Page 7 of Marry Me Not
“I thought you’d be a better liar.”
My gaze snapped from the ring to his face. “And I thought you’d be a gentleman.” I couldn’t hide from the fact that even my modest hopes for this marriage were crumbling in real time.
The corner of his mouth lifted with dark amusement. “Then I guess we’re both headed for disappointment.”
My pulse stumbled as I watched him leave. What was I getting myself into? I’d assumed Cosimo would approach this the same way I was—as a duty, yes, but one we could survive with basic decency and mutual respect.
Instead, I was marrying a man who appeared to have little interest in either.
For the first time since I’d agreed to the match, I wondered how the hell I was supposed to make this work.
CHAPTER 3
COSIMO
My neck crackedas I rolled my head from side to side. The heat in the sauna was thick and engulfing, and I’d been in here long enough for a layer of sweat to coat my skin. With each inhale, the scent of eucalyptus and pine filled my lungs, and it was as familiar as the feel of a trigger beneath my finger.
This was my church. The one place where my mind usually shut the hell up.
Today, it refused.
When I was a kid, my father often took me hiking along a trail in the Palisades. I’d come home with my ankles red and burning from the nettles crowding the path. They looked harmless, but every leaf was covered in thousands of microscopic needles, ready to sting the moment you got too close.
That was Fabiana Messero.
A nettle.
My mother—the architect behind this entire arrangement—would never have paired me with someone she couldn’t use against me. To some people, marriage was sacred. To Vita Ferraro, it was an opportunity. A way to permanently place a woman she owned in my life.
Did Fabiana know what she was to my mother? Was she a willing accomplice, or just naive enough to be steered where Mother wanted? After that meeting in the gallery, I wasn’t quite sure.
But I’d find out soon enough.
The sauna door opened.
I scowled at Alessio and Romolo as they took their time walking in wearing only towels wrapped around their waists. “You’re letting out all the heat.”
“No wonder you never have any company if that’s how you greet people.” Rom deposited a bottle of whiskey and three stacked glasses on the bottom bench.
I wiped the sweat off my forehead. “I don’t remember inviting you two.”
“We’re your brothers. We don’t need an invitation,” Les said, shutting the door behind him. “But you know, you might want to invite the capos over one of these days.”
“What for? I see them enough.”
He settled on the bench below me. “Yeah, to bark out orders and remind everyone how busy you are. Did you have to chew out Spina like that today?”
I glared at the back of his head. “Is the family’s enforcer really telling me to go easy on a guy?”
Alessio shrugged. “He’s young. Hardworking. A little patience would go a long way.”
“If I’m patient with him, how’s he going to learn? My job isn’t to coddle. My job’s to get results.”
Rom took a seat beside Alessio. “I’m with Les. Just admit you were cranky because you were going to ambush your fiancée after the meeting. How did it go, by the way?”
“Fine.”
“Just fine?” Rom lined up the tumblers and poured.
