THE CARUSO DINING ROOM
NADINE
"I heard you missed out on the promotion, sweetheart." My father's voice, smooth and smug, cut through my thoughts.
I looked up and met his eyes. He wore the same pleasant smile he always did, as if nothing ever bothered him. Even pushing sixty, Salvatore Caruso could draw attention from any woman in the room, something I tried hard never to think about, especially with girls my age swooning over him.
I didn't bother asking how he already knew about the promotion. My father was well-connected, and even though he hated my job and seized every opportunity to push me to quit, he kept a constant watch over my life. He always seemed happiest when things didn't go my way—like now.
"Don't despair, Nadina," he said with an exaggerated warmth. "Soon, you'll be married, and none of these things will matter. Your service will be to your husband in the bedroom, giving him heirs."
My hand tightened around my fork, nausea swirling in my gut as he went on.
"You don't have to prove yourself to me. I love you just the way you are."
I snorted under my breath. "You love me because you think you can trade me for a good deal and get grandkids out of it."
He hadn't given me a name or even a picture of the mystery fiancé he'd dangled over my head since I turned twenty. But I could imagine—a man his age, balding, with a stomach hanging over his belt, dentures, and terrible breath.
"I have a fiancé, Father…"
"One I don't approve of," my father cut in, his voice sharp. Something flickered in his eyes. A warning, or maybe just disappointment, but it was gone before I could read it. "The man I've chosen is much more suitable. He'll treat you better."
I forced back a snicker, refusing to look away as he watched me with that cool, expectant stare.
"You always have something to say about my life. Have you ever even asked what I want? Or is it just about what you think is good for me?" My voice was brittle with exhaustion and frustration.
"Watch your tone, Nina." That came from Salvatore Jr., my oldest brother—always quick to back up our father. I'd almost forgotten he was even at the table, sitting quietly with my three other brothers. No one dared interrupt our father when he spoke.
But I'd had enough of quiet. I wasn't the overlooked little girl anymore, the spare to four golden boys.
The liability.
"I'm not marrying one of your friends, Father. I'm twenty-six, and this isn't the nineteenth century, where you get to dictate my life and marriage," I pushed up from my seat, my voice rising across the dining room as I continued. "I didn't work my ass off for you to notice me so that you could turn me into some bargaining chip—"
"Enough now, Nina!" Salvatore Jr. growled, getting to his feet and striding over to me. His fingers clamped tight around my wrist.
I yanked free from him, my gaze fierce on his.
"How would you even know how I feel?" I let out a broken laugh, glancing away from him to the rest of my brothers. They were quiet, their focus on their food as if it were the most interesting thing happening in the Caruso dining room.
Better than their little sister, who was broken and barely pushing on.
"Father is only watching out for you," he said. "I've seen more broken homes these days than I can count, and I am sure father doesn't want the same for you."
"You're not a girl, Salvie, you won't understand my pain," I whispered, sniffing back the tears. "I don't want to be in an arranged marriage. I don't want my father's friend. I can choose for myself. I have someone I love…"
Salvatore opened his mouth to speak, but father cut him off.
"Enough, leave her alone," he said.
Salvatore's jaw clenched, teeth grinding against each other. He glared at me one last time before stalking back to his seat.
I dragged in another steady breath, turning to my father. He wasn't looking at me but at my finger.
"Where is your ring?" His voice was quiet.
That got my brothers' attention, and they now stared at my finger. I had never taken off the ring since Julian gave it to me.
Even though everyone had considered it cheap, I didn't care. It was a symbol of Julian's love for me and I had always used the ring to make my father back off…but now…the pain once again washed over me.
"Did he hurt you?" Giovanni asked, dropping his fork onto his plate. He was three years older than me and the brother, born just before I was.
"That piece of shit," Alessio snarled. "Do you want us to rough him up?"
Salvatore Jnr scoffed, his gaze darkening as it fixed on the boys like they were all crazy for planning something like that in front of our father.
It was moments like this that made me truly like my brothers. Even though they could be a pain in the rear sometimes, they were protective and supportive of me. Just not openly in front of our father, who had always deemed them the reason I was overly rebellious and did as I pleased.
Well, except for Salvatore, who wanted me to be the obedient woman my father expected me to be, doing everything he said.
"Just say the word," Giovanni urged. "And we'll do it."
"I'm ready too," Antonio, Alessio's twin, spoke up for the first time.
It still hurt despite their support. I had been with that bastard for five years, and this was the best thing he could do.
The image of his and Maria's sweaty bodies forced itself back into my head. The sound of skin slapping against skin pierced my ears. Their moans. Their nonchalance.
I gripped the chair in front of me hard as my knees buckled. My heart tightened in my chest, and I felt the first tears threatening to fall.
"Excuse me," I choked out, hurrying toward the door.
I yanked the door open, ignoring my father's call for me. When I reached the comfort of my room, one I had barely used in five years, I slid down the length of the wall.
And for the first time in my life, I allowed myself to feel the pain.
To cry. Against every injustice I'd experienced. Against everything that had been stolen from me.
Against every lie that had been told.
I cried until I couldn't feel the tears anymore. Until I could only stare blankly at the wall, until exhaustion seeped in and weakened my bones.