Josef is waiting down in the lobby. “I’ve done what I can to ensure you and your wife’s safety,” he says, his forehead creased. “I’ve doubled the normal security detail on your suite, and there’s more discreetly placed around the hotel and its grounds.”
Your wife. Hearing Gia referred to in that way startles me. It hasn’t entirely sunk in yet—what I’ve done. What this will mean for us both.
“I’m adding security at both her family mansion and yours, as well, Don Morelli,” Josef continues. “The pakhan could choose to retaliate in a number of ways—we should make sure that we’re prepared for any potential outcome. And depending on which home you plan to take her to, after tonight?—”
“Mine.” It comes out a little more sharply than I intended. “She is my wife, after all, as you said. She’ll come back to my home, with me.”
Josef nods. “Of course. I’ll make sure the bulk of the security is stationed there, then, and that they’re all aware of the situation. If the Bratva attacks, we’re not to hold back, are we?”
I shake my head, feeling the weight of it as I do. The peace with the Bratva was carefully crafted; for all that I don’t agree with the means, and I’ve just shattered it with one decision. “No. There’s no quarter, if they attack. I won’t risk anyone harming Gia.”
“Understood.” Josef looks at me somberly. “There will be bloodshed, Don Morelli. A lot of it, I think.”
“I know.” I rub a hand over my mouth, and for a moment, I wonder if I’ve made the wrong choice. But I reject the thought as soon as it forms. I would never have done it if I hadn’t felt sure that the Bratva posed a threat to Gia. That she wouldn’t have been safe with them.
That they might have enjoyed taking out decades of resentment and strife between our families on her, and it would have been too late to save her, by the time she realized her mistake.
“The focus is on protecting her, at all costs,” I tell Josef firmly. “She should never have been promised to them in the first place. I’ve done what I can to right that mistake, and we’ll deal with the consequences from here.”
He nods, but I can’t help but wonder what he’s truly thinking. I’ve put a great many people in danger, to protect one person. It’s not that I think their lives are worth less than hers—but I can see why he might think that. Why Josef might look at my choice and think, to himself, whether or not it was worth what will come.
I have to believe that this was the right thing to do. That the peace wouldn’t have lasted, once Pyotr grew tired of his new toy.
That one way or another, lives would have been lost, and Gia would have paid an unnecessary price.
“I’ll report back to you as soon as all of the men are in place,” Josef says, and if he disagrees with what I’ve done, there’s no trace of it in his voice. “You’re going to take her back to your home tomorrow?”
I nod. “Mid-morning, probably.”
“Everything will be ready for you, then. I’ll notify the staff, as well.”
“Thank you.” I pause, wondering if I should say something else to him, some reassurance. But I’m not sure what, exactly, I could say that would make the situation better.
If anything, saying more might only make it worse.
As I head back to the hotel—and Gia—my thoughts are a tangle of conflicting desires.
I know I need to consummate the marriage. The validity of the union—and thus her safety—depends on it. Beyond that, I’ll need an heir eventually. Enzo’s death came with a mountain of duties, and a transfer of power that needed to be carefully handled, lest someone see the chance to slip in and take the title from me—and with it, everything Enzo had built. I hadn’t had a chance, before today, to consider what else I might need to do in order to secure that future—if I would marry and produce heirs, or if I would pass the title on to someone else. I hadn’t had time to consider it. And in the past?—
I can recall thinking, at times, that I would like to marry. The idea of a wife, a more domestic home, children—all of it held a growing appeal for me as I got older. But my life, and my devotion to Enzo and his legacy, left no room for a family of my own.
As the don, I had the opportunity to have that at last. And in time, I would have begun to consider it. But now, all those considerations have come to a head.
I have a wife, now. And if I want to truly continue her father’s legacy and mine, I will need to have a child with her. It’s as much my duty as it is hers—and if there’s one thing I’ve always been devoted to above all else, it’s the concept of doing my duty.
Of ensuring that those who depend on me are not let down.
But what it takes in order to do those things?—
I feel my jaw tighten as I see the hotel come into view, the minutes ticking down until I see Gia again. I shouldn’t want her. I shouldn’t think of her with so much as a flicker of desire. I’ve watched her grow up, seen her turn into a beautiful young woman without even the beginning of an indecent thought in my head. I’ve been her godfather, her father’s best friend, her guardian.
And now I’m meant to be a husband to her—and all that entails.
If there’s one downside to being a man, I think grimly as the car pulls up in front of the hotel and I step out, it’s that I will need to feel desire, in order to make this night work. I will have to want her, in order to consummate the marriage. And I’m not sure if I can allow myself to feel what I need to, in order to go through with it.
Gia isn’t in the bedroom when I walk in. Her dress and lingerie are in a pile on the floor, her room service tray abandoned on the cart. I’m pleased to see that she’s eaten, at least, but I feel a flash of anxiety at not seeing her there in the room. And then I see the light under the bathroom door, a bit of steam feathering out, and I relax.
She’ll come out eventually, and I’m in no hurry to face her. I pour myself a glass of cognac and call for someone to come and take the tray away, studiously ignoring the pile of silk and lace next to the bed. It’s a reminder of just how beautiful she looked today, of what she was wearing beneath the gown, of how much less she’s wearing right now.