Sweet Temptation

every other aspect of our life. My mind was spinning a hundred miles an hour, imagining our future, imagining tonight.
“Why are you trembling?” Cassio asked, startling me.
I regarded his emotionless eyes. Did he really not know? “Why don’t you order me to stop? Maybe my body obeys your command.”
Cassio’s expression hardened. “I expect you to choose your words more carefully in public. I’m your husband and you’ll respect me.”
I lowered my eyes to his chest, the smile still frozen on my face.
Cassio’s mouth pressed to my ear as the dance ended. “Understood?”
“Understood, sir.”
Cassio’s grip on me tightened, but he didn’t get the chance to say more because it was Dad’s turn to dance with me. He kept asking what was wrong, but I really didn’t see any reason to tell him. There was nothing he could do, nothing he would do. Mom’s lips were moving nonstop during her dance with my husband. From her delighted expression, you’d think she was the happy bride.
“It’s my turn,” Christian said.
My smile became less stiff as my brother took over. He gave me a quick smile as we began to dance. I rarely saw him anymore since he’d moved out five years ago at eighteen. Unlike many sons from Underbosses, he’d chosen not to work under Dad in Baltimore until he inherited the title himself. Christian had wanted to make a name for himself and had gone to work under the Morettis.
“It’s so good to see you,” I said, hugging him tighter.
He gave a terse nod. “It is.”
“You don’t look happy that I’ll live in the same city as you soon.”
Christian shook his head. “Not at this price.”
“You mean me being married to Cassio?”
Christian looked around, but Cassio was dancing with one of his sisters a good distance away. “He’s not the right man for you.”
“Because he’s too old.”
Christian let out a derisive laugh. “That’s only a small part of why.”
“Do you know what happened to Gaia?” I hadn’t seen my brother since I’d found out I’d marry Cassio. Asking that kind of question over the phone was too dangerous. You never knew if the FBI was listening.
“Only Luca, Mansueto, and Cassio know.” He hesitated.
“And?”
“The clean-up crew. Both of them died shortly after in a tragic car accident.”
For a moment I was sure I hadn’t heard him right. My vision was starting to tunnel. “Dad said Cassio didn’t have a hand in his wife’s death.”
Anger flashed across Christian’s face. “Dad needs Cassio’s support to stay in power. Dad’s a weak boss. It’s only a matter of time before others will try to have him removed. With Cassio in the family, people will hesitate. If I already were in power, I wouldn’t have given you to him. I would have controlled our men myself.”
Power plays. It wasn’t something I wanted to be part of, but without my own doing, I’d become the pawn in this deadly game.
“You’ve worked under Cassio the last few years. Is he really that bad?”
Christian’s expression flickered with regret. “I shouldn’t have said anything.”
I dug my fingers into his arm. “Tell me, please. I need to prepare myself.” Though, how could you prepare for that?
“He’s effective and brutal. He doesn’t tolerate disobedience. He’s got his men under control. Few men in our circles are as well respected as him. He’s the best Underboss that the Famiglia has at the moment.” Christian shook his head. “I should talk to him.”
“No,” I whispered, terrified. If what Christian had said was true, Cassio wouldn’t allow my brother to get involved. Christian was a brave man, and he’d be a good Underboss one day, but risking his life for me? I wouldn’t allow it. “Promise, you won’t say anything. Swear it.”
“I want to help you.”
“Then tell me what to do to make this marriage with him work.”
He laughed mirthlessly. “How would I know?” Our dance ended, and he fell silent, his mouth twisting in disgust. “Obey him.”
Despair weighed down on me. Four months ago, my main concern was what kind of Pilates course I’d do and if I’d find time to finish a painting. Today, I had to worry about how to please a husband, who might have killed his wife and probably the men who’d cleaned up the scene afterward.

After the dance with my brother, I wanted nothing more than to find a quiet corner to get a grip, but Cassio’s father limped toward me.
I gave him a smile as my brother slinked away after a curt nod. Mr. Moretti held out his hand. “Will you give this old man the honor of dancing with the bride?”
“Of course, Mr. Moretti,” I said with a small curtsy.
“Mansueto, please. We’re family now.”
I nodded and took his hand, wondering how this was going to work with his cane. He smiled wistfully. “We’ll have to dance in one spot if you’re all right with that, young lady.”
Again, I nodded and stepped a bit closer. He handed his cane to a man I didn’t know and lightly touched my back. Then we began to sway to the music.
“You’re very quiet. From what I hear, you’re not a quiet girl.”
My cheeks heated, wondering who had given him that piece of information. Christian? Definitely not my mother.
Mansueto’s eyes were kind, but like his son, his reputation was chilling. “My son’s reputation makes me proud,” he began as if he could read my mind, which freaked me out. “I know he’ll rule over Philadelphia without trouble, even once I’m gone. But it’s a reputation that might unsettle a young woman, especially as young as yourself.”
I wasn’t sure what to say. I felt like I should contradict him because tradition dictated that I pretend I wasn’t unsettled by my husband, but that would have been a lie, and unfortunately, I was a bad liar, much to Mom’s chagrin.
“My wife and I raised my son to respect women, and from what I know, he does.”
From what I knew, the bets on him killing his wife in a rampant rage