He Claimed My Sister So I Married A Mafia Don Chapter 02
She Belongs Here
Dante comes home just before midnight.
Bianca walks in behind him.
The guard at the front door greets her by name.
She doesn’t need to be announced. Dante gave that instruction himself, months ago, after she complained about having to wait outside.
“Still awake?” she asks me.
I’m sitting in the kitchen.
Dante loosens his tie.
“We should talk.”
Bianca takes a glass from the cupboard, fills it, and drinks. Then she hands it to him.
He finishes the water.
“Oh.” She looks at me. “Sorry. That was mine.”
Neither of them moves to get another glass.
I think of her feet in his lap while I answer work emails.
The coffee she orders too sweet because he’ll finish it.
The room upstairs that was supposed to be my office.
“I want her access revoked,” I say.
Dante sets down the glass.
“What?”
“I want her key back. And I want the guards to stop letting her in without asking me.”
Bianca looks between us.
“I didn’t realize I needed permission to visit my sister.”
“You have your own apartment.”
“And a room here,” Dante says.
“You gave her my office.”
“You weren’t using it.”
“The desk hadn’t arrived.”
He looks toward the hall, where a member of staff is collecting his coat.
“Could we do this somewhere else?”
“You called her your fiancée in front of everyone. You can answer me here.”
Bianca touches my arm.
“Please don’t fight because of me.”
Her nails press into my skin.
I pull away.
She steps backward into Dante, who catches her by the shoulders.
“Enough, Adriana.”
I hold up my wrist.
He doesn’t look.
“She belongs here,” he says.
The woman holding his coat lowers her eyes.
For a moment, nobody speaks.
Then I nod.
“All right.”
His shoulders relax.
“You don’t have to make everything a test.”
I get up.
“Where are you going?”
“To pack.”
He follows me upstairs.
Bianca stays in the kitchen.
Our bedroom curtains are dark blue. She chose them.
She chose the wallpaper downstairs, too. When I objected, Dante told me she needed something to keep her occupied.
When I wanted to replace the light above the stairs, they both explained why I was wrong about it.
I pull my suitcase from the closet.
Dante closes the door.
“You’ve made your point.”
“I’m leaving.”
“For how long?”
I put the suitcase on the bed.
He catches my wrist.
I look down at his hand.
After a moment, he lets go.
“You know I’m not marrying Bianca.”
“Then you should stop telling people you are.”
“I was trying to keep the peace.”
“With whom?”
He rubs the back of his neck.
“I’ll have the photograph taken down.”
“And the comment you liked?”
“That, too.”
“And the next time she cries?”
He says nothing.
I start with the clothes I’ll need for work.
He watches me fold a blouse.
“Your father won’t let you wreck the agreement.”
“Our families can do business without me marrying you.”
“That isn’t how this was arranged.”
“Then arrange it again.”
His expression changes.
“You think you can walk out and make everyone accommodate you?”
“I think I can decide who I marry.”
He looks at the suitcase.
“Fine. Go to your parents. Let them explain what you’re doing.”
“I’m not going there.”
“Then where?”
I keep packing.
The door slams behind him.
At seven the next morning, I send an email to Dante, both sets of parents, and the planner.
I am ending my engagement to Dante De Luca. I will not attend the celebration. Please remove my name and photograph from all materials and confirm that this has been done.
Then I call the manager of the hotel project I’m overseeing.
“I’ll be working remotely this morning.”
“Everything all right?”
“I’ll be in after lunch.”
My phone lights up as I zip the suitcase.
Matteo Rinaldi.
Don of the Rinaldi crime family.
We’ve known each other for years. His family owns two of the hotels my team manages.
Once, before Dante, he asked me to dinner.
I said no.
He never made me uncomfortable about it afterward.
His message is short.
I saw the photograph. Do you need anything?
I sit on the edge of the bed.
For once, I don’t write that I’m fine.
A ride out of here.