Sweet Temptation

The four months until November flew by—an endless row of sleepless nights, teary tantrums, and hard workdays.

On the morning of my bachelor night, I squatted in front of Daniele. He was staring down at the iPad, watching a series he liked. His hair was tousled in the front and knotted in the back, but he refused to let Sybil comb it. I hadn’t had the patience to hold him while she did it. We’d have to buzz it short once the wedding was over. “Daniele, I need to talk to you.”

He didn’t look up. I reached for the iPad, but he twisted around. “Give it to me.”

His small shoulders rounded in. It was his only reaction. I grabbed the device and pulled it away. “Soon someone will move in with us. She’ll be your new mom. She’ll take care of you and Simona.”

Daniele’s face scrunched up, and he threw himself at me, pummeling my legs with his little fists. “That’s enough,” I thundered, grabbing his arms.

My anger disappeared seeing tears running down his face. “Daniele.”

I tried to hug him to my chest, but he squirmed away. Eventually, I released him. In the days after Gaia’s death, Daniele had sought my closeness; now he was back to ignoring me. I wasn’t sure what Gaia had told him before her death, but it was clear that it made Daniele resent me.

I put the iPad down in front of him then straightened. Without another word, I left and went upstairs to Simona’s room. The nanny hurried out. In a few days, I’d finally be able to get rid of the nannies, and Giulia would take care of Simona. I bent over the crib. Simona stared up at me and smiled a toothless grin. I gently slipped my palms under her tiny body and lifted her into my arms. Cradling her against my chest, I stroked her dark blond head. Both Daniele and she had inherited their mother’s hair color and eyes. Pressing a kiss to Simona’s forehead, I remembered the first time I did it two days after she was born. Gaia had refused to have me present while she gave birth to our daughter and only allowed me near her on the second day. Anger resurfaced as it always did when I remembered the past. Simona babbled, and I kissed her forehead again. She cried when someone other than my sisters, mother, or I held her. I could only hope she’d quickly grow used to Giulia’s presence.

I put her back down even though her cries tore at my heart. I needed to get ready for a meeting with Luca and then my bachelor night after.

An hour before the official start of my bachelor night, which Faro had organized for me, I met with Luca in my office. He and his wife Aria had arrived a day early so he could see how business was going in Philadelphia. He wouldn’t find reason to worry. I’d forgone sleep to make sure everything worked smoothly in my city. Luca and I settled on the armchairs in my office. I was surprised he’d agreed to come along to my stag party. Since his marriage to Aria, he’d pulled back a bit.

“My aunt went all out with the wedding planning,” Luca said as he lounged in the armchair. “She thought of everything from doves and ice sculptures to silk bed linen.”

White silk bed linen. Linen I was supposed to stain with my young wife’s blood on our wedding night.

I took a sip from my scotch then lowered it. “There won’t be a presentation of the sheets because I won’t be sleeping with Giulia.”

Luca lowered his glass slowly, his gray eyes narrowing. He knew it wasn’t because of Gaia, even if I hadn’t been with another woman since her death. “It’s tradition. It has been for centuries.”

“I know and I honor our traditions, but there won’t be a presentation of sheets this time.” Those words could very well mean my downfall. It wasn’t my choice to ignore our traditions. Only Luca could make that decision, and it was clear he wouldn’t. I’d considered sleeping with Giulia. She was pretty, but I couldn’t get the image of her innocent, wide eyes out of my head or how young she’d looked in her ridiculous clothes without a touch of makeup. The women of my past had been my age—grown women that could take what I gave.

“With your first marriage, you had no trouble following our tradition. It’s not something you can follow as you see fit,” Luca said sharply.

“The last time I married, the woman was close to me in age. I’m almost fourteen years older than my future wife. She called me ‘sir’ the first time she saw me. She’s a girl.”

“She is of age, Cassio. Today is her birthday.”