Dark Throne: A Mafia Arranged Marriage Romance (Russo Royals) Page 7

  He’d rather go to his grave than give in to an opponent.

  He looks to Mr. Romano. “John, do you see any way to repair the damage between us?”

  Luca steps forward, speaking directly to Vincent. “I have a way.”

  Vincent gives him a nod, a signal of his respect. “I’m listening.”

  Luca won’t meet my gaze, speaking directly to Vincent. “A marriage will be arranged between our two families. Once our families are united, our men would never attack a family member. It’s against our code. It’s the only hope for peace.”

  Vincent’s brows narrow. “And whom do you propose marry?”

  Luca’s eyes cut to mine, holding them as he speaks. “I will take Esme for my wife.”

  The silence that fills the room is deafening. The sound of my blood whooshing past my ears is deafening. I feel my heart, beating in my head.

  Did he just say…. wife?

  Vincent flies out of his chair, crossing the room, slamming his hands on the desk. “If you think for a second that my eighteen-year-old daughter is going to be your wife—”

  Luca holds out his hand, cutting off Vincent’s words. “Hear me out if you care for your daughter.”

  No one interrupts Vincent. Ever.

  I half expect him to lunge across the desk at Luca. He doesn’t. Instead, he waits. Listening. He gives a growl. “Go on.”

  “She needs the Romano name. Otherwise, she may never be safe.” Luca’s voice holds steady, eyes now locked with Vincent’s. “She’ll never be able to leave the walls of your castle. Even if we command our men not to lay a finger on her, it’s still possible that one will go rogue, seeking retribution for the family.”

  John gives a nod of agreement. “Without the protection of our name, she will have to leave this place. She won’t be able to come back to the village.”

  I can’t leave here.

  This is the only place I’ve ever known. I love this village. Everyone I love is here.

  But they’re right.

  Their words sink into me, making me grow cold. I wrap my arms around myself. I’m never going to be safe.

  I sense Luca’s gaze on my face and I raise my eyes to meet his. His tone is soft, practical. “She needs to carry the last name Romano. It would protect her. I would protect her.”

  John twists a pen between his fingers. “I see no other way. As a member of our family, her safety would be guaranteed under our code. No one in this family, or working for our family would break that code.”

  Vincent’s furious. “This is ludicrous. To even suggest that I promise you her hand…”

  His words trail off as he realizes where we really are in this. How deep we are.

  This falls to me.

  This whole sordid deal falls to me.

  I can choose to take responsibility for my actions. To agree to an arranged marriage. I can create peace between our families.

  As much fear as Luca raises in me, as harsh as his treatment is, his words often cruel, I find that I do…trust him.

  Even if I hate him half the damn time.

  Luca’s eyes lock on mine as I rise from my seat.

  “I’ll do it.”

  6

  Luca

  She’s…agreed?

  When I begged her to trust me, I had little hope she’d comply, considering how few times she’s listened to me up till now. A small sense of relief blooms in my chest, but I remind myself to temper my expectations.

  This is, after all, Esme.

  With her next breath, my hesitations are confirmed.

  She squares her little shoulders, narrowing her gaze at me. “I agree, under one condition.”

  She has a condition. Of course she does.

  I’m trying to keep her safe, and she’ll inevitably find a way to get in my way.

  She stares at me, her brown eyes shooting daggers as she waits for me to ask what it is.

  I give a sigh, running my hand through my hair to occupy it so I don’t cross the room and spank her with it. “This isn’t a negotiation. This is an attempt to keep you safe. Having said that—what is your condition, Esme?”

  “We live in my castle.” She gives a decided nod of her head, as if she’s the one making all the decisions here.

  I feel my right brow shoot up. “You mean, your father’s castle?”

  “Yes…the Russo castle. It’s only fair if I’m marrying you to unite the families, you move to the Russo castle with me.” Her hands go to her hips and she narrows her own gaze.

  Infuriating.

  Anger fills me, burning in my chest. I lock my jaw, clenching my teeth in an attempt to hold my tongue until I’ve tempered it. “A man does not move to his wife’s castle. A wife moves to her husband’s home.”

  “It’s not like we’re living in the century this village was established. I know we’re country and backwoods around here but still. It’s modern times. What’s wrong with you moving to my—our place?”

  Is she being serious? I wrap my fingers around the wood at the top of my father’s chair. “Everything, Esme. Everything is wrong with it.”

  She looks to Vincent. “Don’t you think that’s fair? Doesn’t it sound like a reasonable request?”

  His anger has cooled. He sees the sense in my proposition. But he shakes his head. “A man doesn’t leave his home, sweetheart.”

  Throwing her hands up in exasperation, she gives a groan. “I forgot who I was dealing with. Men from the dark ages. Doesn’t it at least make sense in uniting the families to have a Romano at our place, for…for…for—insurance!”

  “Insurance?” My father’s brow knits together, a sign he’s unhappy. “You mean, a hostage?”

  Her face flushes. “No, I didn’t mean a hostage.” She huffs, crossing her arms over her chest, frustrated.

  My father speaks. “When you say insurance, you mean a hostage. My son is making a sacrifice in an attempt to ensure your safety.”

  Vincent shoots back. “Marrying my daughter is a privilege, not a sacrifice.”

  My father’s shoulders tense. He’s a patient man, but he’s hit his limit. He slams his fist on the desktop. “And marrying a Romano is an honor. Our blood has run through the veins of this village for centuries. We were here long before the Russos arrived. This town was built with our blood and sweat.”

  Vincent’s tone is ice cold. “It doesn’t matter who came first. Only who holds the most power.”

  My father’s face turns red. He’s long held animosity over Vincent and the way he’s grown his kingdom in such a short amount of time. “Who’s earned the most power over time? Or who’s taken the most power?”

  Vincent’s shoulders stiffen.

  This conversation will lead directly to death.

  I need to resolve this.

  Now.

  My father goes to continue, but I end their back and forth, putting my hand on my father’s shoulder. “I will not be taken hostage. I will not move into the Russo castle.”

  I lift my gaze to Esme. “You will marry me, you will take my last name, you will be a Romano and you will move here, to my family’s home. Where you belong. My word is final.”

  I watch her face change as she absorbs my commandment. Her anger disappears, understanding softening her features. She knows I’m right. She’s sees the tension between our fathers. She can sense the danger behind their words.

  I need her answer.

  “Esme. Do you accept?”

  My tone is harsh and tears spring in her eyes.

  Hell, I didn’t mean to make her cry.

  With Esme, there will be a few tears, many tears even, over leaving her beloved castle. I should try to be…caring.

  “You’re only a ten minute walk away. You can visit your family anytime.” Too soft. My tone goes gruff. “With my permission, of course.”

  She sniffs, a little of her fight coming back. “Surrounded by the Romano guard?”

  She’s infuriating.

  My palm twitches and I slap
it against my thigh. “Yes. Of course you’ll be guarded. You won’t step foot outside these walls without my protection.” My answer booms out, echoing through the room, making her shrink back.

  What was she expecting?

  That I let her prance around town? Alone? Unattended?

  But she looks up at me with those big brown eyes. They shine with tears that threaten to fall.

  She’s so beautiful, so unsure of herself.

  It softens me.

  I clear my throat in an attempt to moderate my tone. “Or I can escort you if you’d like. But either way, we need your answer.”

  She gives only one word. “Yes.”

  Vincent is quiet with resolve.

  My father releases a shaky breath. “When will we do this?”

  I answer. “As soon as possible.” Every hour she’s not my wife brings her closer to danger.

  Vincent looks to Esme. “Uniting the families is the right thing to do. To ensure the peace. To keep everyone safe.” Pain echoes in his words.

  He’s losing his daughter.

  He can no longer keep her safe.

  Only I can.

  I move across the room, offering him my hand. “She’ll want for nothing.”

  He accepts my hand, shaking it. “It wasn’t that long ago I was saying those words to Felicity’s father. I kept my word, and I expect you to do the same.”

  There’s a warning in his words.

  One there’s no need for.

  I would lay down my life for Esme. I will protect her, and I will teach her to keep herself safe. Even if it takes strict discipline. “Your expectations will be more than met.”

  I hear her mumbling behind me. “Stop talking about me as if I’m some kind of business deal.”

  Leaving Vincent, I go to Esme. I want to take her in my arms, but her body is rigid, her arms still folded over her chest. The tears are gone from her eyes. There is only one emotion in her gaze.

  Hatred.

  Hate me all you want, Princess. I’ll save your ass just the same.

  I lean down, brushing a kiss over her lips.

  She pulls away.

  I turn to my father. “Make the arrangements. We’ll be married at noon.”

  To Vincent, I say, “Take her back to the castle. Let her get some sleep while you have your staff pack her things. I’ll send a guard of my men to escort you, to offer additional protection.”

  And to ensure Esme doesn’t try anything foolish.

  The idea of her being out of my sight for only a few hours tears at me, but her shoulders sag. She needs rest and there’s no way she’ll sleep here. I trust my men and Vincent’s to keep her safe for a few hours.

  After that, she’ll be my responsibility.

  Vincent wraps his arm around Esme’s shoulders. “Come. I’ll take you home—I’ll take you back to the castle and you can rest for a few hours. I’ll have Sophia and the others prepare everything for you.” He guides her to the door.

  Over her shoulder, she gives me a look of childish disdain. I could almost picture her sticking her tongue at me, if the situation wasn’t so dire.

  No matter.

  Soon, she’ll be my wife.

  And I’ll spank any sassiness out of her.

  I arrange a group of my most trusted men, sending them to the Castle with Russo, Esme, and his men he came with.

  It’s late. The sun will soon rise.

  I leave the arrangements in my father’s capable hands. I check on my brothers. Asleep, unable to cause any trouble. They look so much younger like this, their faces pale in the moonlight, their breaths coming heavy and even.

  I check on Nonna. She’s sleeping soundly, curled up in her bed.

  I would never agree to leave here and move to the Russo’s castle as a matter of principle. A man just doesn’t up and move to his wife’s father’s home. But there’s another reason I won’t leave these walls.

  I want to be here, to watch over my younger brothers.

  To live with Nonna, to care for her. Since my grandfather died, she’s just not been herself. She eats little and the malnutrition is leading to dementia.

  We don’t know how much time she has left.

  Can you die of a broken heart?

  I fear she might.

  My father seems half-dead himself since my mother died.

  Hell, those days I’d watch Esme flirt with other boys in the schoolyard, I only felt half alive myself.

  I think of something happening to Esme and my blood runs cold, my gut tying in knots.

  I’m almost sure one could die of a broken heart.

  I push the thought away, focusing on the task at hand.

  Making no sound, I pull Nonna’s door closed.

  I should rest, or at least try to.

  Because when the sun rises, I’ve got to take on the greatest responsibility of my life.

  Esme.

  Esme

  I feel as if I’m walking through a dream.

  My mind is dense fog, my feet moving without a command from me.

  My family have left me alone. They think I’m asleep.

  I’m not.

  I could never sleep right now.

  Just hours ago, I celebrated my 18th birthday.

  And in a few hours more, I’ll be married.

  Mrs. Luca Romano.

  How could I have done this to myself?

  How could I be so stupid?

  I’m faced with leaving the only life I’ve ever known, coming full circle from being abandoned as a mystery baby on the doorstep of a castle, to going off into the unknown, never to be seen again.

  A stranger amongst strangers.

  Having been abandoned as a child, that is my greatest fear. To be somewhere no one knows me. To find myself in a place where no one cares for me.

  Somewhere I know no one.

  I will never leave my village or my people.

  Leaving would be like death to me.

  I might even prefer death over leaving this place.

  And so, when the sun rises, kissing the horizon with its pinks and oranges, I will take his hand.

  I will say, ‘I do.’

  And I will become his wife.

  Forever, and for always.

  Mrs. Luca Romano.

  I’m marrying my childhood tormentor.

  There are certainties, things guaranteed to me, that make my sordid fate easier to accept.

  Luca is a Romano.

  The Romano family follows a code.

  The code says that they cannot hurt anyone who bears their surname.

  Upon marriage, I will wear their name like a shield.

  Other things I know of Luca that put my mind at ease? He protects his family at all costs. And as his wife, I will be his family.

  I know he is a loyal man. He puts his family above all else and I can only guess that as his wife, I will mean more to him than all others. He will put my safety above all others.

  And, should we ever have children…he would protect them just as fiercely.

  I would like them to have his blue eyes. They’re so beautiful, capturing my attention whenever he so much as looks my way.

  Esme, what are you thinking?

  This is the very same boy who slipped toads in your hand. Who tugged at your braids mercilessly, calling you that wretched name, Goldie. The very man who seems to feed on your humiliation.

  Just today, he made you wear your shame like a crown upon your head.

  He will wed you, bed you, then sit you on his dark throne, the queen of his world.

  At the mercy of his hand.

  His will be done.

  You will be his queen, yes.

  But he will make you pay for that privilege with his commanding ways and punishing hands.

  And he will be your king.

  Reigning over you.

  Bitter tears burn at the backs of my eyes.

  I stroke my hand down the stone wall of the castle as I make my noiseless way over the deep red rugs.
This castle has given me life.

  Love.

  Family.

  And this family has given me everything I hold dear in my heart.

  If this marriage will bring peace, if this marriage will serve this family that took me in when I was an abandoned baby in a basket, then I can do this one thing for this family.

  Tomorrow, I can breathe two simple words.

  Tomorrow, I will say I do.

  7

  Esme

  I’m lying in bed, dressed in my white satin nightgown. Fitting, I figure, for a bride the night before her wedding. I’m unable to sleep.

  I hear what sounds like a pebble hit my window.

  What is that?

  I run to the window, throw the panes open, and gaze below. The cool night air rustles my hair as it hangs round my shoulders.

  What is he doing here?

  There, under the silver light of the moon, Luca stands in the gravel. That proud, assured look resting on his handsome face. His hands on his hips, in a stance of cool confidence. He looks up at me, those blue eyes piercing my soul.

  God, how I wish he didn’t affect me like this. Just looking at him makes a restless energy zing through my body, a want, a craving, rise in my core.

  Denying my body’s reaction to his presence, I give a sneer. “What in the world are you doing here?”

  With one hand, he grips the drainpipe that runs down the wall, and calls up to me, a half-smile rising on his full lips. “She speaks. Oh, speak again, bright angel. You are as glorious as an angel tonight. You shine above me, like a winged messenger from heaven who makes mortal men fall on their backs to look up at the sky, watching the angel walking on the clouds and sailing on the air.”

  Romeo and Juliet.

  He’s quoting the modern version. I know an older version by heart, having played Juliet last year in the town play.

  I lean out the window, hissing between my teeth. “I’ll be under your thumb soon enough, can’t you give me these last hours of freedom, Luca?”

  He murmurs to himself as his head turns from the wall to the drainpipe to his right. “I don’t know how to tell you who I am by telling you a name. I hate my name, dear saint, because my name is your enemy. If I had it written down, I would tear up the paper.”