to the arrangements? You’ll let me know when to put the call out to our men?”
Angelo nodded.
“Fine.” Luca stood and with a chin nod at me, he left the room. Tor also rose, and without so much as a fare-thee-well, stalked after his brother.
“That was sneaky and rotten of you,” I said.
“I do what has to be done for the family,” Angelo said, peering into the fire.
“Right, the family,” I said. I leaned my head against the chair in sudden exhaustion.
“You’re a Moretti. Whether you want to be or not. Even when you marry Hadrian, you will still be a Moretti. You will always be a Moretti.”
“And therefore a pawn in your elaborate chess game? I reject the burden that comes with the Moretti name.”
“It doesn’t matter what you want. Blood is blood.”
“Did you love my mother?” I asked suddenly.
“Of course I loved her. She was impossible not to love.”
“And yet her happiness was never a thought, never considered.”
“My happiness was never a thought, never considered.” His eyes darkened. “I had an arranged marriage. The only happiness that came from that union were my children. That’s all Moretti—or any of the five families—can hope for.”
I shook my head. “Sad. So incredibly sad. Lives wasted. And for what? Arranged marriages, unions that breed only hatred.”
“You won’t change our ways, Sterling.”
“I know,” I said.
“Then what is it you want?”
“I’m lost to you,” I said. “I want Hadrian, and he wants me.”
“That’s already been decided,” Angelo stated.
“I’m carrying his baby. You have no claim on my child. If I bear a son, he will not become a Moretti mercenary. If I bear a daughter, she will not be a pawn to marry off.”
Angelo didn’t reply right away. Finally, he said, “All right. This child, and any other you bear, will be in control of their own lives.”
“Why should I trust you?”
“You shouldn’t. But I won’t cross your future husband again. Even now, he could be planning retaliation. I don’t want any Moretti blood spilled over a vendetta. It’s too precious to waste.”
We fell into a pensive silence. I sipped my hot chocolate, wondering when I could escape the tragedy that was this room.
Angelo’s eyes softened when he looked into the fire again. “Will you tell me? Where she’s buried?”
I swallowed. “Why?”
“So I can bring her home. Where she belongs.”
“She took her own life,” I reminded him. “Doesn’t that violate the sanctity of The Church?”
“I think God will forgive her for protecting her child.” He paused. “Besides, it’s the family crypt and we have different rules than The Church.”
I told him the name of the town where she’d been laid to rest.
“Thank you,” he said, voice grave.
“You’re welcome.”
We would never be close—my uncle and I—there was too much between us. But there, in that moment, we both silently drank to the life of a woman we’d both loved and failed to protect.
In that moment, we were family.
Chapter Thirty-Eight
I woke up in the middle of the night, wondering what had caused me to stir. I reached for Hadrian, surprised that he was gone. How had he managed to get himself out of bed without me knowing?
I looked to the balcony doors. They were open, and moonlight streamed into the room, but I couldn’t see him out there. I was just about to get up when the bedroom door opened.
Letting out a squeak in surprise, I hastily pulled the sheet up to my chin. But it was only Gisella and Beatrice.
Beatrice hit the light switch and the room brightened.
“What the hell are you doing?” I asked Beatrice. “It’s the middle of the night!”
My glare transferred from my aunt to my cousin, both of whom were in formal wear. “What time is it? Why are you dressed like that?”
Gisella and Beatrice exchanged a smile.
“Where’s Hadrian?”
“It’s just past midnight,” Gisella said. “Do you want to wear a sheet to the party, or would you rather wear a dress?”
“Party? At this hour?” I asked.
“Family only,” Beatrice said. “Come on, everyone else is already dressed and waiting.”
My sluggish mind refused to comprehend what was going on, but I let them pull the sheet away from my body. I didn’t bother with modesty as I slid into undergarments and then the dress Beatrice had pulled out of the armoire.
It was a red, strapless confection and hit just above the knee. I thought about pulling my hair up but Gisella shook her head. “Leave it down.”