The Don and His Russian Bride

III

The closing of the car door made me flinch. My proximity to Luciano about the same as it had been at the altar, but this time, we were enclosed in a tight space. There would be nowhere for me to escape to when the vehicle was traveling at one hundred kilometers per hour.

Luciano adjusted his seating position as the car began to move. His posture was strictly erect, a habit from being a businessman first and foremost, and his body turned towards me. "Now must be a time as good as any for formal introductions. I'm Don Luciano Martelli."

"A better time would've been before the wedding." My mind kept telling me there could be major repercussions for the way I responded, but my tongue refused to hold back. "I know who you are. Just as you know who I am."

"I do know who you are– Katerina Ivanov, the only daughter of Leonid Ivanov." Hearing my father's name was another punch to the gut. I no longer wished to be connected to the callous man who gave me away. "I've heard stories about how beautiful you are. I didn't know how true they were until I lifted your veil."

"Is that why you chose me to be your bride? You heard that I was beautiful?" My mouth turned sour at this information. It was no surprise that my husband was like the typical man belonging to the mafia, who couldn't care less if his wife had brains or a sense of humor. As long as she was pretty, she could meet his requirements.

"It's much more than that, bellezza." His eyes seared into mine. He was begging me to understand, but didn't care to elaborate further. "Is there anything else I can answer for you?"

"Who knows this is an arranged marriage?"

"My consigliere, Armando, is the only one. Of course, the men who work close to me suspect it, but it's not their place to question me. My mother and my sisters, however, are completely unaware. If you choose to say anything to them about our falsified romance, you will not be speaking to anyone for days. I can promise that, and I always keep my promises."

"I understand. But how can they not know that we weren't even in a relationship before today? Wouldn't they have seen us together before?" I asked. Nothing went on in my life without my father knowing about it. If I tried to fake a relationship in front of him, he would know the lie before I spoke it.

"I keep my family at a distance for their safety. They haven't seen me since I visited them in Genoa several months ago. I told them that we met two months ago in a coffee shop. They believe I've been keeping you to myself all this time."

"A marriage after only two months?"

"At least it's more than two minutes." He raised his eyebrows at me in a pointed look. Any lie he told them would be better than the truth. "Besides, they understand that when I want something, I get it."

As his hazel eyes dared me to test his ambition, my fears from earlier came racing back to my mind. Would we consummate the marriage tonight simply because he demanded it?

"Do they know what you do for a living?"

"My mother has an idea, but she doesn't know all the details. My sisters believe that I am only a very successful businessman. My identity needs to be kept a secret from everyone outside of the business."

I brushed my thumb over the gel polish on my nails. I had a dozen more questions for him. There was no way we could get through all of them in one car ride. "Where are we going now?"

"Somewhere that we can take our wedding photos." He turned his attention to his phone, promptly ending our conversation. I didn't mind if my questions remained unanswered for a while longer. I would still be processing the information from today for weeks.

The car pulled through an entrance shrouded by pansies. It didn't take long for me to guess that we would be taking our wedding photos in a garden. We stepped out to meet the young photographer, who led us past trimmed rows of hydrangeas to the fountain at the heart of the garden.