The Rocchetti Queen - Bree Porter Page 0,77

hoped to marry you to someone…different. But we cannot look a gifted horse in the mouth.”

His wording surprised me. There was a strange resignation to them as if Papa hadn’t been totally on board with my marriage into the Rocchetti clan, despite the connections and business deals he would surely receive from it.

I didn’t point it out. He would deny it.

Papa walked around his desk and put a heavy hand to my shoulder. “I do not wish to cause you any more grief, Sophia, but the fact is I will not live forever, and I would like to assurance that my daughter is well-looked after when I’m gone. By your husband and then your son.”

With the way the Rocchettis went through women, I doubted I would live to see my son.

“When is the wedding?” I squeaked.

“It is planned for the 25th of January.”

That wasn’t even six months away. Engagements took place over years—decades, even! But not even half a year? That was not how things were done.

“You will have to get a dress soon,” he said. “Take some of your cousins and go pick one out. You will enjoy that.”

I nodded, not really listening. “When…when is the engagement party?”

“There is not enough time to plan an engagement party and a wedding,” Papa said. “You will just have to make do without one. But Alessandro will be over to present your ring to you. I expect you to be on your best behavior.”

Best behavior? I felt like screaming, like pulling down the wallpaper with my fingernails. I felt like lunging at my father and hurting him. I wanted to howl and scream and hurt—

But instead I smiled delicately at Papa.

After all, he had no ill will toward me. It was just business.

My fear of the Rocchettis only intensified as the knowledge of my engagement began to sink in.

Even the household staff gave me pitying looks, and Dita made a special effort to make all my favorite foods. There was a sense of them knowing exactly what would happen to me when I was in the care of the Rocchettis.

The same thing that had happened to any of the other women who had come into contact with those horrible men.

My engagement became public soon after Papa had told me, leading to hundreds of phone calls from relatives and associates. Though a wedding was something to be celebrated, I could hear the slight terror in their voices. That barb of fear that the Rocchettis so easily struck in people’s hearts.

Oh, poor little Sophia, I could hear them saying, she’s not going to survive the Rocchettis.

First her mother, then her sister and now herself.

When the day came, I sat at the end of my bed, knees pressed together. I felt almost defeated—embarrassingly so.

I had been ready for hours, waiting on The Godless to make his arrival. Would this be our entire marriage? Me waiting on him, dressed to the nines? I could only hope.

If I was lucky, we might even become one of those estranged couples. It wasn’t uncommon. Often wives took up residence in the main home, raising the children, while the husbands spent most of their time at their other residences with women more willing than their wives.

However, that was if I lived that long. Rocchetti women had the strange habit of...disappearing. From Don Piero’s wife to my husband’s mother, the women seemed to...simply disappear.

One day I might very well be...simply gone.

The knock at the door startled me.

“Miss Sophia?” came Dita’s voice. “Mr Rocchetti is here. Time to hurry up.”

I swallowed so loudly I was certain Dita could hear it on the other side of the door.

With more bravo than I felt, I slid on my heels, double checked my complexion and then made my way downstairs. No one had to tell me my father and The Godless were in the study. Where else would they be?

I paused when I reached the wooden doors. Part of me wanted to run away screaming, but what would that get me? I would be caught and named a menace. Which wouldn’t benefit me at all.

I balled my fist up and knocked.

“Come in, Sophia.”

Take a deep breath, Soph, came my sister’s voice. Take a deep breath.

Slowly, I opened the door and stepped into the study.

I spotted Alessandro’s dark hair first, before he rose and turned around.

My breath got knocked out of me as it always did when I saw him.

Alessandro Rocchetti didn’t smile at me. Only looked to Papa.

Papa was quick to react. “Alessandro, my daughter,