Chapter 5 - Breakfast With the Enemy|
At exactly nine the next morning, I walked into the Romano family dining room wearing a borrowed cream-colored dress and the expression of a woman attending her own execution.
Massimo walked beside me.
His hand rested lightly against the small of my back.
I had agreed to the gesture after an extremely uncomfortable conversation about appearing convincing.
I had not agreed to the way my heart reacted every time he touched me.
The dining room was enormous.
Sunlight poured through tall windows overlooking Lake Michigan.
A chandelier glittered above a table long enough to seat twenty people.
At its head sat Rosa Romano.
She wore a lavender silk blouse, three strands of pearls, and the delighted smile of someone watching her favorite television drama unfold.
"There she is!"
I stopped.
"Good morning, Mrs. Romano."
"Call me Nonna."
"That seems a little—"
"Nonna," she repeated firmly.
Massimo pulled out my chair.
His grandmother watched with unmistakable satisfaction.
"Well, well."
I sat down.
"Please don't."
"Don't what, sweetheart?"
"Whatever you're thinking."
Rosa laughed.
Across the table sat Massimo's mother, Isabella, looking as though she'd swallowed a lemon.
Beside her was a stern gentleman introduced as Uncle Lorenzo.
Vittorio was conspicuously absent.
Then the dining-room doors opened.
A stunning brunette entered wearing a white designer suit and diamond earrings.
She looked at Massimo first.
Then at me.
Then at his hand resting on the back of my chair.
Her smile sharpened.
"Well, this is interesting."
Massimo stood.
"Adriana."
So this was Adriana Vitali.
The woman he'd supposedly been expected to marry.
She looked like she belonged on the cover of a luxury magazine.
I looked like a florist who hadn't slept.
Adriana approached the table.
"I hear congratulations are in order."
Her voice was sweet enough to rot teeth.
Massimo didn't flinch.
"Sophie and I are engaged."
Isabella dropped her fork.
Rosa clapped.
Lorenzo coughed into his napkin.
And Adriana went perfectly still.
"Engaged?"
"Yes."
"Since when?"
Massimo glanced at me.
I knew that look.
He wanted me to improvise.
Wonderful.
"Recently," I said.
Adriana raised an eyebrow.
"How romantic."
"Very," I replied.
"Where did he propose?"
I opened my mouth.
Nothing came out.
Massimo answered smoothly.
"At her flower shop."
Adriana looked delighted.
"How charming."
Then she turned back to me.
"Tell us everything."
I wanted the floor to swallow me.
Instead, I remembered my father's advice.
When you're surrounded by people who think you're weak, never give them the satisfaction of seeing you panic.
"It wasn't elaborate," I said.
Massimo glanced at me.
"It was actually rather unexpected."
Rosa leaned forward.
"Go on."
"He came into my shop late one evening."
I looked directly at Massimo.
"He was arrogant, demanding, and convinced he could solve every problem by throwing money at it."
Rosa burst out laughing.
"That sounds exactly like him."
Massimo narrowed his eyes.
I continued.
"He asked me a question I wasn't prepared to answer."
"What question?" Isabella demanded.
I smiled.
"Whether I was brave enough to take a chance on something completely unreasonable."
For a moment, Massimo forgot to look annoyed.
His expression softened.
"And what did you say?" Rosa asked.
I looked at him.
"I said yes."
The room went quiet.
Then Rosa reached for a tissue.
"Oh, that's beautiful."
I felt guilty.
Horribly guilty.
Because none of it was real.
At least, that was what I kept telling myself.
Breakfast continued with painfully polite conversation.
Adriana asked about my education.
My parents.
My business.
And whether I understood the responsibilities of marrying into a family like the Romanos.
I answered every question.
Then she smiled.
"Of course, you'll probably close your little flower shop."
I set down my coffee cup.
"Why would I?"
"Massimo's wife won't need to work."
"That's fortunate."
She blinked.
"Excuse me?"
"Because I don't work because I need permission to exist."
Rosa made a delighted choking sound.
I continued.
"My father built that business with his hands."
"And I intend to keep building it with mine."
Adriana's smile disappeared.
Massimo looked down at his plate.
But I saw him smiling.
Then Isabella spoke.
"Marriage into this family requires sacrifice."
I met her gaze.
"Every marriage does."
"Some sacrifices are greater than others."
"Then perhaps the people demanding them should make a few themselves."
Silence.
Absolute silence.
Rosa slapped the table.
"I adore her!"
I almost laughed.
Then the dining-room doors opened again.
Vittorio entered with two men in dark suits.
His face bore a fresh bruise near his jaw.
Massimo stood immediately.
"You're not welcome here."
Vittorio ignored him.
Instead, he placed a newspaper on the table.
The front page showed a photograph of Massimo and me outside Miller Blooms.
The headline read:
CHICAGO CRIME HEIR'S SECRET FIANCÉE REVEALED.
My stomach dropped.
Vittorio smiled coldly.
"Congratulations, nephew."
Then he looked at me.
"Your little arrangement is already making headlines."
He placed another photograph beside the newspaper.
This one showed my father standing beside a younger Vittorio Romano.
I stopped breathing.
Because I had never seen that photograph before.
And beneath it was a date from eighteen years ago.
May you like
Vittorio leaned toward me.
"Perhaps it's time someone told you what your father really did for this family."
