Thin Lies (Donati Bloodlines #1) (2 page)

A
child
?

A
boy, for that matter.

Was
that all she was worth to this man? Her ability to carry him a child, one with
the gender of his preference? Didn’t he realize that the man decided the sex of
a baby and not the woman?

Affonso’s
smile faltered for a split second. “You’re overthinking, Emma. I can see it in
your face. Your father and uncle have gone through great hoops to get one of
theirs tangled in marriage with a New York family. You’re not going to ruin it
for them, are you?”

“I
don’t really have a choice, do I?”

The
man sighed.

She’d
asked another question. “I mean no. Of course not, Affonso,” Emma said
quickly. 

“Well
done. You’re young, and so I will give you a pass on your behavior. I imagine
this is still a shock to you. A huge change. Am I right?”

Emma’s
emotions thickened in her throat. “
Sì
.”

“
Povera
ragazza
.”

Poor
girl.

She
glanced away from the man and the softness in his tone. “I’ll do what you need
for me to do, Affonso.”

“You
really are just a girl, hmm?” he asked. “Twenty is still a child in many ways.”

Maybe
to him and his nearly fifty years.

Emma
didn’t feel like a girl. She was simply trying to let her mind and heart catch
up to this awful day and begin to work together.

Even
still, she didn’t answer the man.

Apparently,
Affonso wasn’t looking for an answer. He dragged his gaze from the heels on her
feet to the bareness of her legs, and up to the swell of her breasts.

“I
like this dress,” he told her.

Always
thank a man when he gives you a compliment
, her mother used to say.
Smile
for him, sweet girl. Men need to feel respected.

Emma’s
lessons over the years came rushing back to her like a tidal wave of memories.
Whether she wanted to admit it or not, she had been groomed for this very
moment ever since she was just a young child.

“Thank
you,” Emma said with a smile.

“I’ll
have you a dozen more dresses like this one waiting in your closet at home.”

Home
.

The
one word was enough to make Emma sick.

“As
I was saying,” Affonso continued, smiling slyly as his leer traveled over her
body again. “… you’re still young in many ways, but you’re old enough in all
the ways that count,
bella
. I hope you know how to use those ways. I’m
not interested in teaching and, let me just say, you wouldn’t enjoy the way I would
teach you.”

Emma
felt her cheeks pink. Was he asking what she thought he was? That he hoped she
wasn’t innocent to a man and sex?

She
bit the inside of her cheek before muttering, “I don’t need to be taught.”

“Wonderful.”

Stepping
away from Emma, Affonso spun on his heel to face the waiting people. His hand
hadn’t released Emma’s, and he pulled her with him. She found the familiar
faces of her family and a few of her uncle’s men watching the exchange with
curious, but wary, expressions.

“Maximo,”
Affonso said, “are we just about ready to leave for the church?”

Emma
was shocked that her uncle was going to church at all. He hadn’t returned to
the Catholic church since he divorced his first wife. Maybe it was another way
for Maximo to extend a hand to Affonso in friendship. She wasn’t sure.

Her
uncle nodded. “Yes, we are. The cars are waiting.”

“We’ll
catch up in a minute,” Affonso replied to Maximo. “I want a second alone with
Emma, if you wouldn’t mind, old friend.”

Maximo
passed Emma a look as if to silently ask if she was okay with the request
herself. Emma didn’t see how her opinion of things mattered at all. It hadn’t
before, so why would it now?

Before
long, the house had cleared of people but for Affonso and another man standing
at the bay window. The color streaming in through the glass bathed him in
bright light, showcasing a tall frame and broad shoulders hugged by a tailored
suit. His dark hair was cropped short, but it was still long enough for him to
run his fingers through as he lifted a glass of water in his hand to take a
drink.

“Now
that we’re alone,” Affonso said, turning to Emma.

She
shot the quiet man with his back turned a look. “Um—”

“My
nephew always stays close by. Ignore him. As I said earlier, I was promised a
girl who knew her place, Emma. I want to make sure you understand everything
that means.”

“I
think you explained it well enough.”

“Then
why are you trembling like a little leaf?” he asked.

Emma
stilled on the spot. She hadn’t realized that she was still shaking. “I’m
nervous.”

Affonso
frowned. “Calisto?”

The
man at the window turned his head slightly, just enough to stare at his uncle
and Emma. Dark brown, almost black, eyes and a strong jaw framed the man’s
face. His sharp cheekbones and unsmiling lips hardened his features, but it
still stunned Emma.

It
stunned her because he was … beautiful.

A
hint of something dangerous and sinful wafted from the young man as the corner
of his mouth tugged upwards into something resembling a smirk or even a sneer.
She couldn’t be sure. Long fingers wrapped tighter around the glass he was
holding, drawing Emma’s attention to the fact he wore no wedding band and his
hands seemed strong.

She
could clearly see the resemblance between the younger man—Calisto, Affonso had
said—and his uncle.

“
Sì
?”
Calisto asked.

“
Cal,
ottenere vino
. Fill a glass. Hurry, before someone comes back and bitches
about her age and drinking.”

Calisto
chuckled deeply. The sound came out dark and heavy, and his tall, fit frame
rocked with movement. Emma thought he sounded almost musical, even if the man
looked entirely bored with the situation and day.

“Whatever
you need,
zio
.”

Then,
Calisto was gone.

“Wine?”
Emma asked.

“It’ll
take the edge off for you,” Affonso said, smiling widely. “As long as you’re a
good girl, Emma, I will always take care of you.”

A
good girl.

Emma
felt sick again.

“And
of course, Cal will always be around to keep an eye on you when I can’t,”
Affonso added. “He’s closer to your age, at twenty-seven. Too bad, really. Had
he wanted what I wanted for him, then I wouldn’t need you at all, Emma.”

What
was that supposed to mean?

“I
prefer Emmy,” she said.

It
was the only thing that came to her mind. She felt stupid for even saying it,
but it was better than spitting out how disgusted the man made her.

“Emmy,”
Affonso echoed. “Sounds a bit girlish and young, doesn’t it?”

Suddenly,
a presence was behind Emma. She knew Calisto was back before he’d even said a
thing.

“Here,”
Calisto said, handing Emma a glass of wine.

Her
fingers brushed his and warmth spread up her arm. She pulled her limb and the
wine glass back as fast as she could, but not before dropping her gaze.

“Thank
you,” she said.

“I
prefer Emmy,” Calisto said quietly.  

Emma’s
head jerked up, finding Calisto watching her curiously.

“Pardon?”
Affonso asked.

“Her
name. Emmy. I like it.”

Emma
tipped her wine glass up and gulped down a mouthful just to keep from smiling.
Who was this man? A few minutes ago, he seemed like he didn’t care who she was
or if she was even breathing.

“It’s
got a nice ring,
zio
,” Calisto added. “Rolls off the tongue, if you know
what I mean.”

Affonso
scowled. “You would think so, Cal. Hurry up with the wine, Emma. We have things
to do and people to see. A good Don doesn’t keep people waiting. You’ve spent
enough time around Maximo to know this.”

Emma
drank her wine a little bit slower.

Emma

“Our
church isn’t quite as big as this one,” Affonso said from beside Emma in the
pew.

Emma
didn’t know how to respond to that. For the last two hours, Affonso had been
dropping hints and information about New York during the drive to the church
and during Mass. He spoke about his two daughters from his dead wife. Michelle
was the youngest at fourteen and Cynthia was the oldest at sixteen. 

Emma
was sure the man had said he had a “handful” of daughters. Apparently, the ones
born from his mistresses weren’t important enough for him to talk about. She
didn’t press him about the children he might have made outside of his first
marriage. Even the two children he did talk about were quickly discussed and
then dropped before he moved onto something else. Emma did learn that the two
girls spent most of their year away at boarding school.

The
two girls would likely hate her.

Jesus.

She
was only four years older than the oldest one.

Holidays
would be awkward, if nothing else.

“I
know your uncle hasn’t attended church since his divorce from his first wife,”
Affonso said.

“He
hasn’t, no,” Emma agreed quietly.

“But
you do, yes?”

“Every
Sunday.”

When
she had been home to go, that was. While she was away at boarding school,
church hadn’t been a very important thing. Emma didn’t add that information in.
It’d been two years since she graduated high school, anyway. She’d messed
around with some college courses but never settled on one particular area of
study.

Now,
she wouldn’t get the chance at all.

“Good.
Then explaining to you why you’ll continue to attend in New York is pointless.
You already know.”

Emma
glanced up at him. “I enjoy church. I think it’s peaceful, in a way.”

Affonso’s
lips flattened into a grim line. “I find it boring, but it’s a necessary evil.
Confession is even worse.”

Maybe
if the man didn’t have a lot to confess, his confessions wouldn’t be so
daunting. It wasn’t Emma’s place to point that out to her future husband, so
she stayed quiet.

“You
won’t have to worry about convincing me to go,” Emma said.

“Wonderful.”

The
progression of Mass continued. Emma, like she usually did on Sundays, watched
her family and the familiar faces surrounding her in other pews. Her gaze
caught the rays of early January sunlight filtering in through the stained
glass windows. Prisms of light danced across the altar, down the aisle, and
over the congregation. Shuffling clothes and the squeak of shoes echoed
throughout the building as the people stood, prayed, and sat back down, over
and over.

It
was familiar.

Almost
comforting.

Peaceful
, Emma repeated
silently.

“How
do you feel about a private lunch after Mass?” Affonso asked.

It
wasn’t really a question.

Emma
smiled falsely. “That would be nice.”

“Your
uncle has some kind of dinner party planned later, as far as I know. The arrangement
for the marriage will be announced then and I will hand over your ring. I’m
sure you’ll like the piece. Your father said you have a taste for anything
that’s princess cut, an interesting color, and more than a couple of carats.
Was he telling me the truth?”

Shame
rested heavily on the back of Emma’s tongue. It tasted a hell of a lot like
disgust and anger. She wasn’t feeling those things for Affonso, but for
herself.

She
hadn’t minded the life of a spoiled mafia
principessa
. Being respected
and adored by
la famiglia,
simply because she was someone’s daughter and
had a good last name had lulled Emma into a false sense of security. Her
sheltered life and foolishness had put her in this position.

A
position where she woke up one day to the rug being ripped out from under her.

Emma
wondered if she deserved this. She had rows and rows of beautiful clothes,
shoes, and bags at home, bought for her by her mother and father. She had
jewelry galore, a penthouse apartment in a Casino hotel, and a Benz with her
name on the license plate.

She
had always been stupid.

Spoiled
into submission.

Tricked
like an idiot.

And
now she was the one being used.

“Emma?”
Affonso asked again.

Drawing
in a slow breath, Emma said, “My father didn’t lie. He’s been spoiling me with
diamonds for years, Affonso.”

Emma
was only now realizing the game her father played.

And
she had lost.

“What’s
wrong,
bella
?”

Emma
blinked down at her hands clasped in her lap. She knew from her earlier
discussion with Affonso that he didn’t like it when others questioned him. He
certainly didn’t seem to like it when a much younger woman, one he essentially
considered to be a child, questioned him.

Even
so, the words still spilled out.

She
couldn’t stop them.

“Is
that what you want?” Emma asked.

“Pardon?”

Emma
caught Affonso’s eye from the side. He was watching her with a hint of
amusement in his otherwise cold gaze, but the ghost of a smile shadowed the
edge of his mouth.

“Am
I what you want, Affonso?”

“I
would say so, considering you’re the woman I chose.”

“A
silly, young wife,” Emma said, not bothering to hide her contempt or
bitterness. “A stupid, spoiled, and easily placated wife. One that will brush
off the awfulness around her when you buy her a new car. One that will overlook
your whores when you fill her closets with new dresses and furs. Am I supposed
to hide the unhappiness with all the jewelry and makeup, too?”

Affonso
smiled slowly. “Well, well.”

Emma
didn’t wish for a second that she could take her words back. She’d meant every
single one of them. Frankly, her father, uncle, and Affonso were lucky that she
had made it to the church without spilling her true feelings.

Up
on the altar, the priest asked the congregation to stand once more for another
song and yet another blessing. Emma stood like she was supposed to. Affonso
quickly followed beside her. She placed her hands on the rounded edge of the
back of the pew in front of her.

One
of Affonso’s hands covered hers.

She
felt the heat of his palm, but it did nothing. The weight of his fingers and
the gold bands he wore rubbed against her skin.

Again,
nothing.

“You’re
exactly what I want,” Affonso murmured.

He
never once took his eyes off the altar.

“I
married for love once. In twenty-five years of marriage, she gave me two
daughters, a well-kept home, and a warm bed. She was neither spoiled, stupid,
nor easily placated, as you said. But like you will, Emma, she learned her
place in the hierarchy of
la famiglia
and took her seat like all good
wives of bosses do. The quicker you take yours, the easier this will all be.”

“I
don’t want to be married,” Emma said, harsher than she first realized.

Affonso
chuckled. “You mean to say that you don’t want to be married to
me
.”

Was
there a fucking difference?

Emma
didn’t see one.

“Nonetheless,
you will be my wife in a month’s time,” Affonso added. “You’ll have another few
weeks here with your family before you fly down to New York, and settle into a
new life with a much better status than you have now.”

“I
don’t care about status.”

But
she had.

Once.

The
truth choked her.

Emma
despised herself for even knowing that at one time, she had soaked in the
attention as a boss’s only niece, reveled in her family’s position, power, and
wealth, and at the same time, ignored what it would mean for her in the end.

Stupid
girl.

“I
wondered how long it would take,” Affonso said, more to himself than her.

Emma
watched him from the corner of her eye, wary and unsettled in her heart. “Take
for what?”

“For
your anger and fight to show. A tiger can’t change or hide its stripes, after
all. Your father and uncle did a damn good job this morning of dressing you up,
prettying your face, and prepping you for the first meeting. But it was when
you were alone and without them that I knew you wouldn’t be able to hold up the
mask. And it’s fine, really. Better for me to see it than them.”

“Why
is that?”

“Because
I know that no matter what you feel or believe, you’re still going to be my wife.
Your father and uncle want you to take the easy road down the altar with no
muss or fuss.”

Emma
swallowed hard. “So?”

“Honestly,
bella
, I don’t give a good goddamn if you fight your way down it.”

Great
.

“I’ve
hired a moving company for your penthouse apartment,” Affonso informed her.

He
had done it at the right time, considering Emma had her mouth full of steak and
couldn’t respond. In just the few hours she had spent with the man, Emma had
quickly learned that Affonso Donati was shady and sly.

It
left behind an icky feeling. Like the man couldn’t be trusted.

Swallowing
the bit of meat, Emma said, “I can take care of packing my own things,
Affonso.”

“Perhaps,
but you won’t be bringing much down to New York at the end of the month. Most
of your things will be given away or donated. I’m sure you have a few
knickknacks or treasures that mean something. You can keep those, of course.
And your clothes, shoes, and whatever else you females enjoy dressing up in. As
long as it’s appropriate, a good name, and stylish enough for the wife of a
boss, then you are more than welcome to pack it up and have it sent to the
mansion. One of the maids will sign for it and I’ll let them know which room to
put it all in. You can go through it again with me when you’re home.”

Emma’s
frustration made her drum her nails on the tabletop. “You’re not staying here?”

Her
words had come out as irritated and sharp as she felt. She wished the
nervousness and unease from earlier in the day would return for long enough for
her to do what she needed until Affonso left Las Vegas.

Then
maybe she could plan.

Something
…  

At
that moment, Emma didn’t know if there was anything she could do to get herself
out of this situation and arranged marriage.

Affonso’s
brow lifted. “No. I’m flying out tomorrow afternoon.”

“Huh.”

“You
don’t look disappointed.”

Emma
didn’t even try to placate or lie to the man. “You’re upending my life. You’re
making rules, taking away my things, and forcing me into compliance because you
know I have nothing to fight against you with. I’ll get a month without you
looking over my shoulder before I have to stare at you every day for the rest
of my life. Do you really think I’m going to be disappointed that you’re
leaving without me?”