Page 8 of Legacy of Deception

He wasn’t much for divulging information, tending to keep his cards close to his vest.

His loyalty was a sharp knife that often turned on him, cutting the deepest and drawing the most blood. Clearly spilled at the hands of his family, or rather, Santo.

“What?” I finally answered the only way I knew how.

Glancing down, he devoted his attention to the most irrelevant things, studying his hands clasped on his raised knee. “I didn’t stutter.” He didn’t flinch, his piercing negativity nearly stabbing me at such a fast rate I thought I’d stumble back with unpreparedness.

Clacking my tongue on the roof of my mouth, I widened my eyes. “No, but you did make an ass out of yourself,” I said, darting my pointer finger his way and holding it there as I waited for him to redeem himself.

He exhaled. “I said the truth. You just don’t want to hear it.”

“My voice doesn’t matter to you?” I ran a hand over my lips before letting it fall to my side, slapping the side of my leg in the process. “Is that what you’re saying?”

“I didn’t say that.” He shook his head. “It doesn’t matter to your father.” Getting up, he angrily pointed at the door. “Just as my breath is wasted on mine.”

Silence consumed us, and I didn’t do anything more than watch his chest cave in and puff back out as his nostrils flared.

“I just—” In what I perceived as an attempt to try to let go of some of his frustration, he brushed a hand through his hair quickly.

I pursed my lips and nodded, my eyes narrowed. “Articulate,” I echoed his sentiment from before, which earned me a deep chuckle. “Do you always turn to optimism like this?” The amusement in my voice couldn’t be masked.

Our eyes connected, and my pulse spiked for the briefest of moments, because in those moments, he wasn’t Marco, the man I didn’t want to marry. He was Marco, an acquaintance.

Choosing to get back on track, he sidestepped my question and led with saying, “The engagement won’t last forever, but it will be drawn out for the planning process and to make sure it doesn’t appear like a shotgun wedding.”

Yes, well, my father certainly wouldn’t have wanted that. In his warped mind, it sat right above being in debt on the scale of things that would tarnish whatever shiny reputation he did have. “You seem to have been briefed better than I was.”

“Not necessarily. I just know the way my father thinks.” He leaned back against his desk, using it in every way except the one it was designed for. Apparently, it was pointless for him to have a chair.

“Scary.” I frowned, also referring to how he regained composure, the shrewd look on his face making a reappearance. “Well, in that case, engagement announcements will be top priority.”

“Soon, yes, but they’ll have to make sure people in their inner circle have us on their radar first,” he said lazily and shrugged. “You know, that we were dating, that popping the question was the natural next step. There’s a way to do things, and no one will believe it unless the very meticulously designed path is followed.”

My body tingled with the awareness that I was the living, breathing contract between our two fathers. “Is this how romantic it was for Vito and Lisa Marie?” If so, I understood why the rest of his brothers weren’t married.

“It would appear we’re the only lucky ones, bella.” To have agreed to the terms of an unfair life sentence? Luck was one way to look at it. Misfortune and a slew of mighty bad decisions was another. “You want my advice?”

With his outlook on things, no, I did not. In fact, I would have liked to steer clear of it at all times. “Something tells me I’m going to get it regardless.”

“Play along.”

He made it sound so easy. “What do you think I’m doing?” I flipped my hair.

“You mean to tell me you haven’t tried to fight this? Why do I find that hard to believe?” His carved muscles lured me in as his arm flexed to cross over the other.

He wasn’t wrong, but I wasn’t about to give him the satisfaction of knowing that. “You don’t know me as well as you think you do.” There was truth in that statement.

“Good thing this wedding is nothing more than a sham, so I don’t have to.” He grinned, a seductive aura surrounding him, one that was mixed with a ruthlessness I had a feeling I didn’t want to get in the way of if I was so unfortunate as to witness it firsthand one day.

“Darn. There goes the binder full of facts about myself I was going to put together for you,” I replied, lifting one of my feet up before putting it back down, the sound of my heel hitting the wood penetrating the air.

He remained calm as I seriously debated walking out and bringing this meeting to an abrupt end. “I know enough.”

I snorted. “Why are you going along with this?” There was no judgment to be had on my part. I was in no position for such a thing. Sadly, we were in the same boat, rowing down the same river, hoping somehow we’d end up off course before we both wound up at the dreaded destination. “There can’t possibly be something you want that you can’t just ask for and get, so it doesn’t make much sense to me.”

He stiffened. “Fortunately, it doesn’t have to.” His hand went to his watch as he adjusted the clasp.

“And, to think, I thought I’d be filled with dread if my future husband was Massimo. Now I’m beginning to think I should’ve hoped I would’ve been matched with Carmine.”