Wife (Betrothed 1)

She hated to be alone, couldn’t stand it. She never formally asked me to return to the house, but she made a lot of pointed comments like, “It doesn’t make sense for a pretty girl to live all alone. Are you eating enough? Without a chef, how can you make sure you’re getting what you need?” I knew she didn’t mean any of them. She was just too proud to ask me to come back home.

So I made the sacrifice.

It’d been a month since Gustavo had passed away, and she was quiet most of the time. We had breakfast together on the balcony every morning, talking about the hotel and other nonsense.

Now that Gustavo was gone, I was in charge. I’d learned so much in the past two years that I knew how to keep things flowing smoothly. Maybe my mother would realize that and let it be…but I suspected she wouldn’t. I could tell people were treating me differently—and not in a good way. The board kept asking Hades for direction, and when Hades came by my office, he always communicated with the HR girl to get what he needed.

Cutting me out altogether.

I sat on the terrace with my mother that evening, dining on gnocchi in alfredo sauce while splitting a bottle of white wine. It was a warm day, but not nearly as humid as it’d been for the last couple weeks.

She’d started to eat again, to get back her faded vitality. “I don’t want to get remarried.” She made the statement with a sigh, like I’d provoked her with a question. “Gustavo wasn’t supposed to die so young.”

“Yeah…it’s terrible.” I was patient with my mother as she processed her loss. When she said rude things to me, I let them slide. She and I had our differences, but I loved her and I was there for her. But if I became a mother someday, I’d make sure to be nothing like her.

“I’m too old to start over again. Too old to find a husband.”

“You aren’t that old, Mother. But no, you don’t need to get married again. It’s fine to be on your own.” There was no reason to be scared of independence. Once she had a bit of it, she’d probably enjoy it.

“I’m glad you feel that way. I’ve paid my dues…”

That was a sick attitude to have about it. That it was a sacrifice, an involuntary duty.

She set down her fork and folded her hands under her chin, giving me a pointed stare like she was about to say something. “We can’t survive like this much longer. I’ve married two men I didn’t love for this family. I’ve made enough sacrifices that I’m exonerated from further responsibility. Now it’s your turn.”

“My turn to what?”

“Marry.”

My fork was stabbed into a gnocchi, but I didn’t bring it to my lips. My fingers gripped the metal with frozen stillness.

“We need a powerful man to protect us. At my age, I won’t be able to attract anyone of substance. I was lucky I found Gustavo after your father passed away. I won’t get so lucky a third time. But you…you could have any man you want.”

Why had I expected my mother to drop this? “I’m not marrying. I refuse.”

“You refuse?” she asked, her voice cold and calculating. “How long do you think it’ll be before the mafia runs us out of our own hotel? How long will it be before a powerful man squeezes us out and steals the ground beneath our feet?”

“If you’re so worried about that, you shouldn’t have done business with killers.”

“That was your father’s decision, not mine. Arguing about the past won’t change our present. We both need you to do this to survive.” She dropped her hands and maintained her cold stare. “There’s no other way.”

“I’ve been running the hotel just fine.”

“That’s not what I heard.”

“From whom?” I snapped.

“The board doesn’t respect you. And it won’t be long until the men walk all over you. You’re nothing but a pretty girl with a large inheritance. You’re so inconsequential that people don’t find you the least bit intimidating. I’m not saying this to hurt your feelings. I just want you to understand the situation.”

I let the fork fall onto my plate with a clatter. “You’re being ridiculous.”

“No, I’m not. I’ve lost two husbands, and I don’t want to lose my daughter too.”

“Then let’s sell the hotels. I’d rather lose my inheritance than be forced into marriage.”

“And then what?” she asked. “You think we’ll be safe? We’re still accomplices of the men who use our hotel. If their enemies see us as easy targets, they’ll punish us for sport. And I know you—you won’t walk away from the business. So, either you marry…or we run.”

I shook my head. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”

“I wish I were.”