He was tall and thin, with graying brown hair that was combed back the same way as Father’s, but where Father’s was full, Benito’s had thinned and his scalp peeked through. His skin was tanned from too many hours on the tanning bed, and looked almost like leather. He looked old. His dark eyes settled on me and a grin twisted his lips.
Benito’s gaze felt like slugs crawling over my skin, the way they traveled over every inch of my body, already marking me as his. I wanted to wipe it off like slime. My eyes slid over to the girl beside him, barely older than me and with a look of desperate resignation on her face. She wasn’t better off than me. She’d marry my father. Our eyes met. Was there accusation in hers? Maybe she thought I was the reason for the deal between my father and her own. I couldn’t even blame her. Everything about this felt so unfair.
Father motioned for me to come over to them. Even though every fiber of my being was against it, I crept toward them. Fabi was a couple of steps behind me. When I reached Father’s side, he put a hand on my lower back and said with a proud smile, “This is my daughter Liliana.”
Benito inclined his head but his eyes never ceased their staring. He wasn’t doing anything obviously inappropriate but for some reason his gaze felt like it was invading my personal space. “It’s a pleasure to meet you,” he said, then he stepped up to me and kissed my cheeks. I froze but didn’t push him away. Father would probably have killed me if I’d done that.
“And Fabiano,” Benito said, facing my brother, who looked like he tasted something bitter.
Benito waved his daughter forward. “This is Maria.”
Father greeted her with a kiss on the cheek too, and I almost threw up. Maria glanced my way again. She looked so…resigned. But when she faced my father again, she gave him a smile. It looked fake to me but Father seemed satisfied with her reaction. I could practically see his chest swelling with pride.
Father nodded toward the dining room. “Let’s have dinner. It’ll give us the chance to talk.”
Father held out his hand for Maria to take and she did so without hesitation. I knew what was coming, but instead of taking my hand, Benito put his palm on my lower back. I almost flinched away from him but I forced myself to remain still. I couldn’t muster up a smile though.
We walked into the dining room and when I finally sank down on my chair I almost cried from relief of being rid of Benito’s touch. He sat beside me though. Father and Benito were soon immersed in conversation, which left Maria and me to sit in awkward silence. I could hardly ask her anything of importance with our fathers sitting right beside us. I escaped into my mind, but every so often my eyes drifted to the man beside me who smelled of cigar smoke.
All I could think about was that I wanted to be back in New York with Romero.
“Why don’t you girls go sit on the sofa, so we can discuss business?” Father asked, tearing me out of my thoughts.
I rose from my chair and led Maria toward the living area. We sat down beside each other and another awkward silence began. I cleared my throat. “It’s strange, isn’t it, that we’re sitting here with our fathers who are planning our marriages?”
Maria watched me cautiously. “They want what’s best for us.”
I almost snorted. She sounded like a parrot. Had her father put those words into her mouth? “Do you really believe that? You’re going to marry a man who could be your father. How is that the best for you?”
Again her gaze darted toward our fathers. She was very well behaved, that much was sure. What worried me was how she’d gotten that careful. Was her father that strict? Violent maybe?
“I’m going to be the wife of the Consigliere. That’s a good thing.”
I gave up. She obviously wouldn’t talk honestly with me, or she’d been brainwashed so well that she actually meant what she said. “Yes, that’s certainly a great achievement.” I didn’t mean to snap at her but my nerves were too frayed to be considerate. But she didn’t catch my sarcasm. She was too busy chancing looks toward our fathers.
Father stood from his chair. “Why don’t you take a moment to talk to Benito, Liliana? And I’ll talk to Maria.”
That was the last thing I wanted. Benito strode toward me and panic started to set in. Where would we go? I didn’t want to be alone with him. Romero’s words flashed through my mind. I was a reputable Italian girl, at least as far as they knew. Father and Maria sat at the dining table together and Benito took a seat beside me on the sofa. At least I wouldn’t be alone with him.
He even left a space between us but he was still too close for my taste. I could smell the cigars on his clothes and breath, and his knee was only about three inches from my own. I could feel my vision tunneling. God, I wasn’t getting a panic attack because he was sitting beside me, right? What would happen when he really married me? Then he’d do more than only sit beside me. I stared straight ahead, not sure what to do or say. I could feel him watching me.
“You are a very attractive girl,” he said. He took my hand and lifted it to his lips. I couldn’t even react, I was too shocked. When his lips brushed my skin, I wanted to sink into myself. I’d had many men kiss my hand at parties but for some reason, this was worse.
“Thank you,” I choked out.
“Has your father told you the date of our wedding yet?”
There was a date? I’d found out about this only yesterday.
