Arranged Mafia Marriage

Karma

If he’s watching me, it’s not because he has cameras in this room. I glance around the space again, taking in the light fixtures, the air vents, the shelves in the room-hell, even the corners of the ceilings, where a camera would have most likely be hidden-but can’t see anything. Which is not to say that there can’t be cameras in the mirror that is pushed up against one wall, or even embedded in a piece of furniture or something, but somehow, I doubt it. In the few days since Michael had made that statement, I had slept well, hadn’t had the sensation of being watched in any way-not in my room, definitely not when I go walking in the large garden that surrounds the house, or even on the beach, for that matter.

A few hours after Michael had left, Cassandra had hauled in yards of different fabrics. Then Antonio had shown up carrying a sewing machine-a new one, by the looks of it-followed by a drafting table, and all of the other instruments I need for sewing.

The result is that half of my bedroom has been transformed into a studio, and honestly, I am not complaining about it. I had also asked Cassandra to fetch me additional supplies that I’ll need for the creation I have in mind, and she had done it very happily. Andy is now a permanent fixture in my room and he keeps me company as I sew.

I’ve taken to having my meals with Cassandra in the kitchen, and while I have not seen Michael on any of those occasions, she has assured me that he is very much around, and working hard, both in his study as well as at meetings that he has had to attend out of the house. Something to do with a flare up of tensions with a rival clan. Which is none of my business, really.

I have less than two weeks to come up with a creation which will blow his socks off, and I intend to make the most of that time. I have also drawn up a guest list for the event, which is beginning to look like an evening party, which is good. It means there’s no need to sit around a table and endure uncomfortable silences. No, for my Christmas party, which is going to be goth themed-surprise!-there are going to be lights and music…and a DJ. Yep, definitely need a DJ to get the crowd going.

I run into Michael briefly in the hallway and ask him who he wants to invite, and he says I can decide. When I tell him I want to get in a DJ, he flat out refuses, though. No strangers are to be allowed. Only close family i. e. his brothers, and yeah, unfortunately, that also includes extending an invitation to his father and his Nonna, I guess. So much for getting to decide who to invite.

I head back toward my room, grumbling under my breath. I don’t want to. But clearly, the man is close to his grandmother… As for his father… Well, he is family…so it makes sense to have him. And his brothers…of course. Not that I have a problem with any of them. Speaking of, I wonder what’s going on with Luca? Anyway, we’ll invite Antonio, Cassandra, and Aurora, as well. Which still leaves the question of the DJ. Damn it! I reach my room and start slamming things around on my work table. “What’s a party without a DJ?” I muse aloud.

“Someone mention a DJ?”

I jerk my head in the direction of the voice and find Xander, standing in the open doorway.

“Didn’t realize I had mumbled that aloud.” I redden.

“I heard you were organizing a Christmas bash and figured you could do with a hand.” He ambles in. “Mind if I take a seat?” He nods toward the chair by the window, then before I can agree, he wanders over and sits down on it. Apparently, all of the Sovrano brothers are confident enough that no one will refuse them. Of course, whether that confidence is a result of respect or fear is another story. Oh, well.

He kicks out his long legs, clad in tailor-made slacks, no doubt, cut by the same family tailor who creates Michael’s clothes. He taps his long fingers on his thigh, “So, you need a DJ for the party, huh?” Xander asks.

I nod.

“And I guess my brother did not want anyone from outside our immediate circle of family and friends at the party?”

“You know your brother well,” I mutter as I place my scissors down by the cloth that I had been cutting earlier. I lean a hip against my worktable, “Do you have any ideas? I mean a party without a DJ is like a rose without thorns.”

“Or the sixties without the Beatles,” he smirks.

“Or Apocalypse Now without music by the Doors,” I chuckle.

“Or like Harry Potter without Draco Malfoy,” he offers.

“OMG!” I gasp, “Seriously though, sometimes I am sure I am more of a Dracohead than a Potterhead.”

“You always fall for the bad boy, huh?”

I firm my lips, “You have no idea.”

He raises his hands, “I didn’t mean anything by that statement.”

“I know you didn’t,” I murmur, then hunch my shoulders. “How are you in here anyway? I thought the Big Bad Capo had forbidden even his brothers from coming in here.”

“Not me, though.”Content held by NôvelDrama.Org.

“Not you?”

“The rules don’t apply to me.” He grins and whoa, his charm hits me full whack, like the fireworks over the Thames on New Year’s Eve. Jesus, these Sovrano brothers sure pack a punch. Each of them is deadly in his own right. Though Michael is, by far, the most dominant, the most mesmerizing of all of them.

“Is it because Michael doesn’t consider you a threat?”

He blinks then chuckles, “You think fast, don’t you?”

I raise a shoulder, “You’re here, so yeah, it’s not rocket science.”

“Let’s just say, Michael is aware that I’d never do anything to hurt him.”

“You care for him deeply,” I murmur.

“I’d give up my life for him.”

“Oh,” a ball of emotion sticks in my throat. “It’s what I’d do for my sister Summer.”

“She’s older than you?”

I nod, “We only had each other growing up, so we learned to take care of each other.”

“You miss her?”

I nod again.

“Have you called to let her know that you are here?”

I hesitate, then walk over to sit down in the chair opposite him. “I’ve been texting her regular updates, enough so she does not worry about me.”

“But she’s not aware that you are married.”

“Or that I am pregnant.”

I follow his gaze to my stomach and find I’ve placed my palm against my belly, as I seem to do so often nowadays.

“Why is that?” His voice is gentle and when I look up, the look in his eyes is even gentler.

A thickness clogs my throat and I swallow it away. “I just wasn’t sure where to start, really.” I wring my fingers together, “I am not sure she’ll really understand what happened. More likely, she’s liable to fly down here and demand that I return with her-”

“And you don’t want to?”

“No,” I say so softly that I can barely hear myself, but he catches it.

He leans forward and grips my shoulder. “You are not alone. We’re your family now, and we are all here for you.”

I sniffle.

“And Michael, regardless of his growly, grumpy nature… He does care for you, in his own way.”

“That almost makes it worse.” I sigh and lower my chin. “I think the two of us have grown to care for each other, yet we seem to not have a single conversation without getting angry with each other.”

“Maybe it’s how the two of you communicate, you know?”

“What, by sparring with words?”

“And with weapons.” He waggles his eyebrows and I laugh.

“Yeah, I know, I can’t believe I pulled a knife on him. Not to mention, you know-” I mime whacking someone on the forehead.

He winces, “That was quite an escape you made there, young lady.”

“I ended up driving a wedge between Michael and Luca because of that, didn’t I?”

“Luca did that all by himself, by betraying Mika.”

I wince, “I played a role in it though. If I hadn’t wanted to leave, Luca wouldn’t have found the opportunity to do so.”

“You just happened to be there. If it hadn’t been you, it would have been something else. Luca was waiting to undermine Michael. It so happened that you came along first.”

“Right.” I blow out a breath, “Not sure if that makes me feel better at all.”

“I know what will make you feel better.”

“What?”

“Finding you a DJ.”

“You know someone?”

He spreads his arms, “You’re looking at one of the best DJs in Palermo.”

“Which is not saying much, given the size of the city,” I snicker.

“Hey,” he thumps his chest, “you disparaging our fair city?”

“Not at all.” I chuckle, “Besides, not like I have a choice.”

“Jeez,” he shakes his head, “you sure know how to trample all over a man’s ego.”

“I have been practicing.” I tip up my chin, “Can you tell?”

“I can see why my brother likes to verbally spar with you.”

“More like we can’t stop fighting when we are in the same room.”

“It’s another way of showing how much you two care about each other.”

“Oh, I am not sure about that.”

“I am.” He lowers his arms to his side, spears me with a look. “I have never seen Mika look at anyone the way he looks at you.”

My heart begins to thud. My belly flip-flops. I push my hair over my shoulder, then pretend to study the pattern on the pile of fabric on the opposite side of the room. “You must be mistaken; it’s really not like that.”

He laughs, then throws back his head and laughs harder. “You can try to say otherwise, but you and I both know, you have Michael tied up in knots.”

“Who’s tied up in knots?”

I jerk my chin in the direction of the doorway.