned from New York to Palermo. There was a reason why he had exiled me here. He could hide me in the mountains.

He knew this territory like the back of his hand. He grew up traversing the terrain, climbing the mountains and setting sail on the sea. This was his world, even though he had a kingdom in New York.

He was not a benevolent old man, full of acceptance and bedtime stories. I had once read a book about his life as one of the most powerful Godfathers in history. The book spanned back to his time in Palermo, when he had walked with a priest along the shore of the Mediterranean as a young man. The priest was a family friend who wanted to save his soul before it was too late.

“I walked next to the devil that day,” the priest had recounted. “There was no line between good and evil, only what had to be done.”

It was not hard for me to read my grandfather's thoughts. I usually knew when he was going to nod—a subtle, deadly move—a second before he did it. I was quicker than him, but we usually came to the same conclusions. I knew that the one second I had on him was the reason he wanted me married and settled. That one second could make a difference when it came to the longevity and success of the family.

That one second was the reason, as he watched my wife dance with her family, that he wondered whether I had been too hasty in my choice. Whether he should have taken matters into his own hands and picked a woman like Rosa himself.

I had surprised him, which was unusual. He couldn't predict my exact actions, but he already knew the mistakes I would make and the level of success I would achieve. He had groomed me to become him, but better.

There was always this drive inside of me to become better than him. It was the reason they all called me Scorpio. I never let go of what I wanted, once my mind was set. I would have what I wanted no matter how high the cost.

My eyes rested on her. She was worth heaven in hell.

My grandfather’s eyes were on her, too, but harder with judgment. It rubbed me the wrong fucking way, but out of respect, I bit my tongue.

“I didn't expect her,” he said, finally getting to the point. “Martina would have done.” He was quiet for a minute, studying my wife even harder. The cross around her neck glinted against the lace in the glow of the candlelight. “You could have kept this one on the side.”

Martina was the daughter of one of his men. She was the girl next door, and she could cook. Whenever we had family functions, she was the type to help bring them to order.

Simply put: wife material.

She would be the kind of wife who kept to the kitchen and didn't question why her husband smelled like blood and another woman's perfume at night.

All part of the life. The excess of it.

Besides, they liked to keep it in the family, so to speak.

The only thing the wives and the goomahs—mistresses—had in common: both were sworn to loyalty, both in same and different ways.

I considered all of this before the night I spent with Alcina under the moon. All of the temptations that were not temptations before I left New York, but fucks that came with no strings attached. I had decided that I would set that one rule for myself. No other women. I wouldn’t hurt Alcina in