We clinked glasses and downed our drinks then I left, having more pressing business to attend to now that the problem of my marriage was settled.

The wedding wasn’t as splendid as could be expected from a man in my position but it was bigger than I would have liked.

Valentina was a beautiful bride, elegant sophistication in her cream-colored dress. My attention should have been on her—only her—from the moment she set foot inside the church, even more so when she arrived at my side and her father handed her over to me.

And yet, I struggled to stay in the present, to not be taken back many years to another wedding ceremony, to another woman. The woman who still haunted my nights with her sorrow-filled eyes.

When it was time for our kiss, my insides tightened. I hadn’t kissed a woman since Carla’s death. It was too intimate a gesture, too emotional. But Valentina was my wife and everyone expected us to share a kiss.

I didn’t show my conflict, didn’t allow a moment of hesitation, as I lowered my mouth to Valentina’s waiting lips. The reluctance I’d expected at this intimate contact didn’t come, the guilt, however, crashed down on me like an avalanche. I pulled back, catching Valentina’s searching expression, and turned to the guests. Valentina thought our marriage would allow her to pry behind my walls—she’d soon be disillusioned.

The wedding was a string of meaningless conversations, stilted smiles and congratulations I could hardly accept. Dancing was only marginally better.

I released Aria after our obligatory dance and she quickly returned to Luca’s side while I left the dance floor to clear my head for a bit. Orazio stood off to the side by himself and I headed his way. He stood a bit straighter as he noticed my approach. “Dante,” he said, his eyes wary. Our relationship had always been distant, and I doubted it would change now.

“Have you and your father settled your dispute?”

“It can hardly be called a dispute. He told me his opinion and expects me to follow his command.”

I nodded. “Our world is dominated by old rules that can’t be overrun easily. Often it feels like there’s only duty and little choice.”

Orazio’s mouth tightened. “I know. Duty is a word I’m all too familiar with.”

I searched his eyes. “Giving up someone we care about is never easy, but a marriage of convenience can be mutually beneficial.” Even to my own ears the words sounded hollow. My eyes followed Matteo as he bowed in front of Valentina and pulled her close against him. Anger surged through me at his open lack of respect.

“Is that what Valentina is to you—convenient?”

I slanted Orazio a sharp look. “I won’t discuss my marriage with you. Nor will I get involved in your matters.”

Orazio looked away. “If you’d talk to my father, he may see reason.”

“I can’t get involved in family matters. Your father has always been a loyal man.”

Valentina’s laughter carried through the room.

My gaze found her as she smiled broadly over something Matteo must have said.

“Excuse me,” I told Orazio, who merely nodded, and made my way over to Valentina and Matteo. For some unexplainable reason, it didn’t sit well with me that Valentina seemed completely at ease with Matteo. His charm was notorious.

“I think it’s my turn again,” I said as I reached them, my voice clipped.

Matteo’s mouth twitched. “Of course. Who could stay away from such dark beauty for long?” Then he kissed Valentina’s hand in a way that made my blood boil. The open provocation spoke to the dark fury that had lain dormant beneath a thin layer of control all day. Valentina gripped my hand before I could decide if killing Matteo would give me the necessary satisfaction to warrant war with the Famiglia. Aria was clever enough to drag Matteo away.

“I thought you wanted to dance with me?” Valentina’s words interrupted my thoughts.

I pulled her against me and began to lead her over the dance floor, even if the soft music didn’t compliment my pounding pulse.

“What did he say?” I asked.

“Hm?”

“What made you laugh?”

“He made a joke about bushes.”

A hint of embarrassment flickered across Valentina’s face.

“He should be more careful.”

“I think he’s a bit tense because of the problems between Gianna and him.”

“From what I hear, he’s always been volatile, even before his engagement to the Scuderi girl.”

“Not everyone is as controlled as you are.”

If she knew how little I wanted to control myself tonight, she wouldn’t have said that.

I was relieved when the celebrations afterward came to an end and Valentina and I sat in the quiet of my Mercedes on our way to my mansion. I couldn’t shake the feeling that I’d betrayed Carla today, my promise to her, our love, the memory that kept me from losing myself to the darkness completely, but I hoped that at least from the outside I looked composed, in control. But I was sick of being in control, tired of holding onto an appearance of cold when I wanted to rage and destroy.

Many months had passed since I’d last visited the Palermo, last released at least part of the pent-up fury. One would think that my life provided enough opportunity to relieve some tension and I had certainly made sure to take part in more attacks than in the previous years but it didn’t seem enough. Instead of calming the raging fury and sadness in my veins, every act of violence seemed to kindle a new, a hotter fire in my chest. Valentina slanted me a look, perhaps bothered by our lack of conversation but I couldn’t provide her with small talk, not right now.

I was trying to honor her as my wife but that required that I didn’t lose control and as it was my composure was hanging at a threat. All through the evening, I’d battled with myself. I was angry at the situation, at everything, even at Valentina, which was unreasonable since this marriage hadn’t even been her idea. I prided myself on my logical qualities but right now, emotions overruled all else and threatened to pull me and the image I’d built apart at the seams.

I tightened my hold on the steering wheel as I pulled the car up to the mansion that had been Carla’s and my home for almost twelve years, and would now become Valentina’s home too. Even that felt like a sacrilege. Valentina gave me another curious look, but I wouldn’t let her glimpse behind the mask. I led her into the house then up the stairs toward our bedroom.

My eyes found Valentina’s cleavage, her enticing curves. Maybe I could get rid of some of the tension coiling in my body. Ever since Matteo’s dance with her and the appreciative glances other men had thrown her way, I’d felt the depraved need to stake my claim. I’d never been the primal type, never acted on my base needs, but I had been a different man back then, or maybe not different, but my dark nature hadn’t been as in control. With Carla, I had been restrained, never felt the desire for angry sex with her. She had been the calm in my life, the one who spoke to the good in me, to a part of me I wished was more prominent but would never be.

I opened the door to the master bedroom and motioned for Valentina to go in, which she did with another searching look at me. My eyes followed the curve of her back to her ass that the dress accentuated in a very pleasing way as I stepped inside and closed the door. I’d moved into the bedroom days after Carla’s death, unable to sleep in the room I’d spent almost every night with her. I shoved the memories aside, forced down the wave of emotions they evoked, and focused on a safer notion: my desire for my wife.