"Considering it's the reason we're together, I think it does."
"No, it doesn't. Why do you care about the reason we're together?" His voice turned cold, mocking. "You'll marry me either way. The dutiful daughter who does everything her daddy says. I could be gone for the next year until our wedding, and you'dstillgo through with it. Wouldn't you?"
An icy claw of shock snatched the breath from my lungs.
I didn't know how the conversation had escalated so quickly, but somehow, without trying, Dante had hit me right in the ugliest, most undesirable part of myself. The part I loathed but couldn't shake.
"Now I understand." I fought for calm, but a tremble of anger bled through. "An arranged marriage is theonlyway you could get someone to marry you. You are so…so…" I struggled to find the right word. "Horrible."
Not my best work, but it'd do.
Dark amusement slid through his eyes. "If I'm so horrible, then tell your family the wedding's off." He nodded at my phone. "Call them right now. We'll move you back into your apartment like this never happened."
It was equal parts challenge and seduction. He didn't think I would do it, but his voice was so rich and coaxing it almost compelled me to obey.
My fingers curled around my fork. The metal dug into my skin, cold and unforgiving.
I didn't touch my phone.
I wanted to even more than I wanted to toss my wine in Dante's smug face, but Icouldn't.
My father's anger. My mother's criticism. The failure if I didn't go through with the wedding…
I couldn't do it.
Dante's amusement disappeared into the tense atmosphere. Something sparked in his eyes. Disappointment? Disapproval? It was impossible to tell.
"Exactly," he said softly.
The finality of that word cut deeper than a freshly honed knife.
We finished dinner in silence, but my steak had lost its flavor.
I washed it down with more wine and let the warmth eat away at my shame.
CHAPTER8
Dante
Despite what Vivian thought, I'd scheduled my Europe trip before she moved in. A majority of Russo Group brands were headquartered on the continent, and I blocked off a month every year to hold in-person meetings with the heads of our European subsidiaries.
This year's timing just happened to be extremely convenient.
However, I made sure to keep tabs on Luca and Vivian while I was gone. I'd assigned Luca a sales role at one of our jewelry subsidiaries' retail stores. He was a people person, and putting him in a back office somewhere would only spell disaster for him and the store in question. According to the store manager, he had a rough start—my brother had never been punctual—but by the time I returned to New York, he seemed to have settled, albeit begrudgingly, into his new role.
Vivian, on the other hand, had taken to her new surroundings like a duck to water. Greta and Edward gushed about her in every report, and I came home to find a new painting in the gallery, towels monogrammed withD&Vin the bathrooms, and fucking flowers everywhere.
"Dante, relax your expression," Winona said. "Give me a smile…that's it! Perfect."
The camera shutter clicked in rapid succession.
Vivian and I had spent the morning taking engagement photos in Central Park. It was as excruciating as I'd imagined, filled with fake smiles and faker embraces as Winona guided us into poses designed to show off how in "love" we were.
"Vivian, put your arms around his neck and move closer."
I stiffened when Vivian obliged and took a tentative step toward me.
"Closer. I can practically drive a tractor between you right now," Winona joked.