Page 86 of Marry Me Not
This dress had been one of the auction items. That’s what she was saying, right? And Cosimo paid a million for it?
A milliondollars!
Impossible. Sure, he could afford it, but this was the man who hadn’t even argued with me when I’d called him Scrooge. He didn’t spend money on art, and he didn’t spend money on vanity projects.
And yet he’d spent an outrageous amount on this dress because of…me.
Inside me, a hurricane was brewing. A calamity.
“Will you excuse me?” I asked, forcing the words past my dry mouth.
“Of course.” The woman gave me a knowing smile. “You got lucky with that one.”
I didn’t feel very lucky.
Maybe I really was cursed.
CHAPTER 29
COSIMO
“It’spossible she’ll show up, but it’s getting late. Most of the other guests have already checked in,” Rosa said on the other end of the line.
The plan Rosa and I had come up with had sounded good in theory, but it seemed more and more like Rena Santoro was going to be a no-show, and I was starting to realize the plan had only felt solid because I was desperate.
Desperation looked ugly on a don.
I stood near the vase Rena had donated, increasingly certain tonight was going to end up being a very expensive waste of time.
“Text me if anything changes,” I said, gripping my phone tighter.
“I’m sorry, Cosimo.”
Frustration pulsed at my temples as I slid the phone back into my jacket and tried to pretend that everything was fine. I was good at that. A large part of my job as underboss was just that—convincing the men who worked for me that everything was fine. That they’d get made, paid, and taken care of, no matter who it was that wanted to kill us at any given point.
And yet something foreign and uneasy rattled through my lungs as I tried to take a deep breath. The swearing-in ceremony was less than a month away. Vita was making inroads with the capos, slowly swaying their allegiances to her, and all I had was a collection of dead ends and a strategic marriage that was becoming a distraction.
Becoming?
Who was I kidding. Fabiana had been a goddamn distraction since I met her. As much as I would’ve liked to blame her for it, there was no one to blame but me.
I knew it was dangerous to bring Fabiana into my life. I knew it, and yet I thought I could handle it.
I wasn’t so sure anymore.
Less than two weeks into our marriage, and I’d already told her a secret no one was supposed to know, given her permission to fucking redecorate my house, and made what had to be the dumbest financial decision in my entire life on her behalf.
And worst of all? I didn’t regret any of it. Not even the dress.
Seeing her in it was worth every penny.
In short, this marriage was exactly what I’d feared. She was messing with my goddamn head. And my resolve to resist her was slipping with each passing day.
I glared at the vase in the glass case in front of me as if it were to blame for all my problems. It was bulbous and slightlymisshapen and had abstract decorations painted on the side. It didn’t seem to be a popular lot here tonight. People passed by me, their faces flashing as they glanced around, but few stopped to look at the vase in detail.
What was so special about it? Why did Rena Santoro buy it in the first place?
I had no answers. And if Rena didn’t show up, I’d be back to square one.
