Chapter 7: Veiled Vows: Chapter 7

“We’re getting married!”

The entire party falls silent. My mother spots me first, following the sound of my voice and smiling until she registers the man standing next to me, whose hand is tightly gripped within my own. She turns as white as a sheet and her mouth falls open. As shock consumes her, her glass slips from her fingers and shatters into a thousand pieces on the floor, drawing my father’s attention.

“Bianca, what the hell are you doing?” he hisses, seemingly deaf to my announcement and the hundreds of curious eyes locked on me and Roman.

“Your daughter,” Bianca murmurs, clutching at Enzo’s arm. “She’s getting married.”

“Of course she is, that’s what we agreed⁠—”

“To him!” She points one long finger at Roman and he smiles brightly, although this close, I can see a slight waver at the corner of his mouth. He’s cocky, and his idea is rather brilliant, but that smile is just a mask. As much of one as my own.

My father glances briefly toward me, nodding his head and then he does a double take when he spots my hand intertwined with Roman’s. The fallen glass is forgotten, and barely anyone notices the waiter darting about between people’s legs to clean up the broken glass.

All eyes are on me.

“What?” Enzo barks, fighting to keep his voice low. “What is the meaning of this?” He notices everyone watching us faster than my mother does. She’s quickly dissolving into tears behind a tissue, and my father tries to brush her away from curious eyes. “Jasmine, get over here this instant.”

I stand my ground. This is … an insanely unexpected turn of events, but after everything we overheard while being trapped in that closet, it has to be the way forward. If the Mancinis are set on wiping us out because this feud has spilled over, then ending it is the only way I can focus on what I want. I can’t raise this family higher and look for my mystery man if we all end up dead.

Besides, being in that closet pressed against Roman has my heart fluttering for other reasons. I don’t deny that he’s incredibly attractive and there’s something very sexy about the smoky, spicy scent that wafts off his incredibly built body. He took up nearly all the space in that closet, and while small spaces tend to send me into a panic, Roman’s touch was oddly grounding.

Or that was all in my head, and I was just achingly hungry for some closeness. Either way, it’s a distraction and repeatedly weaves around my mind despite how I’m trying to focus on my approaching father.

“Jasmine, you better⁠—”

“What is going on here?” Santino, Roman’s father, melts through the crowd with another man in tow. The stranger shoots Roman a deadly glare, then his eyes drop to me, and a strange, cold smirk spreads across his lips.

“Father.” Roman’s grip on my hand tightens. “I have agreed with your decision that Jasmine and I are to be married.”

You could have knocked Santino over with a feather. “Excuse me? My decision?”

“Of course,” Roman smiles. “I wouldn’t make such a move on my own, you know this. But remember, Father, you and I were discussing just last night that this feud between our families has gone on for long enough.”

“It has?” Enzo and Santino ask in unison.

“It has. And what better way to move forward and show the world that we are better, stronger as a union than to make that union official.”

Soft murmurs rise from the crowd as the news spreads, and Roman presents a unique opportunity to his father. He’s allowing him to take credit for such a bold move and presenting it in such a way that if Santino refuses then the social repercussions will be huge.

“With my blessing, of course,” Enzo remarks. “Jasmine is my daughter.”

As a commotion of conversation strikes up, my mother’s hand wraps around my free wrist and she tugs me away from the crowd. Roman lets me go, falling into whatever testosterone conversation has risen over who takes credit.

“Jasmine, dear. What is going on?”

“Mother, I⁠—”

“Did your father put you up to this? I knew he didn’t like Frank, but I didn’t think he would make a decision like this so quickly. You know how these things can get out of hand.”

Frank? The name escapes me until I spot a rather dejected-looking man falling back into the crowd, and my heart sinks. Of course. I’d briefly forgotten about the fiancé I was supposed to meet tonight. Bianca clutches tightly at my hand, and the earnest worry in her teary eyes makes my chest ache.

I can’t tell her the truth. If she knew the eyes of the Mancinis were on us with the intent to kill, her nerves wouldn’t be able to take it, and I would lose her one way or the other.

In the end, it doesn’t matter whose idea this is as long as it keeps the Mancinis off our backs.

“Yes,” I say with a smile. “Father alerted me to it an hour ago, but he told me to keep it a secret. There’s so much fighting all the time and he’s tired of it. I’m tired of it. This way, we get to end it and throw a party.”

Bianca’s brows pinch together and she slowly pats my hand, then reaches up and dries her tears. “For a moment, I feared that man had done something to you.”

“Roman?” I glance over my shoulder. Roman is still in animated conversation with his father and mine, but someone else has joined them. A tall woman dressed in an elegant steel-gray dress that moves over her thin body like rippling water over rocks. “I think Roman is as shocked as I am.”

“Oh my!” Bianca clutches at my arm, her eyes wide.

“What is it?”

“That’s Theresa! Theresa Mancini!”

I know nothing of her except her name. She is the matriarch of the Mancini family, the one who gets the final say on everything. It’s her name on the parties, on the events and galas, and on the paper that dictates who lives and who dies. The very fact that she’s speaking to my father has to be a good sign. Or she’s about to kill us all.

Was she the woman’s voice I heard earlier from the closet? It was impossible to see past Roman’s bulk, but her voice is incredibly distinct. She bows her head slightly, flashes a pink-lipped smile at Roman, and weaves away through the crowd without another word.

“What was that about?” Bianca hisses as she approaches my father. “What did she want?”

Santino still looks stunned, completely rooted to the same spot he was in when Mother pulled me away.

“She was congratulating us on the engagement,” Roman replies. “And praising such a bold, smart move from my father. After all, it’s decisions like that that really catch their eye. And we all know the best way to stay on top is to absorb the troublesome family.”

“Exactly,” Santino replies as the strange man beside him presses a drink into his hand.

“Now hold on one second.” My father bristles and straightens up like a peacock readying to present his feathers. “Whatever makes you think that you will be absorbing us? You’ll be handing back everything you took from us, and then I expect you to fall in line.”

“Like hell we will,” Santino snaps. “You will finally get knocked down a peg or two and remain under the Gatti empire like you belong.”

“Empire?” Enzo scoffs dryly. “Don’t make me laugh. You barely have two coins to rub together for warmth. You have nothing to offer me, and there’s no marriage without my daughter.”

As quickly as calm was created, it immediately begins to tear itself apart. It would be the natural way this conversation would go if not for the fact that Theresa stands nearby with one eye fixed upon our group. This doesn’t work if she doesn’t believe it, after all, we’re supposed to be ending this problem so we don’t draw attention to ourselves. Roman seems to be on the same wavelength as me because the second I lock eyes with him, he wraps his arm around my waist and pulls me close.

“Listen,” he says loudly. “There will be teething problems, as to be expected when two great organizations come together. But the important thing to realize is that all of this?” He waves one hand between the group. “All this bad blood and anger will be a thing of the past after the wedding. This marriage is going to create a union to be reckoned with. No one will even dare mess with us after that.”

“Exactly.” I force my brightest smile. “It’ll be hard for all of us, but with the two of you hashing things out, this feud will be a thing of the past in no time.”

“They’re going to kill each other,” I groan to myself, studying my reflection in the mirror as the glass slowly steams up with heat from my bath. “I’ve dragged us away from one risk of death and shoved us right toward another.”

It made sense at the time. Perfect sense actually. Was it because of Roman and how he got my blood pumping by dragging me into that closet and blocking me in with his body? Did it make me lose all sense of strategic thought?

No. The marriage, as fake as it is, is a good thing. The Mancinis don’t mess around, and if they’ve decided we’re all too much trouble then they’ll waste no time in killing us. Ending this ridiculous war between our families—at least on the surface—is the only way to keep everyone I care about safe and give me the freedom to pursue what I still want.

Power. And my mystery man.

Roman has to be in the same boat though. He didn’t offer much in the way of reasoning, but it’s clear he has his own motives for making sure his family doesn’t end up just another smear under a Mancini boot.

This sham marriage is a good thing. Assuming we can keep Enzo and Santino from killing each other long enough for it to become binding. My father, oddly enough, had no qualms about claiming credit for the idea on the drive home and even tried to suggest that this had been his plan all along. That he’d merely been guiding me toward making such a good decision.

He’s blinded by the realization that he’ll be able to just take his weapon shipping lanes back and will no longer have to spill blood for them. Assuming Santino sees the benefit of us working together.

I’m happy to let him think that for now. It makes him happy, and if he’s happy, Mother is happy.

The pipes in the wall give a familiar clunk as I turn off the taps, run my fingers through some of the warm bubbles, and then strip off that too-tight dress. As much as I love dressing up, nothing beats the insane relief of being able to breathe freely once all that tight clothing is gone. I feel like my boobs have lost their shape after being squashed up for hours in a bodice far too rigid for comfort. Groaning, every muscle in my body complains and then relaxes as I ease myself down into the hot water and submerge myself in bubbles right up to my neck.

Utter bliss.

Parties and weddings and high families and threats of assassination—it all melts away with every passing second in the blissful heat of my bath. Closing my eyes, I rest my head back and let my thoughts wander.

The night could have been perfect. My mystery masked man could have turned up after hearing that I was about to be taken off the market and whisked me away to wherever he’s been hiding for the past eleven years. He’d cup my face with his hand and tell me he’s sorry for taking so long to come back to me, and then he’d make love to me under the stars while promising to never leave me ever again.

I’d make him promise for every kiss I laid over those gorgeous tattoos covering his arms.

The thought of him causes my core to tighten, but just as my fingertips glide south down my abdomen, Siri ruins the mood.

“Incoming call from Roman.”

How did his number get on my phone?

“Accept,” I groan, opening my eyes and staring up at the swirling blue ceiling tiles. The call connects. “Hello?”

“Jasmine?”

“How the hell did your number get on my phone?”

“Is that any way to talk to your fiancé?” The smirk in his voice is infuriating.

“You’re not my real fiancé but whatever, I’m hanging up now.”

“Wait!”

“What?”

“I wanted to ask you something.”

“Then tell me how your number is on here.”

“Your mother.” Roman sighs softly. “She gave me your number, in fact she gave me everyone’s number at the party. I assume she had something to do with it.”

Of course. I learned long ago that privacy is rarely a thing around my mother, which is why I keep nothing sensitive on my phone, but she must have been extra sneaky tonight. Maybe when we were eating? “Sounds like her,” I murmur. “So, what is it?”

“Why did you agree?”

“To the engagement?”

“Yeah. I want to understand.”

“Why?”

“So we both know where the other is coming from.”

“What if we have opposing goals, is the wedding off?”

Roman chuckles deeply. “You saw how closely we were being watched. That’s not an option.”

“I have things I want to do. Things I can’t do if I’m dead.”

“So you’re not going to tell me?”

“No. Are you going to tell me your reason?”

“No.”

“There we are.” It’s hard not to laugh as I rub one hand down my face, sending a flurry of droplets cascading across the water. “The man who was with your father, who was that? He didn’t introduce himself.”

“Alto. My half brother. No surprise he didn’t. The dude’s a dick.” Roman’s voice deepens slightly. “Are you in the bath?”

“Yes. Is there a problem?”

“You answer the phone naked, that’s good to know. Do you answer the door naked too?”

“To the right people,” I smirk. “People who are honest with me.”

“Honesty is a high price to pay.”

“Oh, I’m worth it, I assure you.”

“I only trust my own appraisal,” he replies with a smile evident in his voice. “I’m a hands-on kind of guy.”

“Then I will forever be priceless to you.” The flirting is light and enjoyable, but I have to be careful. Roman Gatti has a sexy reputation, and I will not be a part of it. The entire Gatti family is dangerous in more ways than one. “Sorry to disappoint you, but I’m off limits.”

“Yeah, I heard you were getting married.”

“That’s not it,” I say, bringing an end to the game. “I know about you, Roman. The things you’ve done. You might be attractive, but you’re a terrible person. This, between us? It’s nothing more than a selfish business agreement to enable us to pursue our own goals.”

“You find me attractive?”

“Of course that’s all you hear,” I groan. “Goodnight, Roman.”

“I’m hearing I might still have a chance.” He does not know when to give up.

“You have zero chance,” I say. “Because I’m in love with someone else.”