Married to My Enemy Page 4

  I stared at my reflection in the mirror, almost not recognizing the woman—the simple-minded girl—staring back at me.

  What did you expect from a one-night stand? A voice in my head chastised. How could you? And you’re about to be married! No respectable guy would want a woman who participates in this kind of sordid antics.

  Turning on the faucet to run cold water over my face, I realized just how much of a mistake this night had been after all. My rebellious streak had been nothing but stupidity. And I knew for certain, that the deeds I’d done the previous night had to remain a secret for as long as I lived.

  It was time for me to pack my things, get in the cab, and prepare for the rest of my life without ever looking back at this wild night.

  CHAPTER 8

  Giovanni

  It had only been a day since I’d told my father that I would agree to marry the Marino girl so that we could secure her family’s fortune. What I hadn’t expected though, was for him to put me to the task so quickly. I should have known better though. Luca Romano didn’t play around, and he certainly didn’t waste time because as his favorite motto stated, time is money.

  Still, when he’d called me at the crack of dawn, I had been somewhat taken aback.

  “Dad? What the hell? What time is it?” I’d said groggily as I stumbled out of my bedroom and into the living room, not wanting to wake Ari.

  “Where are you?” he had asked.

  “I’m at my apartment. Why?”

  “Any plans for the day?”

  I’d scratched my head. Although I obviously couldn’t have expected anything serious to develop between Ari and me, I’d had a good time with her and had halfway anticipated at least getting breakfast with her before we went our separate ways. Yet, from the tone of my father’s voice, I could tell that whatever plans I could have possibly had were about to get canceled.

  “No. Why?” I had asked.

  “I’ve set up dinner with the Marino family so that you can meet the girl. No point in prolonging anything. Let’s get this ball rolling.”

  “I—what? Today…Already?”

  “Time is money, son.”

  “Yeah, I just thought…I don’t know. Feels kind of rushed. The Marino family agreed? Do they know the intentions?”

  “Of course, they do. They’re very old-fashioned. They’ve had their daughter saving herself for these purposes precisely. Her marriage was always meant to be arranged. And I’ve let it be known right from the start that I had an attractive, young, eligible son that would be a good match for her. When I last talked to Mr. Marino, he said that it was time for his daughter to be getting married. She’s twenty-six, and they want her married and having her children before thirty.”

  I’d pinched the bridge of my nose. “Dad, what are you telling me? These people have already arranged for their daughter to marry me without even knowing me?”

  “Thanks to this dinner, they’ll know you well enough by the end of the day.”

  “Jesus…”

  “Whatever. You just get yourself together, make yourself presentable, and come to the house this afternoon.”

  “This afternoon? Is dinner going to be that early?”

  “No, but your mother needs help getting the house together.”

  “Oh—so I’m the help and the husband being auctioned off? Why do I have to clean the house? Where’s—”

  “Enough,” Dad had said, cutting me off. “Your brothers have business to attend to beforehand, and your mother wants to spend some time with you. So just be there, all right? Whatever you have to do, get to it this morning and then head on over. And do something decent for your future wife. Be a gentleman. Go find her some nice jewelry or flowers or something.”

  I’d scratched my head again. “Yeah, yeah. All right.”

  “You can sound a little more enthused. After all, you agreed to go through with this. For our family’s sake.”

  “I know, Dad. I’m sorry. I’m just tired. I…had a long night. I’ll be over to help Mom in a little while. And I’ll be on my best behavior tonight.”

  “Good. And do something decent with your hair. Like, get a haircut.” With that, Dad had hung up the phone.

  I had desperately wanted to be more considerate of Ari’s feelings that morning, for I hadn’t wanted it to seem like I was rushing her out of my apartment. Although I thought it was understood on both ends that what had happened between us was never meant to be anything more than a one-night stand, I still hated taking the ‘wham, bam, thank-you-ma’am’ approach. Under normal circumstances, I would have treated her to breakfast and given her a ride home. But that, unfortunately, couldn’t be the case when I was scheduled to meet my future wife later in the day and had to help my mother prepare the house.

  Ari had been so adorable that morning, even having the nerve to be embarrassed about me seeing her naked in the daylight. The former innocence I had seen in her upon meeting her had returned, and I suddenly wanted to kick myself for having agreed to sell myself off to the Marino girl so quickly. Something told me that Ari was the kind of girl it would have been nice to keep around and call every once-in-a-while. Shamefully, I contemplated exchanging numbers with her, wondering if I could carry on such an arrangement despite my pending nuptials, but I refrained.

  What kind of husband was I going to make if I was already entertaining ideas about cheating on my future wife?

  So, I stuck to my guns, called Ari a cab, went out to find a big and beautiful flower arrangement to give to the Marino daughter, and reported to my mother’s house as requested.

  I stepped through the front door of the home I’d grown up in, almost struggling to get the bouquet of flowers through.

  “Hey, Ma!” I called out, but she couldn’t hear me over the vacuum cleaner running. I walked further into the house, passed the foyer and down the hallway adorned with childhood photos of my brothers and me.

  When I got to the living room area, I saw my mother, busy pushing the vacuum cleaner across the plush tan carpeting. I walked up behind her and placed my hand on her back.

  She glanced at me over her shoulder. “Good, you’re here. Go start on the dishes. Set those flowers on the dining room table.”

  “Nice to see you too, Ma.”

  “Thanks, darling.”

  * * *

  By the time evening set in, I felt like the male Cinderella with all the cleaning I’d done. I was pretty sure the Marino family weren’t going to inspect the entire house, but my mother had been adamant that every corner of it be perfect and dust-free. I suppose the only consolation was that dinner was being catered in, so I at least didn’t have to help her cook anything, which I was incredibly grateful for, considering I’d been forced to endure her lectures all morning about what would be expected of me as a decent husband.

  At about five o’clock, my mother began setting the table. “You go get changed,” she said to me, affectionately slapping the side of my face.

  Once I was changed and groomed, I wore a pair of black slacks, a blazer with a crisp white shirt underneath, and tied my hair back into a smooth, bun. I shaved and dabbled on just the right amount of cologne. And then I stared at my reflection for a long time.

  “Well—looks like your days of bachelorhood may soon be over, Gio,” I said to my reflection and sighed. And then I ventured back downstairs, the superficial part of me hoping that the Marino girl was at least attractive. That would make this whole ordeal a little easier. Otherwise—it may very well be the first time I resented my loyalty to my own family.

  When I got to the bottom of the stairs, I heard my father’s voice. He’d been in the middle of saying something to my mother when he noticed me approaching.

  His eyes widened as he took in my appearance. “You sure can clean up nicely when you want to. Too bad your hair is still too long though.”

  Mom approached me and smoothed the collar of my shirt. “Don’t listen to your father, dear. You look very handsome. Young Miss Marino is goi
ng to be a lucky girl.”

  “Let’s just hope that I’m just as lucky,” I said.

  Dad chuckled. “Oh, you are. I think you’ll be happy with this arrangement.”

  I pursed my lips, not entirely sure if I trusted my father’s statement. He just wanted to secure our family ties with the Marino fortune; whether I and the Marino girl were actually compatible was something I doubted he cared much about.

  “So, where are my dear brothers?” I asked, leaning against the dining room wall and folding my arms.

  “They’re not coming,” Dad answered.

  “What?” I said, unfolding my arms. “Why not?”

  “Because she only needs to meet you for now. She doesn’t need to be overwhelmed with the whole family. You and your brothers are too much for strangers to take in all at once.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “We just don’t want to overwhelm her, that’s all,” Mom interjected.

  I raised an eyebrow. “Or you don’t want me to have competition with my brothers? Afraid that she’ll like them better?”

  Mom slapped my arm. “Nonsense.”

  “I think I hear a car door slamming,” Dad said, heading to the front of the house. He stopped abruptly and looked back, fixing me with his sternest gaze. I’d seen that gaze plenty of times before in my life. It was the gaze that could freeze boiling water. It was the stare that indicated playtime was over. “Gio, I cannot put into words how important this dinner is. This needs to go well. Understand?”

  I nodded, not daring to make a smart retort. “Yes, Dad,” I said, feeling as if I was twelve years old again.

  With a curt nod, he turned back around and disappeared from view right as the doorbell rang.

  Standing at the dining room table, I gripped the chair before me, my heart pounding.

  “It’s going to be fine, Gio,” my mother said, rubbing my shoulder as voices drifted through the house from the foyer. Our guests had arrived. It was time to meet my future wife.

  Suddenly, at the most inopportune time, images of Ari popped into my head. I clenched my jaw, willing away the memory of her.

  “Gio, sweetie,” Mom said, her voice a hasty whisper. “Come on, now. Get it together.”

  It was at that moment that I knew I must have looked just as panic-stricken as I felt. “Sorry,” I said. “It’s just…How do you respond to the fact that your future is literally walking through the door? What if she’s…What if I just don’t like her?”

  “Hush!” Mom hissed, peering anxiously toward the front of the house. “Listen—go in the kitchen and get some water for the flowers. Go on! And when you come back out, you have to be over this little crisis you’re going through. Got it?”

  I nodded and hurried off to the kitchen, almost breaking into a run as I heard footsteps drifting through the house. How I wished my brothers were here—nothing ever felt quite so serious when they were around. They would have at least helped distract me from the fact that I was about to give up my whole future for some woman that I didn’t even know.

  As I pulled a pitcher from the kitchen cabinet, I heard my mother’s overly cheerful voice greeting our guests. They were just yards away. Mr. and Mrs. Marino—and their daughter, who if all went according to plan, would become the new Mrs. Romano…

  I swallowed, gripping the pitcher so tightly, my hands ached.

  Time was ticking, and the moment of truth had arrived.

  I couldn’t stall in the kitchen forever.

  So, taking a deep breath, I straightened my posture and headed out of the kitchen.

  “There he is,” my father said jovially while simultaneously flashing me with his stern gaze before covering it with a broad smile.

  My heart practically stopped in my chest, and the pitcher almost slipped from my hand.

  “Giovanni, this is Mr. and Mrs. Marino,” Dad said. “And this is their daughter, Arianna.”

  Arianna Marino.

  Ari.

  The woman from last night.

  Oh fuck.

  CHAPTER 9

  Arianna

  My heart sank somewhere down to my toes.

  I couldn’t believe it.

  It was him.

  Of all people, it was him…

  Ever since I was a little girl, I had imagined a million times what this moment would be like. I had always hoped that whoever my parents chose for me would be handsome and charming with a heart of gold. Every now and then, I would have nightmares about being matched with someone completely unacceptable, but I always brushed those worries aside, trusting my parents loved me enough to find me a suitable mate.

  Had I not gone on my rebellious adventure the previous night, I would have been completely oblivious to the fact that the guy standing before me was an inconsiderate playboy who obviously wouldn’t make a suitable husband.

  My eyes stung with tears that I prayed wouldn’t fall, and I struggled to breathe around the lump that had formed in my throat.

  At this moment, I felt that literally anyone—anyone—would have been better than him.

  Images from the previous night forcibly returned to my mind. Initially, he had seemed like a decent guy. That’s what had brought about such a wild streak within me, to begin with. He had been so handsome and charming—and the way he had saved me from that creep harassing me at the nightclub, I’d been under the impression that he did have a heart of gold. Mere hours ago, I would have assumed Giovanni Romano was precisely the kind of guy I would have hoped to get matched up with.

  But that was before learning the truth—that Gio was just as much of a creep, and his only intention last night had been to get in my pants. Very literally, the instant he was done with me, he had practically kicked me out of his apartment.

  Never in my life had I felt so used. So, cheap. So, dirty. Although I hadn’t expected anything special to continue between us, I had expected him to at least treat me with some decency. My blood boiled, recalling how he had laughed at me, threw my clothes at me, and urged me to get a cab and let myself out of his apartment—to get out of his life.

  Now we were expected to become a permanent part of each other’s lives. I never knew fate could be so cruel.

  “Arianna, honey? Are you all right?” my mother said.

  I snapped back to my senses, realizing that everyone was looking at me. I cleared my throat and attempted to force a smile, even though my mouth so desperately wanted to curve downward into a grimace. “I’m fine,” I said, hoping no one noted how high and strained my voice sounded.

  Giovanni stared into my eyes, so many unspoken thoughts darting between us. His movements were hesitant as he stepped forward, approaching me. I could tell that he too, was trying his best to pretend that everything was fine. To pretend that I wasn’t the woman he had so rudely kicked to the curb just hours ago. Beneath the calm expression, he was keeping on his face, I could see that he was practically looking at me as if seeing a ghost.

  He extended his hand to me, and I forced myself to accept it. “Nice to meet you, Arianna,” he said, his voice deceptively smooth. He then brought my hand to his lips and kissed it. I fought hard not to snatch my hand away.

  Meanwhile, our parents stood around us, beaming and clearly under the impression that we were off to a good start.

  If they only knew…

  When Gio released my hand, I was tempted to rub it against my skirt to wipe away his kiss, but I refrained. I had to be on my best behavior, so as not to embarrass my parents.

  It was going to be a long evening.

  Mrs. Romano smiled politely. “Well, I hope you all are hungry.”

  “We certainly are,” my mother said.

  “Please, take a seat then,” Mrs. Romano said, leading us to the dining room table.

  The table was set beautifully, and the house was spotless. Already, I could tell that Mrs. Romano seemed like a sweet woman who was determined to leave a good first impression on me and my parents. I knew she couldn’t have possib
ly known how much of a jerk her son was, and what she was signing me up for.

  “Let me help you set the table,” my mother offered.

  “I can help too,” I chimed in, wanting an excuse to limit my time in Gio’s presence. I hoped we would eat fast, and leave.

  “No, that’s all right, dear,” Mrs. Romano said. “You’re the guest of honor. Please, take a seat and make yourself at home.”

  I swallowed and once again, tried not to cry as I watched my mother head to the kitchen with my future mother-in-law.

  “Arianna.” I turned around to see Giovanni standing behind me with an exceptionally large and beautiful bouquet of flowers. “These are for you,” he said, though not quite meeting my eyes.

  “Thank you,” I said, without making any motion to take them.

  Giovanni pursed his lips together. “I’ll just set these in the living room then, so you can grab them on the way out.”

  I nodded. “Okay.”

  He headed down the hall and out of sight. When I turned back around, his father and my father were both staring at me. I fidgeted slightly under their gaze.

  Mr. Romano smiled. “Let’s have a seat, shall we?”

  I stared at the table, hesitating to figure out where to sit. Mr. Romano moved toward the head of the table, while my dad took the corner seat beside him. Just as I was about to move toward the other side of my father, Mr. Romano pulled out a chair for me beside him.

  “Thank you,” I said, feeling as if I had no choice but to accept the seat.

  “No problem, dear.”

  Shortly after that, Gio returned. And to my horror, he sat down beside me.

  Trapped between my so-called future husband and father-in-law, I felt smothered already.

  Moments later, my mother and Mrs. Romano returned, carrying dishes of food to the table.

  “So, Arianna—I understand that you’re a teacher?” Mr. Romano said.

  I smiled politely. “Yes, sir. I teach second grade.”