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No. It was awful.
She nodded without looking up, not wanting to worry Gio, who was already suspicious after her panic attack.
His hand remained in place around her as he greeted each region’s Capos and their wives. They were all seated at their table. The thought of all of them wondering about her past and judging her made her more depressed. It hadn’t even been a concern for her until the she-devil brought it up.
“You spoke to Russo?”
Ana blinked in surprise, glancing at Gio. A mistake because the dark pools of his eyes compelled her with their intensity. How in the world did he know…? Ah. Reggie. Their bodyguard had been watching over her when she’d stepped outside. But she hadn’t expected him to report the encounter back to Gio.
“He mainly wanted to talk shop with Tony,” she said.
“And your cousin was able to–talk shop?” Gio’s brow raised.
Psh. Largely because Emma had spoon-fed him all the details just before Russo arrived. Tony had covered up any gaps with his charm. But she couldn’t say that to Gio. Tony didn’t want anyone to know he was struggling with the business.
So she simply nodded.
Gio’s fingers rubbed circles on her shoulder, causing the tips of her breasts to tighten unexpectedly. It was a move he was fond of every time they were close, tracing his fingers along her shoulders or hips. But it was rare these days after her nightmare.
“Russo’s daughter was supposed to be in Paris. I made sure of it before I extended the invite.”
Ana stared at him, trying to parse his statement.
Before she could question him further, dinner was announced. Everyone had gotten seated, and the servers began to arrive with their plates. She picked up her napkin, disquieted. Gio’s words were always measured. He never said anything just for the sake of it. He was making sure she knew that he had not invited Celia.
A relief.
And a curse.
Because there was a reason why he’d taken the pains to keep Celia away. There was something between the two of them.
Not now; before. Ana knew he wasn’t unfaithful now. She had asked him about mistresses that first day, and he had shut it down point-blank. ‘Mistresses are untrustworthy, and after betrothal, dishonorable.’ And if Gio was one thing, it was honorable.
But had there been something between them before he’d met Ana? Before he had to submit to duty?
Jealousy infiltrated her mind, seeping through her veins like the most insidious poison. Mafia women were meant to be pure and virginal, but there was no such requirement for men. Even though she’d never heard of any scandals or gossip about him, Ana knew Gio couldn’t have been celibate before. He was attractive, well-mannered, and a leader in the Family.
Few women would resist him.
Ana had contemplated all this before their betrothal. She knew he likely had a past, and it hadn’t bothered her terribly at the time. Probably because she hadn’t had to face it in its beautiful, bitchy form. Her nose wrinkled.
But, more than that, it was because she’d known Gio’s character from the start. He was a loyal man, one who would abide by his wife and family no matter what. That’s why she had agreed to marry him. That’s why she had let down her guard and embraced him after their wedding. He had lived up to his virtues and treated her well. And so, she had been happy over the past few months.
Sure, they may never have a love marriage. But it would be respectful and caring. That’s all she had hoped for.
So why wasn’t it enough anymore?
Gio laughed easily with one of the Capos, the sharp cut of his jaw and the perfectly tailored suit making him devastatingly handsome. The itch to curl her hand over his thigh and feel him under her was so strong, it made her heady. But it wasn’t appropriate.
Tonight was about decorum and duty.
Duty had brought them together, and it was duty that held them apart.
Just as with her adoptive family, Ana could only be so close to her husband. There was always an invisible line threading between them–the Family, their duty, her past, and his–all tangling together to hold them apart. The distance had protected her before, allowing her to hide from him. Now, it saddened her.
She wanted what Antonio had. The type of relationship that was so consuming that he’d shirked all responsibilities, letting Ana and Emma fend for themselves for the first hour of the gala while he rushed to Gabi’s side.
What would it have been like if she and Gio had met that way? If he had chosen her despite his duty…not because his parents had suggested her to him. If her last name wasn’t Mancini but that of a nameless soldier…If she wasn’t the perfect hostess, spending hours sucking up to everyone in the Family.
