By the time Ana arrived at the meeting, she felt much more like herself. Calm and cool.
The wedding ceremonies were done. The wedding night–or afternoon–was done. Two of the biggest events she had lost sleep over for months were now behind her. She could resume normal life now, or whatever the new normal was with a Don for a husband.
Her long, silky brown hair was tied into a tidy chignon low on her neck. She wore another of her dresses, a simple blue shift dress. Putting on her fake, social smile, she entered the hotel conference room. And came to a halt as a dozen men rose to their feet upon her arrival.
Ana’s fingers fluttered to her throat, and she nodded graciously at them.
Where was Gio? She glanced around. He had left almost an hour before her. She had been banking on him being here to lead the meeting, so she could remain quiet in his shadows, away from scrutiny. Alone, she felt like a rabbit thrown to the wolves.
They all watched her curiously.
Not knowing what else to do in the awkward silence, she hesitantly strode forward and greeted them. “I…hope you enjoyed the festivities yesterday,” she said quietly, scanning the room and recognizing several of the faces.
Gio’s advisor and Consigliere, a stout, balding man, nodded stiffly. He seemed to be hunting for his Boss as well, repeatedly glancing at the doorway. Beside him were two unfamiliar men, likely also from New York. They shook her hand enthusiastically. The rest were men she had seen before while growing up in Pittsburgh.
She grimaced at the familiar older man in the back, who was frowning deeply at her. He grunted a greeting and then returned to his seat. Before she could react to the snub, several others came up to shake her hand.
The last one was a towering, dark man who also reached forward to take her hand. Unlike the others, he was built entirely of muscle, his burly frame almost completely shadowing hers.
A haze washed over her.
Ghost hands gripped her neck.
No.
Ana blinked furiously as the room spun around her. When her vision gradually came back into the present, she noticed the burly man assessing her with concern. “Luke.” She cleared her throat. “Sorry, it’s been a long weekend.”
They all smiled politely.
Gesturing for them to be seated, she was relieved when they all relaxed and carried on their earlier conversations without her prompting. Small talk wasn’t her favorite; she had to watch what she said and inquire about things she couldn’t care less about. But her aunt had drilled the skill into her, and she used it often in her business as well. Her customers, much like mafia men, enjoyed a lot of attention and ass-kissing.
Though she hadn’t felt compelled to do so with Gio.
Checking her phone for any messages from him, Ana frowned, finding none. Where was he? She reluctantly turned back to the men and chit-chatted with them for the next few minutes. One of them beamed at her as he slid into the chair next to hers.
“Marco," she greeted warmly, "it’s been far too long.”
“Yes.” He looked pleased. “Almost a year, I think, since we last met.” With graying hair and slightly wrinkled eyes, he always appeared friendly. A rare quality for someone in his position as Capo of Philly.
“Isabella was an enormous help with the clothes donations over the winter. I hope she volunteers again next year.”
Marco’s face gentled. “I’m sure she will.”
“She didn't come to the wedding?”
“Ah, both my kids are having winter exams. They were begging to come, but their track record with school has been challenging.” Ana laughed as he hung his head in exasperation, but it was clear there was no heat behind it.
“Reminds me of Antonio,” she mused fondly, thinking of her cousin.
“But he’s become quite successful with the gold import business, hasn’t he?”
“Yes…so there’s still hope out there for your kids.”
Marco chuckled deeply and then quirked his head, regarding her speculatively. “Don Giovanni is a smart man.” She glanced at him questioningly, and he wavered before leaning in, dropping his voice to a quiet tone. “He knew what he was doing by inviting you here today.”
He did? The invitation had been issued so spontaneously this morning. She wasn’t entirely sure Gio had thought it through. He’d probably just felt bad about leaving her alone in their hotel room so soon after their wedding night. Either that–or he thought she was the perfect ornament to dangle in front of the men.
Perfect. Pedigreed. It would be an honor to have you.