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“After what? Your false promises? That you’d make my grandson a Capo, but instead let him run amok. No responsibilities, no title.” He scoffed loudly. “And then you threaten his birthright by adopting that wretch, a soldier’s girl, into our bloodline. Training and teaching her as you should have taught Antonio.”
“I taught them both!” Auntie cried. “Tony has a great business now, and Ana is married to the Don. Having Gio on our side, and soon Gabriella, is all promising. They will both achieve–”
Grandfather laughed mirthlessly.
“Gio on our side?”
Silence fell over them.
Dread coursed through Ana’s body, freezing her to the bone. The fury in his voice was molten, to the point where she feared it would not end here. Grandfather had already fought with her husband once before, the day after their wedding, and had received a warning for it. If he stormed out now and confronted Gio again, she didn’t know what she would do–what she could do–to prevent outright war between the two men. Auntie was the only one who had any sway over the Mancini patriarch, and even she was floundering.
“Gio has his own agenda.” Grandfather sneered. “Like all young men, he’s foolhardy and wants to rip out the establishment. Ana is following right in his footsteps. He hasn’t come to our side. She has gone to his.”
The old man turned away, shaking his head.
Her aunt also seemed defeated.
The vitriol lingering in the air deeply discomfited her, almost as much as the insinuation that Gio had brainwashed her. As spouses, they were expected to form a partnership. Gio shared his ideas with Ana, and so did she. The very reason they were even having a gala tonight was because she had persuaded Gio to become a uniter and abandon his quest for revenge.
Gio had heeded her advice and brought all the regions together, so why wouldn’t she defend him? Especially to a scumbag like Vitello.
Ana rubbed her arms, shivering in the midnight air.
She had to leave. Their arguments and prideful obsession over their bloodline were nothing new. The last thing she needed was for them to deepen the fracture between her and her husband.
Almost as if he’d heard, Grandfather echoed her thoughts. “Ana won’t betray her husband,” he warned. “No Family wife would. So you better use your maternal influence and butter her up, Marta. I don’t care what you do. I don’t care what you say. Just convince Ana to take up Vitello’s case with Gio.”
Ana remained there for several minutes, even after they left. Shock and disappointment coated her in an icy haze, rooting her to the spot.
Until Reggie finally emerged, questioning what happened.
Quietly, she glided back onto the walking path as he trailed behind her, confused.
She couldn’t tell him; he was a guard, one of many who had betrayed the Family before. Neither could she tell Gio, with his intolerance for disloyalty, nor Emma, who didn’t give a whit about Family politics. Even Antonio was long gone, but he wouldn’t understand; he was the prodigal son. The one who was born a Mancini, tied by blood.
There was no one for her to turn to.
There never was.
Chapter 12
The low hum of the machine started up again the next morning, droning on and on until it reached a jerking halt.
“Dammit.”
The fabric snagged again for the third time.
Ana sighed, leaning back in her chair as she set the half-ruined dress aside. Thankfully, it was just a sample and not a client order. But it made her all the more agitated. She had been seeking calm this morning, a distraction from the intrusive thoughts that had woken her up after a mere four hours of sleep. Her mind, however, would not relent.
She was disturbed after overhearing that fight last night, and it had only worsened when she’d woken up to that text. Ana stared balefully at her phone.
Each word had left a jagged shard in her chest until it felt difficult to breathe.
It was too much. The expectations, pressure, and insecurities–all swarming her after Grandfather and Auntie’s exchange, after Celia’s sly inquisition into her orphanhood. There had been so many praises from the guests, and yet they were overshadowed by Ana’s doubts.
When would she be perfect enough for her family?
For the Family?
