When She Falls (The Fallen, #3)(14)

Something warm burst inside my chest. It’s nice of him to look out for me.

Vince leans back on his palms. “I told Vale to let it go. I’m not sure I got through to her. She’s all about love marriages now.”

“How do you feel about them?”

“I wouldn’t bank on one. Love fades. It’s too unpredictable. Papà fucked up with Vale’s ex-husband, but you can’t dismiss the entire system of arranged marriages based on one bad incident.”

“What about you? Have you started looking for a wife?”

He makes a dismissive wave. “There’s no rush.”

“I don’t know about that. Given the long list of requirements I assume you’re going to have, you might want to start early.”

“Smartass. My list isn’t that long. Just a few obvious things.”

“Like what?”

“Since she’d be around a lot, I’d want someone nice to look at,” he says. “Someone without baggage who wouldn’t try to turn me into their therapist.”

“Charming.”

“She’d have to put the relationship first. Complete loyalty. Complete trust. Without it, it wouldn’t work. I have enough people who want to stab me in the back. My wife can’t be one of them.”

It didn’t sound too unreasonable, actually. “So you’d be faithful to her?”

He gives me a blank look. “What?”

“You’d want her to be loyal to you and trust you. Would you be loyal to her? Would you sleep around the way Papà does?”

“Sleeping around has nothing to do with real loyalty. Of course my wife would know I’d have women on the side. She’d accept it and move on.”

I roll my eyes. “That's the kind of stuff that makes women want to stab their husbands.”

“Nothing a pair of diamond earrings and a trip to the Maldives can’t fix.” Vince tosses back the last of his whiskey and stands. “Dinner’s about to start.” He eyes my empty wine glass. “How many of those have you had?”

“Not enough.”

When I rise, the horizon before me wobbles. Okay, maybe I should have stopped one glass ago.

“C’mon.” Vince offers me his arm. “So you’re expecting Rafaele to be faithful?”

I frown. I haven’t thought about it. The idea is distasteful in principle, but the thought of my future husband with another woman…

I wait for some emotion to surface.

There’s nothing.

“I haven’t thought that far,” I say to Vince. “I just hope we’ll get along.”

“If you can get along with our parents for as long as you have, you can get along with anyone.”

I roll my eyes. That isn’t true. Prime example—Ras.

There is no situation, no possible scenario in which I’d get along with him.





CHAPTER 5





RAS


“How are we doing?” I ask the two guards stationed at the gate of Dem’s property. We’re about an hour from Mari’s wedding ceremony, and I’m doing one last round to make sure everyone’s keeping their eyes peeled.

We’re still being careful these days. Dem’s claim as our new leader has been accepted by anyone who’s worth a damn, but the only time a don has no enemies is when he’s dead. It’s my job to make sure nothing ruins these two weddings, and I’m taking that seriously. We expanded the perimeter a few days ago, added more cameras, and put more men on the security detail.

“All good,” the older guard says while he peels an apple with his pocketknife. “Enjoy the party, boss.”

“Send a message if anything comes up.” I pop my head into the security booth and do a quick scan of the cameras, just in case.

Mari deserves to enjoy this. The poor kid’s been through a lot recently.

As have the rest of us.

It took a lot to get to the top of the clan, but now that we’re here, the view’s damn nice, even if I’m still getting used to it.

Dem and I operated in exile on Ibiza for over a decade under the old don—that motherfucker Sal. If I’d gone to his funeral, I would have spit on his grave. He fucked with us for a long time, but he got what he deserved.

Now Dem is in his rightful place.

Dem and I go way, way back. When his and Mari’s parents died, they came to live with my family. He’s always been around, but we only became close friends a few years after we graduated high school.

If I had to describe my life to someone in one word, it would be “unexpected.” I was born into a high-ranking Casalesi family, my father an area capo who often had the don’s ear. Everyone told me I’d take my father’s position one day. Their expectations were like a living, breathing thing growing up, sucking all the air out of a room.

No wonder meeting that asshole Nunzio in high school did a number on me. Try believing you’re destined for leadership when every week you get your ass kicked by a kid who’s twice your size and has a vendetta.

My gaze drops to the scar on my arm. Even all these years later, there’s an annoying twinge in my chest at the memory of how I got it and who gave it to me.

I tug my shirtsleeve over it and start walking back to the house.