Chapter 2 - The Bride Nobody Wanted
June did not remember agreeing to get into Matteo’s car.
One moment she was standing in the courthouse corridor staring at the closed elevator.
The next, she was sitting in the passenger seat of a black SUV while Matteo spoke rapidly in Italian to someone through his phone.
His voice stayed low.
That frightened her more than shouting would have.
June clutched the photograph of her mother.
“Tell me what she wants.”
Matteo ended the call.
“We don’t know that Sofia left it.”
“She was there.”
“That proves she was there.”
“She was running away.”
“My aunt does not run.”
“Well, she moved very efficiently toward an elevator.”
Matteo looked at June.
She held up the photograph.
“My mother has a target drawn around her head. I’m done with careful wording.”
“I sent two men to your mother’s house.”
June sat forward.
“You what?”
“They won’t approach her unless necessary.”
“You can’t put armed strangers outside my mother’s home.”
“They’re not strangers to me.”
“That is not reassuring.”
“June.”
“No.”
Her hand shook.
Matteo noticed.
He reached toward her.
June pulled away.
“Don’t.”
His hand stopped.
For several seconds, neither spoke.
Then Matteo said quietly, “She will be safe.”
June looked out the window.
Traffic moved through Newark beneath a dull afternoon sky.
“I entered this arrangement because I thought it would solve my family’s problems.”
“It will.”
“You don’t know that anymore.”
“I do.”
“How?”
“Because whoever sent that photograph just made the mistake of becoming my problem.”
June turned toward him.
There it was.
The man behind the reputation.
Not theatrical.
Not boastful.
Simply certain.
“People aren’t paperwork, Matteo.”
“I know.”
“You can’t stamp this resolved.”
“No.”
His gaze rested on the photograph.
“But I can find out who printed it.”
That evening June met Matteo’s family.
Not because she wanted to.
Because Matteo decided the wedding would proceed the next morning, and because his grandmother, Caterina DeLuca, insisted the future bride attend dinner.
The DeLuca estate in Alpine looked less like a home than something a European government might use for diplomatic meetings.
June disliked it immediately.
Too many gates.
Too many cameras.
Too many men pretending not to be security.
Matteo parked near the front entrance.
“You can still walk away.”
June stared at him.
“After telling me canceling would reward whoever threatened me?”
“I changed my mind.”
“Why?”
“Because your mother became part of it.”
June studied him.
“You’d let the trust go?”
“Yes.”
The answer came too quickly to be fake.
That unsettled her.
“You need control of those companies.”
“I need many things.”
“And?”
“Not at the price of your mother.”
June looked down.
Something inside her shifted slightly.
She ignored it.
“I’m going inside.”
Matteo followed.
Dinner was already underway when they entered.
Twenty-two people sat around a table designed for thirty.
Conversation stopped.
June had never experienced twenty-two wealthy people judging her simultaneously.
It was impressive.
A white-haired woman at the head of the table rose.
Caterina DeLuca was eighty-two and looked capable of outliving everyone present through irritation alone.
“So,” she said.
“This is June.”
June stepped forward.
“It’s nice to meet you.”
Caterina examined her.
“No, it isn’t.”
Matteo sighed.
“Nonna.”
“What? Everyone here is thinking it.”
June smiled.
“I appreciate efficiency.”
Caterina’s eyes sharpened.
Then, unexpectedly, she laughed.
“Sit beside me.”
That annoyed several people immediately.
June noticed.
Especially Sofia.
Matteo’s aunt sat halfway down the table wearing pearls and a black silk dress.
She looked elegant.
Controlled.
Nothing like a woman who had fled an elevator hours earlier.
When June took her seat, Sofia lifted her wine.
“We’ve met.”
June turned.
“In the courthouse.”
Sofia smiled.
“I had business there.”
“Near the records floor?”
“Yes.”
“What business?”
Matteo’s uncle Carlo set down his fork.
“This is dinner, not cross-examination.”
June looked at him.
“Occupational habit.”
Sofia’s smile remained.
“I was meeting an attorney.”
“Which attorney?”
Matteo placed one hand on June’s chair.
Not silencing her.
Steadying the situation.
Sofia looked toward him.
“Is this how it will be now? A clerk interrogating your family?”
Matteo replied, “If my family behaves suspiciously.”
Silence.
June felt every eye move toward him.
Sofia’s face hardened.
“You insult me for her?”
“I asked no question.”
“You didn’t need to.”
Caterina tapped her glass.
“Enough.”
Dinner resumed.
Barely.
June learned quickly that the DeLucas communicated through implications.
Carlo mentioned prenuptial agreements three times.
A cousin named Bianca asked whether civil servants were eligible for pensions after “brief marriages.”
Someone named Victor wanted to know whether June intended to continue working.
Sofia discussed women who mistook access for belonging.
June ate pasta.
Matteo watched everyone.
Near dessert, Caterina leaned toward June.
“Why are you doing this?”
June almost lied.
Instead she said, “Because my family needed help, and Matteo needed a legal wife.”
Caterina nodded.
“Good.”
June blinked.
“Good?”
“Love makes people stupid. Honesty makes them useful.”
Across the table, Matteo heard.
His expression gave nothing away.
Caterina continued.
“But understand something. These people will test you.”
“I noticed.”
“They tested Matteo too.”
June glanced toward him.
“He seems intact.”
Caterina’s gaze became distant.
“Not entirely.”
Before June could ask, Sofia stood.
“A toast.”
Nobody looked enthusiastic.
Sofia raised her glass.
“To tomorrow’s marriage.”
Matteo’s jaw tightened.
Sofia smiled at June.
“However long it lasts.”
Glasses touched reluctantly.
June did not drink.
Later, Matteo walked her toward the guest wing.
“You handled that well.”
“I’ve processed restraining orders with friendlier energy.”
“They dislike what they can’t control.”
“Meaning me?”
“Meaning me choosing you.”
June stopped.
“Why did you choose me?”
Matteo stopped too.
“You know why.”
“I fit the trust.”
“Yes.”
“There had to be others.”
“There were.”
“Then why me?”
He looked at her.
The hallway suddenly felt too quiet.
“Because the first time we met, everyone else in that courthouse was watching me.”
June waited.
“You were watching the missing page.”
She almost smiled.
“That’s your reason?”
“It was unusual.”
“That is possibly the least romantic sentence ever spoken before a wedding.”
“This is not romance.”
The words landed harder than they should have.
June lifted her chin.
“Obviously.”
Matteo’s eyes remained on her.
Something passed between them.
Uncomfortable.
Unspoken.
Then a maid appeared around the corner.
“Mr. DeLuca?”
“Yes?”
“There’s something in Miss Bellante’s room.”
Matteo moved first.
June followed.
The guest room door stood open.
On the white bedspread lay a scarlet wedding dress.
Not the simple ivory dress June had purchased.
A red gown.
Elaborate lace.
Thousands of beads.
A white veil rested beside it.
June stepped closer.
“There’s a card.”
Matteo picked it up.
The handwriting was unfamiliar.
He read silently.
His face changed.
June took the card.
WEARING WHITE IS FOR WOMEN WHO BELONG HERE.
Below that was another sentence.
ASK MATTEO WHAT HAPPENED TO THE LAST WOMAN HE PROMISED TO PROTECT.
June looked up.
“What woman?”
Matteo did not answer.
“Matteo.”
His phone rang.
He ignored it.
June stepped closer.
“Who was she?”
The phone rang again.
Finally Matteo answered.
He listened.
All color left his face.
“What hospital?”
June’s stomach dropped.
“Who is it?”
Matteo ended the call.
May you like
He looked at her.
“It’s your mother.”
