He didn’t remember much after that. The loud roaring in his ears, the pounding of his heart, the sweat dampening his palms. He refused to meet her gaze, knowing he couldn’t trust himself with his emotions right now. Could he refuse?
She had no idea what she truly asked of him. His acceptance of her request would set in motion a chain of events that scared the hell out of him.
Sawyer teetered on the edge, then realized there had never been a choice.
His marker had officially been called in.
He dragged in a shaky breath and accepted his fate.
He might have to satisfy the debt, but he didn’t have to be happy or gracious about it. Trying not to stumble, he made his way toward the door and clasped the handle in a death grip.
“So be it. But you better talk to her first. And God help you if she agrees.”
Sawyer lurched out the door without a backward glance.
…
Julietta sat in the Piazza del Duomo. A heavy fog shrouded the cathedral’s soaring, elegant lines, and a cold mist bit through vulnerable skin in an effort to nip bone. The wind whipped in late-March fury and pedestrians huddled past clad in long wool coats and hats. She stared at the gorgeous structure that had been a mainstay since childhood: the mingle of style and grace of each individual bronze carving on the massive gate; the sharp points of marble thrusting toward the sky. The gilded copper statue of La Madonnina dominating the sky.
She had loved sitting inside the cathedral, gazing at the rays of colored light as they filtered through the Gothic windows. The sense of peace and tranquility amidst great works of art and the mythical search for spiritual perfec-tion. Afterward, Papa would take her to the square at lunchtime, where they would feast on fresh paninis and drink cappuccino, washing the meal down with pancetta and ripened grapes from the market. She’d watch the women— fashionably dressed in designer suits and heels—come and go, and wish to transform into one of them someday.
Well, she had. At least on the outside. Her wool coat and matching fur hat bespoke a confident, stylish executive on her lunch break. Her green Prada handbag and Manolo shoes screamed refined elegance. Though she’d never left Italy to travel like Carina or her brother, she always felt safe at home. Never empty from not seeing other places.
Never strangled.
Until now.
She was going to marry Sawyer Wells.
Humiliation burned in her blood. Her own mother wished to marry her off so she wouldn’t become a cold, lonely spinster counting her gold coins. Their discussion had turned from amusing, to concerning, to enraging. She had shouted horrible things while her mama remained calm. Like an implacable statue, she’d repeated the same thing over and over.
You deserve happiness, my sweet girl. And if you won’t do it your way, I’ll do it mine. Sawyer Wells will give you what you need, though you don’t believe it now.
No. She didn’t believe it. Would never believe it.
Somehow, Sawyer owed her mother a great debt, and he’d marry her to satisfy it. Her mother craved a clear conscience where her children were traditionally married and settled.
obviously, she didn’t trust Julietta to run the business successfully alone, so she’d decided to add an extra layer of protection in the symbol of a big, strong man. oh, how she hated both of them with a passion right now. Her mother for her betrayal.
And Sawyer for his agreement.
A shadow fell upon her. Sawyer sat beside her on the bench, keeping a polite distance between them. Her gaze roved over the shine of his rolex watch, the radiance of his white-blond hair, the cool charcoal tones of his cashmere coat. The red scarf tucked neatly around his neck gave a hint of his boldness and ability to not care about other opinions.
They sat together for a long time in silence while the wind roared and their skin numbed. Pedestrians hurried past them, tilting their heads up toward the sky to try and gauge the magnificence of the Duomo with its intricate architecture and soaring grace. A large flock of pigeons descended from the sky and clogged the piazza, their wings bright blue and heads bobbing furiously for leftover crumbs.
Julietta watched in silence as a younger couple squished together for warmth and laughed at the bird invasion. The woman was pretty, with brilliant red hair. She knelt down and put her hands out, and a bunch of the winged crea-tures hurried over and hopped onto her body. Her laugh was bright and tinkled through the fierce wind. The man laughed with her, knelt down beside her, and kissed her.
The picture burned into her lids and reminded her of the things she’d never have.
She finally spoke. “Do you owe her that much?” she whispered. “enough to give up your life for a sham of a marriage?”
“yes.”
Julietta nodded, already anticipating his answer. A yawning emptiness and grief roared up and pumped through her veins, looking for some type of outlet. She squashed it like an ant under the heel of her stiletto. Never again. She wouldn’t let herself go back to that place of feeling, surrender. Not with him.
“I said no, of course. Walked away and swore I’d never return. I called her names. raged at her. She just took it and said she believed this was for the best.” A crazy laugh escaped her lips. “you know the worst part of this charade?
She believes she’s right. She’s not doing it to hurt us, or make us suffer. What do they say about good intentions?”
“The road to hell is paved with good intentions.”
“That’s the one. Give the man a gold star. oh, and a wife! Cha-ching!” She clamped down on the mania and struggled for composure. No reason to get wacky over a simple marriage merger. Because that was what it would be. She’d give her mother what she wanted, but in her own damn way. “Forgive me, I’m still adjusting. even though this is Italy, I didn’t know arranged marriages occurred anymore.”
“I understand.”
His voice was gentle, and she had a crazy impulse to grab his hand and beg him to make it all okay. Take her in his arms and say they’d work it out and ease the terrible tightness in her chest. But she did what came naturally. Sat quiet and stiff in her own cold bubble and did nothing. “It took me three days to realize she won. That everything I was so proud of becoming meant nothing because I’d still obey her like a child.”
“What changed your mind?”
That part was the worst. Julietta didn’t like to disappoint her mother, but there was no way she’d bend to a loveless marriage. Until she said the words that singed her ears and crippled her resolve.
“Before your papa passed on, he made me promise two things: to make sure you solidified La Dolce Famiglia as our family legacy. And for you to marry. He loved all his children equally, but you were special to him. He worried about you the most. I do not think his spirit will rest until you give this to him, sweet girl.”
A deathbed promise with her as the casualty. She tried to ignore the words, but they haunted her day and night.
The portrait in her office stared back at her, demanding her acquiescence. Until she finally realized she had no other choice. Just like Sawyer.
She spoke with no emotion. “She said Papa would want this. For me. For La Dolce Famiglia. And I’m afraid she’s right.”
Sawyer made a move, almost to comfort, but she stiff-ened and he pulled back. She couldn’t have this awful conversation with any type of warmth or she’d never recover.
“How do you want to proceed?” he asked quietly.
This she could handle. “I’d prefer to say we eloped. Like Carina and Max. As soon as our paperwork arrives, Father richard can marry us with just my mother in attendance.
I’ll tell my family it was a whirlwind affair, and we wanted little fanfare and attention. We can cite the merger and our workload to escape a honeymoon. We’ll send out a brief press release, tell our respective companies in a meeting, and hopefully the fervor and gossip will die down quickly.
Is that acceptable to you?”
Sawyer nodded.
The young couple before her rose to their feet, inter-locked arms, and walked out of the square. She watched them leave and wondered if they would always be that happy. She shook off the thought and got back to business.
“Good. Now, as for residence, I propose we get a big place immediately. I’ll rent out my apartment for now. I’d prefer Milan to be close to the office, if that’s okay, and we’ll split the cost equally. We’ll need plenty of space so we can lead our separate lives without bothering the other. I’ll put my realtor on the hunt immediately. Agreed?”
Another slight nod.
“We’ll need a prenup. Would you like to use my lawyer or yours?”
“Doesn’t matter.”
A family took the place of the couple and crowded in front of the bench. Two small boys ran around, laughing in delight as they chased pigeons, while the parents shook their heads and tried to rein them in. Julietta watched the man grin broadly, point up to the Duomo, and pull his mate in close. She leaned in with a naturalness that spoke of years together.
Julietta continued. “We’ll need to set the terms, of course. Mama never needs to know our intention to end it after a certain allotment of time. If it’s acceptable to you, I’d like to use two years as our frame. I’m afraid one year won’t satisfy my mother’s wishes, but two is a fair enough deal to say we both tried. Unless you disagree?”
He didn’t look at her. Just stared at the young family as if they were the key to unlock the answers he needed. “Two years is fine.”
“Good. I refuse to let this thing throw off our time schedule and delay opening. you have my word I’ll hire help and get this transition done as smoothly as possible.”
He lifted his head as if awakening from a fairy-tale sleep. “What about us?”
She blinked. “Us?”
“yeah, us. What’s the rules for that? Same bedroom?
Separate? Do we share work during the day and distance ourselves at home? Are we companions who share meals and conversation? Have you planned that out yet?”
Her back went ramrod straight. His gaze probed hers, as if he were looking for some type of emotion she refused to show him. What did he want from her? She snapped out her words with deliberate precision. “Why don’t we take care of all the necessary details before we subject ourselves to a heart-to-heart? once we marry, we’ll sit down and go over what each of us is comfortable with. I’m sure we can agree to a mutually beneficial compromise.”
He laughed with no humor. “Spoken like a woman in complete control of the situation. Must be nice.”
Her defenses split, ripped, and bled. “What do you want from me? An apology?” Her voice broke, but she pushed on. “I’m sorry. Sorry a debt owed to my mother will stick you with a charity case for two years. Sorry I wasn’t enough for my family, for me, for anyone. especially you.” Her eyes burned with unshed tears. “I’m doing the best I can to make this palatable for both of us.”
The shell of the civil, distant man beside her shattered.
He reached out, grabbed her upper arms and pulled her against his chest. “you offer me an apology?” he tore out, golden eyes spitting sparks of fiery rage as he shook her slightly. “Goddamn you to hell. you think I’m upset because I’m stuck with you? How dare you call yourself a charity case to the man who kissed you and stripped you and fucked you for so many hours we both fell into exhaus-tion? you deserve a man to be whole—a man who can offer you a decent life and not tear you apart piece by piece. I’ll never be able to give you what you need. Don’t you understand I’m frozen inside? There’s nothing left to give you except physical pleasure.”
