Chapter Two — The Man She Was Promised
2260 Words
Lucia Santiago had learned three things about her father.
He never made a decision without a reason.
He never explained himself unless it benefited him.
And when he summoned someone into his study, it was never to ask for their opinion.
So when Richard Santiago told her to join him after dinner, Lucia knew the conversation would end badly.
She just didn't know how badly.
The dining room was unusually quiet that evening. Her mother sat at the head of the table beside Richard, dressed in a cream silk blouse and expensive jewelry, looking as though she were attending a charity gala rather than eating dinner with her family.
Sofia sat opposite Lucia, pushing food around her plate.
Nobody mentioned the wedding.
Nobody had to.
The silence had been following Lucia since the moment she returned home.
When dinner ended, Richard wiped his mouth with a napkin and rose from his chair.
“My study. Ten minutes.”
He didn't wait for a response.
Lucia watched him leave.
“Does he ever speak like a normal person?” she muttered.
Sofia nearly choked on her water.
Their mother gave them a sharp look. “Must you always find something to complain about?”
Lucia turned to her. “Must you always pretend nothing is wrong?”
Her mother's expression hardened.
“Your father is doing what he believes is best for this family.”
“Of course he is.”
“Lucia.”
“What? I'm sure marrying me off to a man I've never met is his idea of a loving father.”
“Lower your voice.”
Lucia laughed without humor.
There it was again. Not concern for her. Not outrage over what Richard was doing.
Just a warning to keep the family's problems quiet.
She pushed her chair back.
“Don't worry, Mother. I'll try not to embarrass anyone.”
Then she walked out.
---
Richard's study smelled of leather, polished wood, and the expensive cigars he smoked whenever he was particularly pleased with himself.
Lucia entered to find him standing beside his desk, a glass of whiskey in his hand.
“Close the door.”
She did.
“Sit.”
“I'd rather stand.”
His eyes narrowed, but he let the defiance pass.
“The Moretti family will arrive tomorrow evening. The wedding will take place the following day.”
Lucia stared at him.
“The following day?”
“Yes.”
“You've arranged an entire marriage, and I get forty-eight hours' notice?”
“You have everything you need. A beautiful dress, a respectable ceremony, and a husband whose family can provide security and influence.”
“A husband whose name I barely knew until yesterday.”
“Dante Moretti is not an ordinary man.”
“I gathered that from the armed men outside our gates.”
Richard placed his glass on the desk.
“Then perhaps you understand why this marriage is necessary.”
“No. I understand that you're frightened of something, and you've decided I'm the easiest person to sacrifice.”
The room went still.
Richard's face changed. The polished smile he wore in public disappeared, leaving something colder behind.
“Be very careful with your accusations.”
“Then give me a reason to believe I'm wrong.”
He walked around the desk slowly.
“You have no idea what kind of world you live in, Lucia.”
“I live in your house. That's the problem.”
His hand struck the desk.
“Enough.”
Lucia's heart jumped, but she refused to step back.
For a moment, she thought he might slap her.
Instead, Richard straightened his cuffs.
“If you refuse this marriage, Sofia will take your place.”
Lucia stopped breathing.
“What?”
“You heard me.”
“She has nothing to do with your business.”
“She is my daughter. She has everything to do with it.”
“She's eighteen.”
“And you are twenty. Neither of you is a child anymore.”
Lucia felt anger rise so quickly it almost made her dizzy.
“You wouldn't dare.”
Richard looked at her with an expression that told her he had already considered every possible consequence.
“Test me.”
She stared at the man who had taught her to fear his displeasure long before she understood what fear was.
He had found the one thing she could not gamble with.
Sofia.
Lucia swallowed the words burning in her throat.
“When?”
“Tomorrow evening, you will meet Dante. The day after, you will marry him.”
“And if I agree?”
“Your sister remains uninvolved.”
“And if I don't?”
Richard lifted his glass.
“Then we shall see how useful your defiance really is.”
Lucia left the study without another word.
For the first time in her life, she understood that her father didn't need to lock her in a room to imprison her.
All he needed was someone she loved.
---
The next evening, Lucia stood before the mirror in her bedroom, wearing a black dress her mother had selected.
She had refused the jewelry laid out beside it.
If she was going to meet the man she was being forced to marry, she would at least meet him looking like herself.
A knock sounded.
Sofia entered without waiting.
“You look beautiful.”
“That's unfortunate. I was aiming for terrifying.”
Sofia smiled faintly, then moved closer.
“I'm sorry.”
Lucia turned.
“For what?”
“For being the reason you can't say no.”
The words broke something inside her.
Lucia pulled her sister into a hug.
“You are not the reason. Father is.”
“But you're giving up your life for me.”
“I'm making a choice. Don't let him convince you otherwise.”
Sofia held her tighter.
“What if Dante is cruel?”
Lucia closed her eyes.
“Then he'll discover I'm not as easy to control as Father thinks.”
She hoped it was true.
A few minutes later, a member of the household staff announced that the Morettis had arrived.
Lucia took one final look at herself in the mirror.
Then she went downstairs.
---
The first thing Lucia noticed about Dante Moretti was that nobody seemed comfortable around him.
The second was that he appeared perfectly aware of it.
He stood beside the fireplace in the main reception room, dressed in a dark suit, one hand resting casually in his pocket. He wasn't speaking, yet two men nearby seemed to be waiting for his permission to breathe.
He was taller than she expected. Broad-shouldered, composed, and handsome in a way that would have been easier to appreciate if his eyes didn't look so cold.
When Lucia entered, his gaze moved to her.
He didn't smile.
Neither did she.
Richard approached them with the enthusiasm of a man welcoming a valuable business partner.
“Dante. I'm glad you could come.”
“Mr. Santiago.”
They shook hands.
The gesture looked polite. Their expressions did not.
Richard turned toward Lucia.
“My daughter.”
Dante's eyes returned to her.
“Lucia Santiago.”
“You know my name.”
“I make a point of knowing who I'm dealing with.”
“Am I a person or a business transaction?”
Richard's fingers tightened around his glass.
Dante, however, showed no obvious reaction.
“That depends,” he said. “Are you planning to make this difficult?”
Lucia tilted her head.
“Would that change anything?”
“No.”
“Then why ask?”
For the first time, Dante studied her with something more than detached attention.
“Interesting.”
“I'm relieved. I was worried this evening might be boring.”
“Lucia,” Richard warned.
Dante lifted one hand slightly, stopping him.
“Let her speak.”
The words were quiet, but Richard obeyed.
Lucia noticed.
She also noticed that Dante had not looked away from her once.
“You don't seem particularly pleased about this arrangement,” she said.
“Neither do you.”
“I'm the one being married off to a stranger.”
“And you believe that makes you the only person without a choice?”
Something in his voice made her pause.
It wasn't sympathy. If anything, it sounded like resentment.
Lucia folded her arms.
“Did you choose this marriage?”
Dante took a moment before answering.
“I chose to accept it.”
“That wasn't my question.”
“No,” he said. “It wasn't.”
Before she could press him further, Richard stepped between them with a practiced smile.
“I'm sure you'll have plenty of time to get acquainted after the wedding.”
Lucia's stomach tightened.
Dante finally turned toward Richard.
“I'm sure we will.”
There was something in the way he said it that made Lucia feel as though they were discussing a matter she knew nothing about.
A matter that had already been decided.
---
Dinner was worse.
Richard and Dante discussed business, territory, and mutual interests while Lucia sat beside the man who was supposed to become her husband.
Every now and then, Dante asked her a question.
Not about her favorite books or the places she wanted to visit. He asked whether she drove, whether she had traveled outside Italy, and whether she often left the family estate without informing anyone.
The questions felt less like conversation and more like an assessment.
“Do you always interrogate women over dinner?” Lucia asked.
“Only when I need answers.”
“And what answer are you hoping to find?”
Dante set down his glass.
“Whether you understand what you're marrying into.”
Lucia glanced at the men positioned near the doors.
“I understand that your family doesn't trust mine.”
“Good. You're observant.”
“And I understand that you're not marrying me because you like me.”
His expression remained unchanged.
“Would you prefer a lie?”
“No. I'd prefer the truth.”
For a moment, the conversation around them seemed to fade.
Dante leaned back in his chair.
“The truth is that this marriage serves a purpose.”
“What purpose?”
“That's not a question you need answered tonight.”
Lucia felt a bitter laugh rise in her throat.
“Convenient.”
“Very.”
He returned to his dinner as if the conversation were finished.
Lucia stared at him, wondering what kind of man could discuss marrying someone as casually as he might discuss acquiring a building.
Then she caught something unexpected.
As Richard spoke about the alliance between their families, Dante's fingers tightened around his knife.
Only for a second.
His expression never changed, but his gaze had gone distant.
Lucia wondered what he was remembering.
She wondered why a man who appeared to control everything looked, for that brief moment, as though he were fighting something he could not control at all.
Then he looked at her, and the distance vanished.
“Tomorrow,” he said, “you'll become my wife.”
Lucia held his gaze.
“I'm aware.”
“Once that happens, there will be rules.”
“Then I suggest you write them down. I wouldn't want to forget one.”
His eyes narrowed slightly.
“You think everything is a game.”
“No. I think men like you are used to women being afraid of them.”
“And you aren't?”
Lucia felt the truth rise inside her.
Of course she was afraid.
She was afraid of Richard. Afraid of the Moretti family. Afraid of what she might discover after the wedding.
But she would rather die than give Dante the satisfaction of seeing it.
She leaned forward.
“Not enough to obey you blindly.”
Dante stared at her for a long moment.
Then he rose from his chair.
“Tomorrow, Lucia.”
He left the dining room without another word.
Lucia watched him disappear through the doorway.
She had wanted answers.
Instead, she had discovered that her future husband was a man who knew how to ask questions without answering any of his own.
And somehow, she suspected that was the most dangerous thing about him.
---
Later that night, Lucia passed her father's study on the way back to her bedroom.
The door was slightly open.
She had no intention of listening.
Then she heard Dante's voice.
“Tomorrow, the marriage becomes official. After that, I expect access to everything we discussed.”
Lucia froze.
Richard answered in a low voice.
“You will have your access, provided you remember the terms of our agreement.”
“I remember every term.”
“And your wife?”
A pause.
Then Dante spoke.
“Lucia is not part of the agreement.”
Lucia's breath caught.
Richard gave a humorless laugh.
“You are marrying her. Don't insult me by pretending otherwise.”
“I said what I meant.”
Silence followed.
Lucia stepped back before either man could discover her.
She returned to her bedroom, closed the door, and leaned against it.
Lucia is not part of the agreement.
She should have felt relieved.
Instead, the words left her with a terrible question.
If she wasn't part of the agreement, then what exactly was Dante Moretti marrying her for?
And why did she have the feeling that the answer could destroy both their families?
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