Broken Promise by M. James
Sofia
The “party” for Caterina isn’t anything like what we would have done under normal circumstances. Especially with Ana along—I can only imagine the kind of places she would have dragged us to. But Luca asked me to make a list of things I’d want to have for it, and I’d done exactly that. Still a little caught off guard by how nice he’s been.
That night at the dinner table was the first time we’ve ever argued and not ended up with one of us storming off or making out violently. It didn’t end with me bent over a couch or tied up in bed while he showed me who, exactly, is in control.
It ended, shockingly, with him conceding something to me. Something I’d wanted since the morning we came back from the hospital and hadn’t thought I’d get back—being able to stay in my own room.
But it hadn’t made me as happy as I’d thought it would. I’d felt almost lonely last night, without Luca’s soft snores in the dark or the scent of his cologne on the covers, or the heat of his body warming the sheets even from all the way on the other side of his massive California king. The fact that he’d given in hadn’t felt like a victory. It had felt like—
Like he hadn’t really wanted me in there at all. Like he’d only ever forced it to make me do something that he knew I didn’t want.
And now that he’s gone back on it, it feels as if he doesn’t want me.
It’s stupid. I know it’s stupid. I got what I wanted, and yet I’m still as confused and unhappy as ever. So instead of focusing on that, I think about how I’m going to have two more full days without Luca here, days to hopefully clear my head, and even better—days that I’ll get to spend with my friends. It won’t feel lonely in the penthouse with Caterina and Ana here. And hopefully, we’ll be able to cheer Caterina up, at least a little.
She shows up about an hour after Luca leaves, striped weekender bag in hand, and the first smile I’ve seen on her face since before the explosion. “This is really sweet of you,” she says as she sets the bag down, leaning forward to give me a hug.
“Are you kidding me? This place is huge; I feel like I get lost in it every day that I’m here by myself. It’ll be nice to have you and Ana here for the weekend.”
“When is she getting here?”
“Probably in a few hours.” I glance over as Gio, one of the two bodyguards Luca left, crosses through the room towards the kitchen. “I don’t know how I’m going to get used to having them here.”
“They’ll blend in soon. I remember having a bodyguard around the house off and on when I was a child, after what happened to your and Luca’s fathers. After a while, I didn’t even notice anymore.”
“I hope so.” I force a smile, trying to shake off any hint of a bad mood. “Luca asked me what I’d want to have here for your party. So we have plenty of wine, cupcakes, and he left instructions with Carmen for you to order whatever you want for dinner. We’re going to have a good time tonight, no matter what. We have the whole place to ourselves, and we’ll be safe. There’s so much security in this building I don’t know if a spider could crawl by without them seeing it.”
“Well, that’s a good thing,” Caterina says with a laugh. “I hate spiders.”
Sometime around nine, Ana finally shows up. After a back-and-forth about what to do, we find ourselves on the rooftop by the pool under the stars, with Ana making frozen daiquiris at the bar and pizza boxes scattered around.
“Oh my god.” Caterina practically moans as she takes a bite out of a sausage-and-cheese slice. “I can’t remember the last time I had pizza. I’ve been extra strict about my diet for the wedding, and I just—mm.” She takes another bite, folding half the piece into her mouth, and I cover my mouth with my hand to keep from laughing out loud.
“What?” She grins at me, wiping sauce away from her cheek with a napkin. “Have you never seen someone eat pizza before?”
“I’ve never seen you eat pizza before. You’re always so elegant. I never thought I’d see the day when you’d stuff half a slice into your mouth in one bite.”
“Well, there’s no one else here besides you two to see, so I can do what I want.” Caterina laughs, laying back on the lounge chair and swallowing the last bite of her pizza. “It’s actually really freeing.”
Just that sentence gives me a glimpse into how strict her life must have been all these years. “What about college?” I ask curiously. “Didn’t you get to cut loose and have some fun then?”
Caterina snorts. “Hardly. I had to keep living with my parents, and I had a strict curfew. I was lucky they let me go at all. Nowadays, there’s no stigma among the younger mafia men about a wife with an education. But I wasn’t allowed to have many friends, or go out to parties, or do anything really except go to class and come home. They were too worried that I might ‘slip up.’”
“And do what, exactly?” Ana walks towards us with three strawberry daiquiris and hands them out, perching on the edge of her own chair as she takes a sip.
“Sleep with someone,” Caterina says flatly. “My virginity is quite the commodity. My parents made sure to protect it just as fiercely as any other part of the family business.”
Ana makes a face. “Wait, so you’re a virgin, too? God, I feel like a slut hanging out with you two.”
“I am.” Caterina laughs. “Sofia isn’t anymore.”
“Barely,” I mutter. “But I wasn’t being made to stay that way. I just never dated.”
“At least you both got super-hot husbands to be your firsts,” Ana says, leaning forward. “Are you nervous?”
“A little,” Caterina admits. “Franco is like all the other younger men—and honestly, some of the older ones, too. He sleeps around constantly, from what I’ve heard. I don’t want him to not be happy on our wedding night.”
“So wait—you haven’t done anything? At all?” Ana frowns. “You’ve kissed him, right?”
“Of course!” Caterina blushes. “I’ve—we’ve—well, we’ve done a little bit. I—” she chews on her lower lip, suddenly turning brighter red than I’ve ever seen her. “I went down on him in the limo after he proposed to me.”
“I would too! Look at that fucking ring!” Ana crows, laughing. “Come on, Sofia, chime in here. Give the poor girl some advice, one virginal bride to another.”
“I don’t think I have very much advice to give,” I admit. “I’m basically clueless.”
“You and Luca—you did sleep together, right?” Caterina frowns. “We saw the bed the morning after.”
Ana makes a gagging noise. “They seriously checked your fucking sheets? What is this, the fourteenth century?”
Caterina shrugs. “We’re all disgusted by it. My mother tried to talk my father out of doing it for Sofia. But he insisted. He’s very traditional.” A flicker of sadness crosses her face, probably at the mention of her mother, but it’s fleeting. I can tell that she’s trying to stay in a good mood.
“Luca won’t keep up that tradition, I’m sure.” I take a sip of my drink, trying not to think about the last night I was up here on the rooftop drinking and what that led to.
“Don’t be surprised if he does. He’s inherited a position and everything that goes along with it. I don’t know if he’ll be quick to make changes, especially while my father is still alive.” Caterina pauses. “But—you did sleep together, right? I mean, I can understand if you faked it, but—”
“No, we did,” I say quickly. “I just—”
“It wasn’t good?” Ana raises an eyebrow. “Guys as hot as Luca do tend to be shit in bed. They’re so gorgeous they don’t even have to try. Girls fake an orgasm just in hopes of getting to date them for a while, and then they think they’re gods.” She rolls her eyes.
“No, I mean—”
“Did you come?” Ana leans forward, her eyes glinting with mischief. “Come on, Sofia, we’re having a girls’ night. Spill a little.”
I think of the night a week ago, of Luca’s hard cock rubbing against my clit, his tongue on me, the way I begged him to let me come until he finally relented. The way I shamelessly got myself off in front of him, not even caring any longer that he was watching.
And then the way he rejected me afterward.
I can feel myself flushing bright red, and I’m glad that it’s nighttime, so at least it’s less obvious, even with the lights on the rooftop. “No,” I say quietly. “I didn’t. It wasn’t bad, I guess. I just—told him to get it over with.”
“You what?” Caterina sits up. “He didn’t force you, did he?”
“I mean—” I let out a sigh. “You guys know this whole thing was arranged for me from the start. I didn’t want any of it. And I didn’t want to sleep with him.”
“You don’t think he’s attractive?” Caterina frowns.
“No—” If only. This would all be so much easier if Luca were ugly or if I just simply weren’t attracted to him at all. But how could anyone not be? He’s like something out of anyone’s fantasy—muscular, dark-haired and dark-eyed, tall, dark and handsome in every sense of the word. He’s gorgeous, and I can’t think how any woman wouldn’t want him.
“I just—I didn’t choose any of this. I didn’t want to marry him. We’ve never even been on a date.”
“I didn’t choose Franco either.” Caterina shrugs. “But even though I’m nervous, I’m excited about our wedding night too. He’s handsome. Hopefully, he’s a good lover. I don’t see any reason to be upset about it. It could have been so much worse.”
“Make sure he goes down on you,” Ana says with a laugh. “Especially since you’ve already done it to him. He better give as good as he gets.”
Caterina blushes red at that, but I’m still struggling with what she just said. Am I really so wrong to resist Luca when I didn’t ask for this marriage? Am I being ungrateful?
“I just don’t see why I should willingly sleep with him,” I insist. “I did it on our wedding night because I had to. But just because this is the way it is for women who are born into and marry into the mafia doesn’t mean that it’s what I want for me.”
“If you don’t want to, then you shouldn’t,” Ana says firmly. “You should never feel forced.”
“I—well, I mean, I—” I stumble over my words, not knowing how to explain myself.
Caterina glances over at me. “You do want to, don’t you? You just feel like you shouldn’t.”
She’s hit the nail so directly on the head that I don’t even know what to say. That’s it, of course, and I’ve known it for a while now. If I’m being honest with myself, I’ve lusted after Luca since the night he pinned me up against his front door.
But I feel like he’s someone I shouldn’t want. Shouldn’t be married to. I’m afraid of what will happen if I let myself fall under his spell.
“He’s not the kind of man I would have ever dated, much less married. I would have been too intimidated to even talk to him. And—he’s cold. Cruel, even.”
“To you?” Ana frowns. “Has he hurt you?”
“No! I mean, he’s kind of a dick sometimes, but—” I try to think of how to explain it. “He feels distant. Unreachable. Like there’s this whole other side to him I can’t possibly understand.”
“Sofia, these men are different. Men like Luca and Franco—they’re conditioned to see wives and children as just another asset or liability on a balance sheet. Something to consider in terms of its value. My father was always like that. He would have taught Luca to be the same, and I’m sure Luca’s father did that too.”
“I don’t remember my father ever treating my mother like that,” I say quietly. “He loved her. I know he did.”
Caterina is quiet for a moment. “I don’t remember much about your father, Sofia. But I think I remember him coming over for dinner occasionally when I was younger. He would talk about a daughter, and I always asked if I could meet her, and my father would always tell me to be quiet. But yours was always kind. Soft-spoken. I can see how having him in your life would have raised you to expect more from men.”
I feel tears burning behind my eyelids, and I do my best to force them back. The last thing I want to do is break down on a night that’s supposed to be happy. It’s meant to be Caterina’s night, and it’s the first time I’ve seen Ana in weeks. If Caterina can be cheerful after losing her mother a week ago, then I can manage not to cry over the mention of my father, who has been dead for nearly ten years now.
“Luca makes me feel confused,” I admit. “I do want him. I’ve never felt this kind of attraction to a man before, ever. But I can’t help thinking that it’s just physical because he’s so handsome. That I can’t possibly love someone like him.”
“What do you mean?” Ana asks curiously. “What is it about him?”
“He’s the don now.” I stare at her. “And before that, he was Rossi’s underboss. He’s killed men. Probably tortured them, done all kinds of awful things to them—and for what? So he can sell drugs, or guns, or whatever businesses he gets all this money from? How am I supposed to love a man like that? Someone who could hurt someone else just for, for—”
“It’s not about the things,” Caterina says quietly. “It’s about loyalty, about trust, about not going back on your word. All of these men do terrible things, but they all have a code. And if Luca hurts someone, it’s to keep them from hurting others he cares about. It’s not about whatever merchandise they’re moving. It’s about making sure that betrayal is unacceptable. That all the men around him are loyal. And that the other mobs stick to the agreements that the leaders have made.”
I frown at her. “How do you know all of this?”
“I listen.” She shrugs. “My father isn’t always quiet when he has meetings at the house. And I’ve heard him talk about Luca before. Luca is restrained when it comes to those things. He’s never more violent than he needs to be. He doesn’t enjoy it.”
“And what about Franco?”
Caterina is quiet for a long moment. “I don’t know about him—how he feels about all of that. We’ve never talked about it.”
I remember, suddenly, what Luca said at dinner that night. That he’d always protected Franco, done the worst of the things that needed doing so that Franco wouldn’t have to. So that Franco wouldn’t have to deal with the demons that came with it.
I hadn’t paid much attention to what he was saying then. But it occurs to me that it shows a side of Luca I hadn’t seen before. The kind of man he is beyond our interactions.
The kind of man who would do awful things, get blood on his hands that he can’t wash off, to spare his friend. The kind of man who shielded a childhood friend from gossip and then kept on protecting him.
The kind of man who is struggling now, knowing that he can’t protect his friend any longer—and that maybe he protected him for too long.
“Luca mentioned to me that he’s kept Franco from having to get his hands dirty too often.” I glance at Caterina. “I think he’s been trying to protect him from some of those realities.”
“They’ve been joined at the hip since they were kids.” Caterina rubs her hands along her thighs, letting out a long breath. “There were always rumors that Franco’s father was Irish. His mother got pregnant not long after the head of the Irish mob in Boston came to visit, and with Franco’s red hair—well, you can see how the gossip would start. It was proved that he wasn’t illegitimate. Which was good—for him and his mother.”
“Wait—what would have happened?”
“Probably the kind of thing that happens in any of these crime families,” Ana mutters. “And it’s never good for the woman.”
“I think it’s safe to assume his mother would have been killed. Franco—possibly him, as well. And it would have started a war with the Irish. Franco’s father wasn’t part of the inner circle. Still, he was respected enough that the Irish leader sleeping with his wife would have been seen as a terrible insult. It wouldn’t have gone over well.”
I stare at her, horrified. But even as I open my mouth to protest that surely, Franco’s mother wouldn’t have been murdered even if she’d cheated—for one thing, what if she hadn’t? What if she’d been forced?—but then I realize that of course, that would have been the result. Rossi had wanted to kill me just because it was easier than trying to keep me alive. If it weren’t for Luca, I’d be dead.
Do you see a pattern here?The small voice in my head whispers. He’s protected Franco. He’s protected you. Maybe he’s not as terrible as you think he is.
“I told you that my mother and I came here after my father was killed by the Bratva,” Ana says quietly. “Sofia, I know that you’re struggling with the circumstances that forced you into this marriage. And I know Luca isn’t the kind of man you would ever have swiped right on in the real world. But I don’t think he’s a bad man. I think—” she hesitates, chewing on her lower lip. “I think he might even have feelings for you.”
“I agree,” Caterina chimes in. “I think he’s falling for you, even though he’s not going to admit it. Not now, at least.”
“I don’t think Luca is the kind of man who has feelings for anyone,” I say flatly. “You said yourself, Caterina, marriages in the mafia aren’t made for love. So why would he be falling for me?”
“Maybe it’s different.” Caterina shrugs. “Wouldn’t it be nice if it was?”
“I just want what he promised me,” I insist stubbornly. “I want him to give me an apartment away from him, where we don’t have to see each other. And then I can try to forget about all of this.”
But even as I say it, I’m not sure I mean it. Just last night, I’d missed having Luca in bed beside me. I’d felt lonely, even though being back in my own room was exactly what I’d wanted.
“We fight all the time, almost every time we try to talk. If there are feelings, it’s just lust. I know that’s all it is.”
“What about the morning after the attack on the hotel?” Ana asks suddenly. “You didn’t know if he was okay, right? So how did you feel about that?”
I felt relieved that he wasn’t dead. And confused about why he tried to save me. But I don’t want to say that out loud. I don’t want to admit that some part of me might want this husband that was forced on me, that I might actually want to try to make this work. That our conversation the night before last gave me a small window into what it could look like if we had a real marriage—and it wasn’t terrible.
I keep getting these slight glimpses into what my life could be—the way my friendship with Caterina would grow, the way Luca and I could make the best of this situation.
But this was never meant to be a real marriage. There will always be things stopping us—the fact that we can’t ever have children, the first night we spent together, the women that I’m sure will always chase Luca, and the knowledge of the kind of man he is when he’s not home with me, the things he does for his job. Things that I’ll benefit from because I live in this house and spend his money. I can’t believe that he’ll ever be faithful or that he’ll ever be anything other than what he is now—a cold and brutal man who has flickers of warmth at unexpected times.
“I didn’t care,” I say flatly, putting as much effort as I can into making it sound as if that’s true. “The only thing I was worried about is what would happen to me if he’d died.”
I know, for a fact, as the words come out of my mouth that it’s not true.
And looking at Caterina and Ana’s faces, I don’t think they believe me either.
