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Samuel’s tie is burning, the fire threatening to scorch his face. I snuff it out with a pillow, and Samuel stands, his head bowed. When I try to get off Corrado’s lap, his hands lock around my waist, and he bites my shoulder.
Ouch!
Samuel takes the hint and practically sprints out of there.
Corrado smiles at the tooth indents on my skin. “You’re coming home with me, and you’re staying there. I’ll send Hank to pack your stuff.”
“Um, no. I can’t.”
“You can. You are my wife, and my wife lives with me. People are wondering what’s going on and why you’re not wearing the ring. They’re yapping, creating hope for Isabella and problems in the ranks for me. This marriage is my solution. I need you with me all the way.”
I turn on his lap so we can have a conversation, but he transfers me onto the table. He spreads his legs so mine fit between them. Palms resting on his knees, he leans in. “I’m waiting for confirmation that you understand my plan and are on board with it.”
Oh boy, here we go.
Clearly, Corrado is used to being obeyed. While I understand his plan, I can’t agree with it because I have a life of my own. Not to mention my need for a relationship that evolves into marriage over time, you know, the way most relationships do. “That’s the thing, Corrado. When I agreed to pretend to be yours, you didn’t specify that you needed a wife.”
“Which part of pretend you’re mine is unclear?”
“There are many ways I could be yours.”
His eyebrows shot up. “Your weak arguments shock me. I expected better. Let’s see. You can’t be my relative, because you’re not. You’re either my wife or my whore. A whore deters no one from pursuing a relationship with me, but a wife does. So I chose a wife.”
“I could’ve been a date. Like this one. You could’ve introduced me by my name and let the others stew on that. Instead, you’re…forcing a fake marriage on me. On us. It doesn’t have to be this way.”
“It does because I don’t date.”
“A marriage is more important than dating.”
“Real marriage is, but this is a business proposition, one where I guarantee”—he places a hand over his heart as if his heart has anything to do with this—“you will enjoy and come away satisfied.”
“If not heartbroken like the girl who was here earlier.”
Corrado leans back. “That’s fair. I gave you a hard time with Tino, and you’re throwing Isabella in my face. Let this be the end of talking about other people and the start of a marriage arrangement between us.”
“I can’t move in with you, Corrado.”
“Why not?”
“Because I have responsibilities at home.”
He tilts his head. “Do you have a child?”
“Nothing like that, no. But my mother can’t take care of herself.”
“I can arrange care for a disabled parent.”
“She’s not disabled.”
“Then what’s the matter with her?”
I change the subject. “This won’t work. It’s nice while we’re together, but it won’t work. I come from nothing. You come from everything. Our worlds are so far apart that you can’t possibly understand mine and I sure as heck can’t fathom yours.”
“You’re wrong. Our worlds being so far apart is what makes us perfect for this arrangement. A girl from my world won’t do. Most of them are after my money or power or have some ulterior motive, something the patriarch of the family wants from me. You have no idea who I am or what I can do, which makes you perfect for me. Come on, Michela. I’ll spoil you.”
“I bet you would.”
He takes a strand of my hair and tugs. “Let me spoil you.”
