Twisted Hearts: Chapter 7

Diego was already parked at the curb when Toni and I walked out of school on the last day before the summer holidays. I hugged her before she headed for her bike and I got into the car.

Diego drove off at once, honking when a few kids didn’t cross the street fast enough.

“Bad mood?” I asked.

“Not yet. But that’ll probably change today.”

He was referring to his training with Savio. Diego wanted me to stay away from him and in the last four months, he’d succeeded.

“Mick told me to say hi to you.”

My brows snapped together. “Okay. Tell him hi back, I guess?”

Diego shook his head, muttering something under his breath. I decided to ignore him.

The moment we stepped into the restaurant and I saw Dad’s face, I knew I wouldn’t like what he’d have to say.

I sank down beside him and he pressed a kiss to my temple. Diego slid into the booth next to me. The door to the kitchen swung open and Nonna walked out, carrying a casserole.

Dad cleared his throat. “Gemma, I can’t wait any longer. We need to find a good man for you. Someone who’ll take care of you. We can’t focus on only one possible suitor. You’re not getting younger.”

Dad made it sound as if I was an old spinster and not only sixteen.

Nonna set down the casserole and gave me a knowing smile.

“But, Dad, you know I want…”

“You want Savio Falcone, we all know it,” Diego muttered. “As if he was the second coming of Christ.”

Nonna hit him over the head and muttered a quick prayer under her breath.

Diego rubbed the spot, ducking his head in case Nonna decided he needed a second round. “It’s the truth, and it’s a disgrace how she acts around him.”

Dad’s expression hardened and he leveled his disapproving eyes on me. “How are you acting?”

“I’m not doing anything,” I said, ducking my head too so I could send Diego a scowl. What was his problem? He usually didn’t rat me out.

“I hope you aren’t doing anything that’ll disgrace our family, angelo mio.”

I flushed, realizing what he was thinking.

“That’s not what I meant, Dad,” Diego said at once. “Gemma would never do that. But she’s been telling him about your search for suitors every time she saw him and giving him those embarrassing puppy dog eyes as if that would make him ask for her hand.”

Nonna touched my shoulder. “Young love is so precious.”

“It’s one-sided. Savio doesn’t do love. He only—”

Dad cleared his throat and Diego shrugged. “You know what I’m talking about.”

“I do,” Dad agreed. He stroked my head as if I was still a little girl. “Men like him, Gemma, don’t marry, and you are far too precious to settle for what he wants.”

I cast my eyes down. “I know.”

“Good.”

We ate in silence until Diego and I left for our training with Savio. Dad sent me another meaningful look. He and Diego wanted to protect me, but I needed to give it another try. I wanted Savio and no one else.

I wasn’t allowed to fight Savio, only watch him and Diego spar with each other. But considering that I hadn’t even been allowed to do that the last few months, I was more than happy to work out at the boxing sack.

Diego always hovered close by, not giving me a second alone with Savio. After their fight training, he finally headed for the bathroom. I quickly knotted my baggy shirt so my abs showed while Savio wiped his face with a towel. My eyes were drawn to the sliver of skin that peeked out where his shirt rode up. The hint of black peeked out of his waistband. A tattoo? I hadn’t seen him without a shirt for years.

“You got a new tattoo?” I asked curiously, unable to stop myself. I walked closer like a moth is drawn to the light.

Savio lowered the towel, his dark eyes taking in my exposed stomach, and something in his expression filled my insides with butterflies. “Got it a few years ago.” The way his mouth twitched increased my curiosity. The tattoos on his forearms were always on display—the Camorra knife and eye on one wrist, and a mechanical watch speared by a knife surrounded by glass shards covering the scars on his other, but I wondered where exactly this third tattoo was.

“How big is it?” I asked without thinking. Mortification heated up my face when I realized how that sounded.

Savio chuckled. “Big.”

I had to bite my tongue not to ask what he was talking about and I knew that had been his intention in the first place. “What is it?”

“Telling you would ruin the effect. You have to see it,” he said, his voice lower than usual. Was he flirting? Or was I imagining things driven by despair?

Diego sauntered out of the bathroom, his eyes zooming in on my exposed stomach.

“Looks like you’re in trouble,” Savio said.

“I don’t care. He’s being unreasonable.”

“What’s going on here?”

“We’re talking about my tattoo,” Savio said, pointing toward his crotch.

“You—”

Savio raised a palm. “Calm down. I didn’t reveal anything.”

Diego didn’t look convinced. He searched my face, but I didn’t give anything away. “I should grab my things. We need to get home for dinner.”

“Don’t forget the meeting at eight,” Savio said.

“Meeting?” I echoed.

“Camorra business,” Diego said.

“The Bratva has been giving us trouble,” Savio added, despite my brother’s disapproving expression. Dad and Diego never told me anything.

I gave Savio a smile and he winked at me while Diego was busy stuffing his towel into his bag.

“My parents talk about nothing else but finding a good match for me,” I muttered, trying to sound casual. As far as smooth topic changes went, this was a bad one.

Savio was removing his bandages and didn’t look up. Behind him, I caught Diego rolling his eyes at me.

“The next few weeks will be tight for me. I have to prepare for my upcoming fight, so I can’t work out with you Diego. Remo needs to beat me into shape.”

Had he listened to a word I was saying? I opened my mouth to repeat myself, but Diego gripped my arm and dragged me away. I stumbled after him. “What are you doing?”

“Saving your dignity,” he hissed.

“What—”

“Be silent.”

He pushed me into the locker room then closed the door. “Grab your things. We’re leaving.”

I crossed my arms over my chest. “Stop ordering me around. You’ve been an asshole to me lately.”

“Because you’re acting like a goddamn idiot.”

My eyes grew wide.

“Savio, Gemma, I’m talking about Savio. Just give it up. You’re embarrassing yourself. The only thing missing is you asking Savio for his hand in marriage. Get it into your stubborn head that Savio’d rather chew on glass than chain himself to a woman.”

I looked away and snatched my gym bag. “People can change. Sometimes it just takes finding the right person.”

“You don’t really believe that’s going to be you, right? You’ve been in front of him for years now, not to mention that you’ve been talking about Dad looking for possible suitors for months on end. Savio doesn’t give a shit. He won’t ask for your hand.”

“But I know how he watches me. He wants me.” The words turned my cheeks hot. It was the first time I admitted it to Diego, or anyone but Toni.

Diego grimaced. “Of course, he does. But he wants you for free and without any ties. That’s not going to happen, so he lost interest. You’re too much work for his taste.” Diego regarded my face then shook his head with a sigh. “Come on, let’s head home.”

He touched my back, but I stepped out of his reach and walked ahead, angry at him even though I knew he was telling the truth. Nothing of this was Diego’s fault. He’d warned me from the get-go. It was my fault for falling for someone like Savio Falcone. And it was Savio’s fault for being such a male slut.

Savio was still unwrapping his hands, immersed in a conversation with Mick and Nino, who must have come in while we’d been in the locker room. I was surprised to see Mick. He rarely trained with Savio. Maybe because he was embarrassed about his lack of skill.

“Keep it together, all right?” Diego muttered. “We were raised to be prideful, so stop throwing yourself at him.”

I sent my brother a scowl, but he was right. I’d been flirting with Savio like there was no tomorrow, had dressed sexier to catch his attention and had talked about my father’s search for suitors until I was blue in the face—without results. This was as far as I’d go. Maybe Savio wanted a taste, like Toni had said, but I wouldn’t give it to him. Either he wanted me and was willing to show it, or he wasn’t. My stomach tightened at the implication of that statement. The chances of me marrying the guy I was in love with were close to zero.

But I had some pride and even Savio couldn’t make me give it up. If he was looking for easy lays, he could look the other way.

Diego and I stopped beside the three men. “We’re heading home.”

Savio nodded. His eyes briefly slanted to me but then he returned his focus to unwrapping the bandages around his wrists. Nino gave me a curt nod.

“I’ll come with you to the parking lot,” Mick said quickly as he grabbed his bag from the floor.

“Didn’t you just get here?” Savio asked with cocked eyebrows.

Mick flushed. “Uh, yes, but I forgot something in my car.”

Forcing myself not to look at Savio, I gave a wave and followed Diego toward the exit. He obviously wanted to leave as soon as possible. I’d noticed rising tension between him and Savio, and knew it was because of me.

“Do you want me to carry your bag?” Mick asked, startling me.

He was walking close behind me, smiling. “Sure.” I handed my bag to him. It wasn’t like it was too heavy for me, but if he offered to carry it, who was I to say no?

“Your fighting skills are crazy good for a girl,” Mick continued, giving me another smile. He hadn’t even seen me fight today, and the last time he’d been around when I’d trained with Diego had been more than a year ago.

“Thank you. Yours are good for a guy as well.” They weren’t really but I had to say something.

Mick frowned, obviously not getting my jab. He gave a hesitant grin.

Diego threw a glance over his shoulder and slowed, falling into step beside me. He sent Mick a look I didn’t understand.

Mick appeared flustered after that. Glancing between the two of them, I tried to determine what was going on. We stopped at our car. Mick as well, even though we’d already passed his car. Diego crossed his arms in front of his chest. I raised my eyebrows. Why was he acting like a bouncer? Did he have problems with Mick as well? Diego could be difficult, I was the first to admit that.

“So, Gemma, if you want more opportunities to improve your skills, I could train with you as well. Under Diego’s supervision, of course.”

I really didn’t understand how Mick could be a Camorrista. He was far too nice most of the time. “Thanks, that’s really kind, but with my choir rehearsals, school and church, I don’t have time.” I couldn’t tell him the truth, that his skills weren’t on par with Diego’s or Savio’s. They wouldn’t help me improve.

“Oh, sure. Anyway, if you want to mix up your routine a bit. I could take over from Diego occasionally.”

Diego opened my door and motioned for me to get in. “We have to get home. Nonna won’t appreciate us being late for dinner. Bye, Mick.”

I slipped in, glad for his rudeness. He threw the door shut before I could say bye to Mick as well, and grabbed my gym bag from him. Mick still stood beside my door even when Diego slipped behind the steering wheel. He finally stepped away when the engine roared to life.

“What was that about?” I asked, confused.

Diego didn’t say anything, only floored the gas with gritted teeth.

I stared out of the window, frustrated with Diego for treating me like a small kid and with Savio for pretty much everything.

“Mick’s head over heels for you.”

I choked on a laugh, turning to Diego. He was clutching the steering wheel in a death grip. “It’s not a fucking joke. Haven’t you noticed how he’s been sweet-talking you for months now?”

I thought about it. Mick had been exceedingly nice around me, but I’d thought it was just who he was. “Are you sure?”

“Of course, I’m sure. Guys talk, and he keeps asking me about you.”

“What does Savio say about me?”

Diego slammed on the brakes and hit the steering wheel with his flat hand. I gasped in surprise. “Seriously? He doesn’t talk about you and if he did, it would be like he talks about every girl, as if you’re a piece of ass he wants to sink his cock into.”

I couldn’t believe Diego had said that. He usually didn’t swear or talk about sex around me. He wanted to protect me from all of that, so he must be really upset if he acted that way.

He took a deep breath and ran a hand through his hair. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t use these words around you.”

“It’s okay,” I said.

He looked at me, and my stomach tightened at the worry in his face. “Promise me, you’ll keep your distance from Savio from now on. You’ll only get hurt. I know Savio, Gemma, and trust me, he’ll never give you what you hope for.”

I nodded. I’d already made up my mind to let Savio do the next step, but Diego’s worry affirmed my resolve.

I’d finished internalizing the lyrics for a new song when Mom came into my room. As usual, she didn’t knock. I’d given up trying to make her honor my privacy. None of the inhabitants of the house did. Mom walked over and kissed my temple. “Dad needs to talk to you about your future.”

That could only mean one thing. Dread settled in my bones as I looked up into her face. “Has he found… has he found someone?”

Mom brushed her palm over my hair. “Sometimes we find love in unexpected places. Now go.”

“Mom,” I whispered, but she gently led me out of my room. With a sinking heart, I headed into the kitchen, where I found Dad and Diego sitting at the table. Of course, Diego knew before me. Why would I find out first who my husband was going to be?

I stopped dead a few steps from them.

Dad smiled, but it looked tired. He’d been doing long hours in the restaurants these last few weeks. Since Diego had become a Made Man, Dad could focus on the business, but it didn’t make him work any less. I’d been helping him as much as possible in the summer break, but in two days I had to return to school.

“Angelo mio, come on over. I’ve good news.”

I trudged over to them then sank down in one of the chairs.

Diego’s expression was unreadable, but he was avoiding my eyes.

“Good news?” A flicker of hope burnt in my chest, but instead of kindling it into roaring flames, Dad smothered the last embers with his next words.

“Michelangelo asked for your hand and after talking to his father, I agreed to the bond.”

Diego met my gaze and his expression softened the slightest bit.

I couldn’t say anything. Dad had promised me to someone I didn’t want, someone who wasn’t Savio. I stood abruptly. The chair toppled over with a bang.

Both Dad and Diego looked at me in alarm. I was so mad at both of them. They’d always controlled every aspect of my life and I’d accepted it because it had seemed like a temporary restriction, but this decision would determine my whole life.

I was going to marry Mick.

Not Savio.

I rushed out, my throat constricting painfully. Just away. I needed to get away, but steps rang out behind me. I didn’t have to turn around to know who it was. A hand clasped my upper arm and I lost it. Whirling around, I lashed out with my arm and smashed my fist against Diego’s mouth. He didn’t manage to dodge the blow fully and his lip burst, spilling blood down his chin and shirt. He shoved me against the wall, making my ears ring. Blood kept dripping out of his mouth with every harsh breath. “Fuck, what was that for? Have you lost your fucking mind?” Anger and confusion simmered in his eyes.

“You and Dad decided who I’m going to marry as if I’m not a person capable of making her own decision. I bet you felt mighty powerful handing me over to your friend Mick like some expensive gift. Did you barter for me? Did you and him joke about what he’d have to do to marry me?”

Diego looked disgusted as if this was so far-fetched he couldn’t even begin to comprehend how I’d ever come up with the idea. “That’s what you think? All my life, I’ve been protecting you, Gemma, and that’s what I’m still trying to do, even if you make it really difficult sometimes.” He wiped the blood from his chin with the back of his hand, only managing to spread it on his cheek and cuff. The sound of shuffling came from the kitchen—

probably Nonna listening in on us.

“Then why did you tell Dad to give me to Mick?”

Diego stepped back. Was that regret on his face? It almost made me want to forgive him. “He was the best option. We are small soldiers. We get by, but that’s it. The Amalfi is eating up too much money.”

Dad should have never rebuilt our second restaurant after it burnt down a few years ago, but he didn’t want to break Nonna’s heart who’d opened both restaurants with Grandpa. “You are working so hard, you’ll be rising in ranks, you know it.”

“Maybe, but right now our family name doesn’t offer much. Men who want you can’t better their position by marrying you. That means all the men who asked for your hand either want you for your body or they have even less to offer than we do. Especially some of the designated Captains who asked for your hand aren’t men you’d want to be married to, they aren’t men I want you to be alone with. Mick’s family is fairly well off and his father is Captain. Even if Mick’s brother is going to inherit the title, he’s still a good choice.”

I shook my head, feeling sick and sad. “So, he was the highest bidder, hmm?”

I pushed past Diego and rushed up the stairs, not stopping until I was in my room and had flung myself on my bed. Then I allowed myself a good long cry.

For some reason, I’d never considered the option that I might not end up at Savio’s side in the end. Whenever I’d imagined my future, my name had been Gemma Falcone with Savio giving me that annoying, arrogant smile. I’d never minded an arranged marriage because it had always been clear that Savio would be the one I’d be promised to. It had always felt like fate, an irrefutable truth.

Today the silly hopes of a stupid girl were crushed. Savio didn’t want me, not in the way I wanted him. He wouldn’t push me out of bed, that was for sure, but he wasn’t willing to invest more than that. I swallowed as a new wave of sobs wracked me. It wasn’t that I’d never imagined how it would be to be close to Savio, to kiss him and run my hands down his body, but it had always only been part of the reason why I wanted to be with him. He was funny, incredibly so. I’d lost count of the times his stupid comments have made me snort-laugh, often when I’d spied on him and Diego, and wasn’t even supposed to listen. Even though he and his brothers weren’t Traditionalists, they lived for their family.

After a while, I quieted down and just lay on my side, staring blankly at my wall. I didn’t even feel like crying anymore. Hollowness crowded my chest. A knock sounded, but I didn’t react. The door creaked and steps rang out before my bed dipped.

“Don’t cry,” Diego said quietly. It was funny how difficult it was for him to see tears on my face when he did so many horrible things in the name of the Camorra.

“I’m not. Not anymore.” I rolled around to face him.

He watched me for a long time. His lower lip was already swelling, but he’d gotten rid of the blood and changed into a clean T-shirt. That he wasn’t angry at me for punching him showed that he did, indeed, feel guilty. “Mick’s all right. He’s decent, and I’ll make sure he treats you right, trust me. With him I can really keep you safe. If you’d been given to some Captain or an Underboss in another city, you would have been at his mercy. I couldn’t allow that. With Mick, you’ll never have to fear violence. You don’t have to be scared.”

“I’m not. I know Mick. He’s nice.” Mick wouldn’t hurt me, I was sure of that, even if I didn’t know him that well, but given how tight Diego, Savio and Mick were, my brother probably knew every one of his dirty deeds.

Diego looked at me with pity in his eyes. I hated that look because it made me feel so stupid and naïve. Of course, that’s exactly what I was, thinking I could change Savio Falcone’s ways. Even if he married one day, it would probably be the daughter of some Underboss. “Savio’s a player, Gemma. He had the chance to ask for your hand. Dad would have given you to him. Every family would have given their daughter to him.”

I nodded. I’d known this for a long time. I’d chosen to ignore facts and stay in my bubble. I only had myself to blame. It was always easier to blame others, though. “But he didn’t ask. I thought…” I couldn’t say what I thought. That there was something between Savio and me, a connection. “I thought he liked me. I thought I caught him looking at me.”

“He likes you all right,” Diego muttered. Again, I caught the undercurrent of anger in his voice when he talked about Savio. “And, of course, he checked you out. Every guy does.” Diego’s mouth pulled into a grimace as if me looking halfway decent was his worst nightmare come true.

I flushed. “I don’t want to marry Mick, or anyone else…”

Diego got up and threw up his hands. “You can’t have Savio, Gemma. Get it out of your head. Why buy a cow if you can have milk for free? That’s his credo, and the world is full of cows willing to throw their milk for free at Savio.”

I wanted Savio to have my milk, but not on his terms, not for free. Of course, that meant he’d never get my milk. Diego sighed. “Forget him. The sooner you get to terms with marrying Mick, the easier it’ll be.”

The problem was my heart belonged to Savio and even just trying to look at Mick like he could be something for me felt like I was cheating on my heart—and somehow Savio. “Easy for you to say. You don’t have to marry someone you don’t want.”

“You really think I’m going to marry for love, Gemma? Grow up. I’ll marry whoever Dad suggests, whoever helps our family improve in rank.”

“You’re such a romantic.”

“I’m being realistic. Dreaming about Prince Charming is for little girls, and you aren’t a little girl anymore. Not to mention that Savio is definitely no Prince Charming. He’s the Big Bad Wolf who wants to eat you.” He snapped his mouth shut and actually flushed. It took me a moment to realize why and then I felt my own cheeks heat.

Diego spared us both the embarrassment and stalked out of the room with a look as if he was going to be sick at any moment.

Less than ten minutes later, another knock sounded.

“Go away. I get it, I’m stupid!” I really couldn’t bear another talk with Diego.

The door opened and Mom peeked inside. Her brows crinkled and worry filled her face when she scanned my eyes. “Oh, Gemma. It’s not as bad as it seems.” She came over to me and stroked my head. “Is Michelangelo really that bad of a choice?”

“Apart from his name, you mean?” I said with a small smile, not wanting to worry Mom. She’d been feeling faint a lot since she was pregnant.

She smiled. “I’m sure his parents had a good reason for giving him this name.”

I gave her a doubtful look. Any child given the name Michelangelo had huge shoes to fill and could only fail to do so, especially given that Mick wasn’t the firstborn and wouldn’t become Captain.

“I know you probably don’t feel like it, but Mick and his father are coming over for dinner to celebrate the union.”

“Oh, no, Mom. He’ll know I’ve cried and he’ll feel horrible knowing it’s because of him. I don’t want to make Mick feel bad. It’s not his fault.” Well, technically, it was. He must have asked for my hand, but I couldn’t really blame him for having the guts to ask for my hand. It was nice knowing he liked me enough to consider marriage.

“You’re too kind-hearted, sweetheart. But we can do something about your eyes. We still have two hours. Why don’t you take a shower and I’ll look for a nice dress that you can wear?”

I nodded, not even in the mood to argue about Mom choosing my clothes. She’d opt for a modest dress, which was the message I wanted to send Mick anyway.

Two hours later, I was dressed in my knee-long, high-collared dark blue dress but other than in church, I wore my hair down because that way, it covered the red blotches still marring my throat from crying.

When the bell rang, nerves tightened my stomach. I’d known Mick even longer than Savio, but meeting someone after you found out he was going to be your husband was something else.

Dad and Diego went to get the door while Mom, Nonna, and I waited in our small dining room. Nonna touched my cheek, her crow’s feet deepening as she gave me a wistful smile. “I still remember when I met your grandpa for the first time. It was such a special day.”

I took her hand and squeezed, forcing a smile. Nonna and Grandpa had found love in their arranged marriage. Maybe I could find it, too, if I only stopped thinking about Savio. Voices rang out and then Diego walked in followed by Mick who was dressed in a white shirt and trousers and carrying red roses.

I flushed. He came toward me with a hesitant smile, but, in his eyes, I could see pride. Knowing that he was so pleased to marry me felt nice, but when I looked at him, there were no butterflies or heat waves. He was nice to look at, very tall and slightly muscled, and yet he wasn’t who I wanted.

Mick handed me the flowers and leaned forward as if he was going to kiss my cheek, but Diego cleared his throat. Rolling his eyes at my brother, Mick straightened. I gave him a quick smile to make up for Diego’s obnoxiousness. Diego didn’t move from my side. “Hey Mick, this is the first time you meet Gemma as your fiancée.” He jerked his chin toward his friend in a sort of greeting that came off like a warning. “Just remember she won’t officially be yours for the next two years.”

Two years before I’d marry Mick and be his wife—forever. Before we’d share a bed. I checked out Mick discreetly, trying to imagine being intimate with him, kissing him. But every time I tried, Savio’s face popped up. Heat crept up into my cheeks. Diego gave me a questioning look and I quickly tore my gaze away. I needed to stop thinking about Savio. Fidelity was the foundation of any marriage and even just thinking of another man when I was promised to Mick was wrong.

Mick’s father came toward me and extended his hand. He wasn’t smiling and the way he was checking his surroundings with barely hidden disdain, I knew why. He’d probably hoped his son would make a better match, someone who came from, or rather with money. “It’s a pleasure meeting you, Gemma.”

He was a good liar, I had to give it to him. Mick could obviously see past his father’s mask because his expression flashed with embarrassment.

“Thank you, sir. It’s a pleasure meeting you too,” I said in my best choir girl voice. He released me and turned back to Dad. They settled at the table. Mom and Nonna disappeared, probably toward the kitchen and I was about to follow to help when Dad motioned for me to sit.

Mick gave me another smile as we headed for the table.

I ended up sitting between Diego and Mick. They talked about races almost all evening, which meant I had to lean back so I wasn’t in the way, but Mick kept checking me out when he thought no one was paying attention.

After dinner, Mick approached my father. “Can I have a word with your daughter?”

Dad regarded him and crossed his arms in front of his chest, looking like a bouncer. Making sure no one got access before there was a ring on my finger.

I had to hide a sarcastic laugh by coughing.

Diego cocked one eyebrow, and just the gesture reminded me so much of a certain Falcone that I had to swallow hard.

“Diego will stay in the room, but he’ll keep his distance so you’ll have some privacy,” Dad said sternly.

Mick’s face fell, but he nodded. Mom sent me an encouraging smile, her palm pressed to her still hidden bump, before everyone filed out except for Mick, Diego, and I.

Diego stood right beside us, practically breathing down my neck. He was taking his guard duties a bit too seriously. I could hold my own. Even if Mick tried to cop a grope, I’d just smash my fist into his face. Diego’s lip was nicely swollen after all. I wondered what he’d told Mick.

Mick stepped up to my brother, annoyed. “You heard your father. You are supposed to give us privacy, man.”

“You can have privacy in two years, not before then,” Diego muttered.

I touched his arm. “Come on. Give us some room. You don’t have to hover like this.”

He tried to stare me down, but from the two of us, my stubborn streak was stronger. With a frown, he walked into a corner. His death stare directed at Mick was the most ridiculous thing.

“Thank you. He’s been intolerable since he found out I was going to ask for your hand,” Mick said in a low voice. I wondered just how long Diego had known. He hadn’t mentioned anything to me.

“That’s how he is,” I said then fell silent, not sure what else to say.

Mick regarded me with adoration as if he couldn’t believe he really got me. Guilt filled me, knowing I’d never be able to look at him the same way. Or could I? Was there a way I could make myself fall for him like I had fallen for Savio? But falling for Savio had happened without intention or reason, just by literally falling. I almost smiled at the memory. Could something like that even be forced?

I liked Mick, but love or attraction seemed impossible. Lust out of the question. I flushed.

Mick noticed and something shifted in his stance. “I know your family are Traditionalists. We, too, abide by very similar rules, so I won’t do anything that’ll make you feel uncomfortable, Gemma. But maybe we can go on occasional dates until then? In public places, and if your father insists on it, with Diego as a chaperone.”

“Sure,” I got out. I’d definitely insist on Diego being there, not because I couldn’t defend myself against Mick but because I could blame my brother on my awkwardness.

Mick nodded with a satisfied smile. “Now that everything’s settled, I’ll go looking for an engagement ring for you.”

My face muscles quivered from the effort to hold the smile. Engagement. Rings. Everything’s settled.

A sense of finality overcame me and with it a strange mix of sadness and anger.