His New Wife. Her Gilded Cage. 💍

CHAPTER 1

ADRIAN’S POV

“My wife is dead.”

I stared down at the limp body of my wife in my blood covered hands as I spoke to my father on the phone, saying words that I never thought I would.

My father was silent for a while. “What are you saying?”

“My wife is dead, father. Serena is dead.” I looked straight ahead at what used to be our home, now forever haunted.

“Adrian…”

“Stefan and Sofia have been taken to the hospital. Serena tried to…” I couldn’t bring myself to say that my wife had tried to kill our children by filling them up with sleeping syrup, so I took a deep breath. “Please inform Rico and send someone to clean everything up, I don’t want the kids to come back to this.”

*******

I didn’t have time to sulk over my wife’s death. In the mafia world, when a person died in the way that Serena did, they were buried immediately in a closed casket ceremony.

I should have felt sorrow and longing as I watched her casket being lowered into the ground, but all I felt was anger and resentment.

Serena and I had been married for six years, and on our wedding anniversary, death ended our marriage.

I felt my father’s steady hand on my shoulder, but was he comforting me or trying to steady himself? He met my gaze with worried eyes, and I could see how old he had gotten. I put on a brave face, because the older my father got, the stronger I had to be.

And this was the mafia, there was no space for vulnerability… even if your wife had just died.

Every member of the brotherhood was there. Even Rico Romano, our Don, had travelled all the way with his wife. He was the only one who knew the truth about Serena’s death. I had a duty to report everything that happened to him.

Soon, everyone would pat me on the shoulder and whisper fake words of encouragement, when in reality, they were already spreading rumors about my wife’s sudden death among themselves.

“She was so young.”

“He killed her.”

“How could she just suddenly die the night after their big public argument?”

I was thankful that my children were too young to understand what people were saying. They didn’t even really understand what had happened. Stefan, at five years old, didn’t fully understand that death was permanent. And Sofia… she hadn’t even gotten to know her mother.

A new wave of fury raced through my body, but I shoved it down. Few of the men around me were friends; most of them were looking for a sign of weakness. I was a young Underboss, too young in many eyes, but Rico trusted me to rule over Chicago with an iron fist. I wouldn’t fail him or my father.

After the funeral, we gathered in my mansion for snacks. Mother took a sleeping Sofia from my arms and laid her down, and my sister, Gemma picked Stefan up.

They had offered to look after the children, but my mother was too old, and Gemma had her own kids to look after.

“You look tired,” father said.

“I haven’t really been sleeping,” I admitted. Since their mothers death, the children barely slept through the night and I had to stay up with them.

An image of Serena’s bloodied body crossed my mind and I shoved it down.

“You need to find a mother for your children,” my father said, leaning on his walking stick.

“Ernest!” My mother exclaimed just low enough for only us to hear. “It hasn’t even been two hours since we buried Serena.”

Father ignored her and looked at me. I didn’t need time to grieve Serena, he knew that. I wasn’t sure I wanted another woman in my life, but my wants didn’t matter. Only the rules and traditions of the mafia did.

“The children need a mother in their life, and you need a wife to take care of you. You know what will happen if you remain unmarried. Your position as the king of Chicago will be threatened!”

“Serena never cared for him,” Gemma said, scrunching her face. She, too, hadn’t forgiven my late wife.

“Keep quiet, Gemma,” I snapped. She rolled her eyes but obeyed.

“I suppose you already have someone in mind for Adrian,” mother said with a scowl.

“He doesn’t have to,” Gemma said. “Every member of the brotherhood with eligible daughters will have contacted father already.”

My sister was right. Even though my father hadn’t spoken to me about it yet, I knew that he was already receiving proposals. I was the only underboss who didn’t have a wife right now— I was hot commodity.

Rico and his wife walked over. “If you need a break from your duties, let me know.”

“No,” I replied almost immediately. If I took a break, Rico would perceive it as weakness, and I would never get my position back. Chicago was mine, and I wasn’t letting anyone else rule over it.

Rico smiled in satisfaction. “Listen, I know it’s not a good time right now, but my brother has approached me with a proposal.”

“A proposal about what?” I asked even though I already had an idea.

“My brother has a daughter who isn’t promised to anyone. She could be the perfect bride for you. And think about the union between your Chicago and their city. It would solidify your position forever.”

The only thing I could remember about Rico’s brother was that he was a shitty underboss. He had no real power. I was unable to remember his daughter.

“Why isn’t she married yet?” Despite his flaws, her father was still high ranking. She should be betrothed to someone by now… unless there was something wrong with her.

“Her engagement was called off because the man she was to marry ran off with a prostitute.”

Quickly recognizing my trouble expression, father added. “She didn’t know him. He ran off before they could even be introduced.”

“You can marry her in three months,” Rico said. “At least then it wouldn’t be so close to Serena’s funeral.”

I frowned. “Why three months.”

“That’s when she turns twenty one.”

I stared at him and my father like they had suddenly grown horns. “The girl is ten years younger than me!?”

“Look around, Adrian. Look where you are. This girl is your best option. The only option.” Father said.

I clenched my fists. “I don’t think we should be having this conversation.”

Rico stared me down. “You know the rules, Adrian. You know them better than anyone. Don’t take too long to think about it.”

I watched him go. His message was very clear. I knew the rules. No one dared to disobey the Don. I had killed people for way less, so yes, I knew better.

I called Paul Romano the next day, the father of the girl I was supposed to marry.

“Hello, Paul. It’s Adrian.”

“Adrian! What a pleasant surprise. I suppose you’ve come to a decision about my daughter.”

“Yes. I’d like to marry her.”

CHAPTER 2

VALENTINA

Dad was unusually quiet over dinner, his eyes flicking to me every few minutes like he was gearing up to say something but kept losing his nerve. Mom, on the other hand, looked like she’d just been handed front-row seats to Paris Fashion Week.

When I finished eating, I waited for Dad’s nod to leave the table. I was itching to get back to the painting I’d started that morning. With the last week of my second semester officially behind me, I’d been pouring most of my free time into practicing my art.

Finally, Dad cleared his throat. “We need to discuss something with you.”

“Alright…” I said slowly. The last time a conversation started like this, he’d blindsided me with news about my fiancé running off with a prostitute. I’d been elated, but of course I couldn’t tell dad that. My mother had spent the entire week in tears, talking about how her enemies would never stop mocking her now. I’d just turned nineteen at the time, but apparently, having no fiancée was scandalous.

“We’ve chosen a new husband for you.”

“Oh.” The word slipped out before I could stop it. It wasn’t exactly shocking. I’d known this day would come sooner rather than later, but considering my age and the fact that I’d just started college, I’d naïvely hoped they might at least let me have a say in who I’d be tied to for life.

“He’s an Underboss!” Mom announced, practically glowing with pride.

My eyebrows shot up. Well, that explained her excitement. My late fiancé had only been the son of a Captain — respectable enough, but nothing worth bragging about in Mom’s eyes.

I sifted through my mental roster of Underbosses, searching for one even remotely close to my age. I came up empty. “Who is it?”

Dad’s gaze shifted to the table. “Adrian De Luca.”

My lips parted in shock. Dad had mentioned his name more than once when he needed someone to unload business frustrations on. Mom tuned out anything that didn’t involve social events or designer labels.

Adrian De Luca’s name had been circulating like wildfire these past few months. The most feared Underboss in the Chicago Mafia had “lost” his wife and was now left with two young children. The whispers surrounding her death were endless. Some claimed Adrian had flown into a rage and killed her himself; others insisted she’d withered away under his cold, controlling hand. A few even whispered she’d ended her own life to escape him.

None of those rumors made me want to meet the man, let alone marry him.

“Isn’t he a lot older than me?” I finally managed to ask.

“Ten years,” Mom corrected briskly, her lips curling into a smile. “He’s in his prime, Valentina. You should be grateful.”

“Why would he want to marry me?”

I’d never met the man, he didn’t know anything about me either. And even worse, I didn’t know the first thing about raising children.

“You’re a Romano. You know how beneficial the merging of two powerful families like ours could be.” Mom said.

“What about college? I just started. I’m only in my second semester. How can I get married right now?”

Mom looked at Dad in irritation. “I told you, didn’t I? You should’ve never let her go to college. It would only put ideas in her head.” Then she turned to me. “The women in our world do not bother themselves with college. Your ultimate goal should be creating a happy household.”

I glanced at Dad and waited for him to disagree, but he kept his eyes fixed on his glass of wine. The last thing he’d ever said about Adrian De Luca was that the Boss had made him Underboss because they were cut from the same cloth — ruthless, merciless, and built like predators who always got their kill.

And now he was handing me over to a man like that.

“When?” I asked, my voice steady even though my stomach twisted. Judging by Mom’s glow, every last detail was probably already set in stone.

“The day after your birthday,” she said without missing a beat.

“I’m honestly surprised you waited until I was of legal age,” I said dryly. “It’s not like the Mafia’s known for following the law.”

Mom’s mouth tightened. “You’d better lose that sharp tongue before you meet Adrian. A man like him won’t tolerate a disrespectful wife.”

Beneath the table, my hands curled into fists. I had no doubt this marriage had been her idea from the start. She was forever scheming to push our family higher up in the ranks of the Chicago Mafia.

She smiled like she’d just secured the crown jewel of her matchmaking career and rose from her seat. “I should start scouting venues before any of the other families snatch them up. This will be the wedding of the year.”

She patted my cheek as if I were some prize winning show dog she’d just paraded in front of judges. When she caught the unimpressed look on my face, her smile faltered. “I’m not sure Adrian will appreciate that sulky attitude… or that hairstyle.”

“She looks fine, Isabelle,” Dad said, his tone carrying a rare edge.

“She looks pretty and young, but not refined or womanly,” Mom countered.

“If Adrian wants a lady, maybe he should stop trying to marry a minor,” I muttered under my breath.

Mom’s hand flew to her chest like I’d just stabbed her in the heart. Dad coughed, but the twitch of his lips betrayed his amusement.

She wasn’t fooled. “You’d better talk some sense into your daughter,” she snapped, wagging a manicured finger at him. “You know Adrian. I’ve always told you to be stricter with her.”

With that, she swished out of the room, her long skirt trailing behind her like the final word in an argument.

Dad let out a slow sigh, his shoulders dipping as if the weight of the conversation was finally pressing on him. “Your mother only wants the best for you.”

I gave him a flat look. “She wants what’s best for her place in the Mafia. How exactly is marrying me off to a ruthless old man supposed to be good for me?”

“Come on,” he said, pushing back from the table. “Let’s take a walk in the garden.”

I trailed after him, slipping my arm into his when he offered it. The heavy summer air wrapped around us the moment we stepped outside, warm and suffocating.

“Adrian isn’t old, Valentina,” Dad said. “He’s thirty one.”

I searched my mind for what men in that age range looked like, but I’d never paid much attention to them, at least, not the ones from our world. Wasn’t Rico, our Don, around that age? The thought made my stomach knot. My uncle was a very dangerous and unforgiving man. If Adrian was anything like him…

What if he was some cruel, heavyset brute with dead eyes?

I glanced up at Dad, hoping he’d give something away. His dark eyes softened. “Don’t look at me like I’ve betrayed you. Being Adrian De Luca’s wife isn’t as terrible as you think.”

I narrowed my eyes. “Cruel. That’s what you called him once. Don’t you remember?”

A flicker of guilt passed over his face. “To his enemies and to people who double cross him,” he said. “Not to you.”

“How can you be sure? How did his wife suddenly die? How? What if he killed her? Or treated her so badly she chose the easy way out?” My voice cracked, and I forced in a breath to steady it.

Dad brushed my bangs away from my face, his expression softening. “I’ve never seen you so frightened.” He exhaled heavily. “Rico swore to me that Adrian had nothing to do with Serena’s death.”

I shot him a look. “Do you even trust Uncle Rico? You’ve told me yourself he’s been trying to tighten his grip on power.”

“There’s a lot of things I shouldn’t have told you.”

“And how can Uncle Rico be so sure? You know how it works. No one interferes in another man’s household, not even the Don.”

Dad’s hands settled firmly on my shoulders. “Adrian won’t touch you if he knows what’s good for him.”

We both knew those were just words. Once I was married, Dad would have no say over my fate. And the truth was, he wasn’t the kind of man to risk his life for a fight he couldn’t win. The Don trusted Adrian more than he ever trusted my father. If it came down to a choice between them… Dad wouldn’t last a day.

“He’s coming to meet you tomorrow.”

I froze, stepping back as if I’d been slapped. “What?”

CHAPTER 3

I'd been given clear instructions: I wasn’t to meet Adrian until we were officially introduced over dinner. Until then, I was expected to stay tucked away in my room while my parents and my future husband discussed my future, like I was some puppet who couldn’t contribute to decisions about her own life.

But when the doorbell rang, curiosity got the better of me. Dressed in my favorite denim jorts over a white tank designed with tiny raindrop gems, I slipped out into the hallway. Barefoot, I moved silently, avoiding every creak in the old floorboards until I reached the upper landing.

I sank to my knees behind the banister, making myself small, and peered down.

From the sound of the voices, my parents were already exchanging polite greetings with two men. Dad stepped into view first, wearing his polished “business smile,” with Mom trailing behind him, positively radiant. Then, two figures followed.

I didn’t need an introduction to know which one was Adrian De Luca.

He was taller than both my father and the man beside him, his sheer presence filling the foyer. The dark navy three piece suit hugged a broad, solid frame, his shoulders so squared they made him look like he could carry the whole room on his back. His expression was carved from stone, unmoved even when my mother batted her lashes like she was auditioning for a perfume ad.

At least his companion looked marginally human, offering a small smile here and there. Adrian didn’t.

He wasn’t old. He was definitely not fat or balding. Even through the suit, I could see the defined lines of muscle. His face was sharp, with an angular jaw, high cheekbones, and a deliberate shadow of dark stubble that looked expensive rather than unkempt.

This was no boy. Adrian De Luca was every inch a man. A dangerous, imposing, and fully in control type of man.

And I had only just graduated high school two years ago.

What on earth would he and I even talk about?

I liked painting, sketching, and I thought rain was the most marvelous thing in the world. Somehow, I doubted any of those would hold the slightest interest for a man like him. His hobbies were probably closer to extortion, intimidation, and laundering money, with maybe the occasional mistress thrown in.

A knot of dread tightened in my stomach. In less than four months, I’d be expected to share a bed with this man. A total stranger. A man who might have driven his wife to an early grave.

The thought made guilt prick at me. I was judging him without proof. Adrian had lost his wife and was now raising two children alone. What if he truly had loved her? What if he was still mourning her?

But he didn’t look like a man in mourning.

Then again, in our world, men learned early how to lock their emotions behind an unreadable mask. His lack of expression could mean anything, or nothing at all.

“Why don’t we go into my office for a glass of my best whiskey and discuss the marriage?” Dad gestured toward the corridor.

Adrian inclined his head upward in wordless agreement, and his eyes met mine. I ducked down with the speed of light, feeling my heart threaten to burst out of my chest.

He hadn’t seen me. Right?

I could only hope so.

I waited a couple seconds, then went back to take a peek again. His attention was now focused on my parents.

“I’ll make sure everything’s running smoothly in the kitchen. Our chef’s preparing a feast for tonight,” Mom said with syrupy enthusiasm.

Adrian and the man beside him both offered her polite, tight lipped smiles.

Did this man ever smile for real, for more than just appearances?

I waited until they disappeared down the hallway before darting down the stairs, my bare feet silent against the marble. Slipping into the library, which sat right beside Dad’s office, I pressed my ear to the connecting door, heart hammering wildly.

“This union will benefit both of us,” Dad said, his tone all businesslike.

“Have you told Valentina about the arrangement yet?”

Hearing my name in Adrian’s deep voice for the very first time sent an odd shiver down my spine. I’d be hearing him say it for the rest of my life. It was a terrifying thought. The rest of my life seemed so far away.

“Yes,” Dad said after clearing his throat. Even without seeing his face, I knew that meant he was uncomfortable. “Last night.”

“How did she react?”

“Valentina understands that it’s an honor to marry a man of your status.”

I rolled my eyes. I wished I could see their faces.

“That doesn’t answer my question, Paul,” Adrian replied, a flicker of annoyance in his tone. “She won’t just be my wife. I need a mother for my children. You do realize that, don’t you?”

“Valentina is… very caring and responsible.” The hesitation in Dad’s voice caught me off guard. It took a second before I realized he was talking about me. “She’s looked after her nephews and nieces a few times and seemed to enjoy it.”

If by “looked after,” he meant letting a toddler hand me plastic dinosaurs while his parents were in the next room, sure. But feeding them? Changing a diaper? I didn’t know anything about that.

“I can assure you Valentina will satisfy you.”

Heat climbed up my neck. Was I the only one hearing how that sounded?

There was a pause, too long for comfort, before Dad cleared his throat again. “Have you informed Rico?”

“Yes. Last night, right after our call,” Adrian said.

They drifted into conversation about some upcoming meeting with the Don. A topic so far removed from my world that my mind immediately wandered. I traced the grooves in the spines of the books beside me, only half hearing the exchange until Adrian’s voice cut in.

“I need to make a call home. Damien and I could use a moment to unwind before dinner. It’s been a long day.”

“Of course,” my father replied smoothly. “Through that door is the library. It’s nice and quiet. We still have an hour before I introduce you to my daughter.”

I scrambled back from the connecting door just as footsteps approached. The handle clicked, and I darted behind one of the taller shelves, pressing myself flat against the wood. Peeking around the edge, I watched as Adrian and his companion stepped inside. My father offered them one more polite smile before leaving, shutting the door behind him.

The door was shut. With me still in the room.

Adrian’s friend, Damien dropped into a nearby chair. “Well?” he prompted.

Adrian moved deeper into the room, his frown softening slightly. “It’s all so exhausting. Especially Mrs. Romano. God help me if her daughter’s anything like her.”

A flicker of irritation warmed my cheeks. Yes, my mother could be… intense, but that didn’t mean he could just—

“Have you seen a picture of her?” Damien asked, plucking a silver frame from the side table. A short laugh escaped him.

My stomach plummeted. He was holding that photo— the one where I was twelve, grinning wide enough to show every brace on my teeth, my pigtails stabbed with plastic ribbons, and a polka dot dress paired with bright red rain boots. Dad refused to hide it no matter how many times Mom complained. Now, I wished he had.

Damien turned it toward Adrian.

Adrian’s jaw tightened instantly. “Put that down. I feel like a creep just looking at it.”

“She was a really cute kid,” Damien said lightly. “Could be worse.”

Adrian’s gaze flicked toward the frame again. “She better have gotten rid of the braces and those godawful bangs.”

My hand shot up to my forehead, fingers brushing the fringe I’d stubbornly refused to grow out.

Damien smirked. “I don’t know. It works for that innocent schoolgirl vibe.”

“I have no interest in that kind of girl,” Adrian said, his voice cutting through the air.

A sharp thunk broke the moment. My elbow had knocked over a book on the shelf.

Silence filled the room.

I tried to slip away toward the next aisle, but a shadow loomed over me before I could make it. My shoulder hit something solid…someone solid, and I stumbled back, colliding with the shelves. Pain shot straight up my spine.

I looked up, and my breath caught. Adrian De Luca stood there, towering over me, his gaze locked on mine with unnerving intensity.

“Sorry… I’m so sorry Sir,” I stammered before my brain caught up with my mouth.

His eyes narrowed slightly, then recognition flared. And just like that, our first meeting was officially a disaster.

CHAPTER 4

He didn’t move. He just stood there, blocking my way, his dark gaze locked on me like he was trying to figure out exactly what kind of trouble I was.

The air between us felt heavy, like someone had closed a door to a room that had already been too warm. I could hear my own heartbeat in my ears, an annoying, uneven rhythm that betrayed me when I wanted to look composed.

I watched him with huge eyes and my mouth halfway open, unable to decide whether to say something sharp or stay perfectly still and hope he ignored me like most men like him did.

And then, recognition flashed in his eyes, like he was just now realizing that I was Valentina, the girl who was supposed to be his wife.

The longer he stared, the hotter my face burned. It was stupid, but my hand drifted up to my bangs without thinking. A reflex I’d picked up years ago, as if I could hide behind them when people stared too hard.

His eyes followed the action, all the way down to my bony legs and finally, to my hair, and I saw something else flash in his eyes. He thought I was just a child. The realization knotted in my stomach.

I didn’t know why it bothered me so much. After all, I was way younger than he was, but the way he saw me now meant something. It meant he wasn’t seeing me as an equal, not even close.

Up close, he was… handsome in a sharp, dangerous way, the kind of man you couldn’t mistake for anything other than power wrapped in flesh and bone. But the way he looked at me, steady, unreadable made me feel like I was being measured, weighed, and possibly found lacking.

I straightened my shoulders, clinging to whatever scrap of dignity I could find. “Excuse me, sir,” I said, forcing my voice not to shake. “I don’t mean to offend you, but… you really shouldn’t be alone with me without someone else here. And you definitely shouldn’t be standing this close.”

Out of the corner of my eye, his friend’s face twisted as if he was seconds from bursting out laughing again.

I held my ground, even though every instinct screamed at me to step back. His eyes were so dark they seemed almost bottomless, and the weight of them made it hard to breathe.

“Do you know who I am?” he asked.

I swallowed the lump in my throat, forcing my voice steady. “Yes. You’re the Underboss in Chicago. But right now, I fall under my father’s rule, not yours. And even if I did, honor forbids me from being alone with a man I’m not married to.”

His gaze didn’t waver. “That’s true,” he said quietly. “But in a short few months, you will be my wife.”

The words landed like an iron weight. Not because I didn’t already know, but because of the way he said them. As if it were an unavoidable fact of the universe, like gravity. Something I didn’t have any control over.

I tipped my chin up, trying to look taller and braver. My body betrayed me. My fingers wouldn’t stop shaking, my heart wouldn’t stop racing, but I wasn’t going to cower under his gaze.

“The way I see it…” he lowered his voice, each word deliberate, “…you spied on us. We were having a confidential conversation, and you barged in without permission.”

Heat rushed to my cheeks. I looked away, my excuse tumbling out before I could think better of it. “I was in the library first before you came in and startled me.”

His friend, Damien, snorted with laughter, but Adrian’s sharp glare shut him up instantly.

He sighed, the sound heavy and tired. There was something behind it, something worn down. “Damien, can you give us a moment?”

Damien left, and the door clicked shut.

Adrian stepped back, giving me more space. It should have eased my tension and made me breathe easier, but it didn’t.

“This is inappropriate,” I said quietly.

“I want to have a quick word with you. Later, your parents will be in the room and we won’t have any time to talk.”

A corner of my mouth lifted without my permission. “My mother will do all the talking. She’s exhausting like that.”

His expression didn’t change, but I thought maybe I caught a flicker of something behind his eyes.

“That wasn’t meant for your ears,” he said. Then he gestured toward the armchairs. “Will you talk to me?”

I hesitated, tilting my head at him, still trying to figure him out. “Of course.”

He waited for me to sit first. I sank into one of the armchairs, crossing my legs to look composed even though my heart hadn’t slowed since he’d caught me. He sat opposite me, every movement controlled, like a man who didn’t waste a single gesture.

Without thinking, I reached up to smooth my bangs again. The moment I caught him watching, heat crept up my neck.

“Please don’t tell my mother about this, sir. She doesn’t need to know everything,” I blurted, trying to sound casual.

“Don’t call me sir,” he cut in, his voice low but sharp enough to make me flinch.

I blinked at him, startled. “What am I supposed to call you?”

One corner of his mouth lifted, not in a smile, exactly, but close. “I’ll be your husband soon. Call me Adrian.”

CHAPTER 5

ADRIAN

She let out a shaky breath. “We’ll be married in three months.”

Her voice trembled, and the words hung in the air between us.

I nodded. “Yes, once you turn twenty one.”

Her brows pulled together. “Do you really think it makes a difference? A few more months won’t suddenly turn me into a wife.”

I studied her. She was saying things others wouldn’t dare say to my face, but her voice betrayed her. I could hear how scared she was.

“You’re right,” I admitted. “You’re too young now and you’ll still be too young then. But at least once you’re of age, I won’t feel like I’m marrying a child.”

She pressed her lips into a thin line and shook her head slowly. It felt like she didn’t agree with me, but she didn’t dare argue further.

“I have two children,” I said in a clipped tone. “They’re very small, and they need me. Stefan will be almost five years old by the time we marry, and Sofia will be only six months old.”

Hearing me talk about my children terrified her. I could see it in the way her eyes widened when I said their names. I expected her to recoil in fear, but she didn’t.

Instead, she did the bravest thing she could’ve done at that moment. “Do you have pictures of them? Can I see them?”

I was a master at masking my emotions, but I couldn’t conceal my surprise at her request.

I pulled out my phone from my back pocket and held it out, showing her my lockscreen. The photo had been taken by Serena just a month before she died, though she wasn’t in it with them. The kids were in a garden. Stefan was holding his little sister, beaming with the kind of unfiltered joy only a toddler could manage. Sofia’s tiny face peeked out of her blanket. Her big eyes were staring at the world like it was brand new.

I didn’t look at the picture. I’d looked at it enough times to memorize every color and every outline.

Instead, I watched her reaction carefully. Her expression softened and the corners of her mouth curved into an unguarded smile. I was used to seeing so many fake smiles around me everyday. But this was different. It was real, and so pure.

“They’re precious,” she murmured. “And how sweet, the way he’s holding her.” She glanced up at me and her smile faded. “I’m so sorry… about your wife. I heard—”

“I do not want to talk about my dead wife.” The words came out harsher than I meant, but I didn’t take them back.

She nodded quickly, biting down on her lip. That innocent gesture made something inside me tighten. Why did she have to look so untouched and so unpolished? Why was she so unlike the other girls her age who painted their faces to look older? Valentina was bare faced, and she looked exactly like she was twenty years old. She wasn’t going to magically transform into a woman in three months just because she turned twenty one. I’d probably have to order her mother to cover her face in makeup for the wedding.

She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, and a small multicolored beaded earring caught the light.

“Do you always dress like this?” I asked, nodding at her clothes.

She looked down at her outfit, then back at me with a tiny frown. “I like these types of clothes.”

A deep red flush crept across her cheeks when she realized I was studying her.

“I’m sure you do,” I said, letting my voice cool. “But I find them too casual. These types of clothes are not refined or elegant. You’ll need to wear clothes that show you understand the image you’ll have to project as my wife. If you give me your sizes, I’ll have someone put together a proper wardrobe for you.”

She stared at me as though she hadn’t heard right.

“Do you understand?” I pressed when she stayed silent.

She blinked, then gave a stiff nod.

“Good.” I leaned back. “There won’t be an engagement party. I don’t have the time for that, and I won’t be seen in public with you until you're a legal adult.”

Her voice was quieter when she asked, “Will I get to meet your children before the wedding? Or see your home?”

“No. We’ll stay apart until the wedding. You’ll meet Stefan and Sophia the day after we’re married.”

Her shoulders slumped slightly. “Wouldn’t it make sense for us to spend some time together before then? Don’t you think it would be good to at least get to know each other?”

“I don’t see the point,” I said sharply.

Her gaze dropped to the floor. “Is there anything else you expect from me? Other than… changing how I dress?”

For a moment, I considered telling her to start birth control. I definitely didn’t want more children. But the words stuck in my throat. She was barely twenty one. I couldn’t bring myself to voice it, even though I knew what would happen on the night we got married.

Instead, I stood up. “No. That’s enough for now. You should go before your parents realize we’ve been alone.”

She rose too, wrapping her arms around herself, as if she needed something to hold on to. For a moment, she lingered. Her gaze flicked to the door, then back to me. Something flickered in her eyes, like an unspoken question or a thought she didn’t dare voice.

But she didn’t speak. She pressed her lips together, turned sharply, and slipped out the door.

For some reason, the silence that followed felt heavier than normal.

A few moments later, Damien stepped back inside.

He arched a brow. “What did you say to her? She looked like she was on the verge of tears.”

My jaw tightened. “Nothing.”

He gave me a disbelieving look. “I doubt that, but If you say so.”