Annette’s POV
I don’t want to assume the heat in my blood pulsing is a result of my imagination of Ryan walking down the aisle today with another woman.
Or probably the fact that I am still upset with Vicente..
As much as I try not to think about any of these, I can’t help it. I tried to call Tessa to talk, but she didn’t pick up, so I figured she must be busy at work.
I met a chef earlier at the restaurant. He seems nice, and I am considering starting my cooking classes at the academy.
He approached me first as an admirer, but when I learned he was a chef and owned a catering school, I began bombarding him with questions about the school entry.
He couldn’t hide his amazement when I told him I was interested in learning.
As I walk into the house, I stare at the business card, determined to call him later in the day.
I have to tell Vince and then make my findings about the man to know if he is genuine before making payment.
I have some savings I can use to pay for the registration and classes.
Wondering if Vicente knew I had left the house, I stare upstairs towards his office when I see the familiar figure of his mother.
She is standing with a light smile, and I stop dead. She is wearing an elegant silky fabric, and her hair is packed in a bun. It makes me conscious of my dress.
I am wearing long blue jeans and a tank top. I didn’t bother to take a bath before rushing out, nor did I comb my hair.
It makes me wonder what Mark liked about me for approaching me at the restaurant.
“Good morning,” the woman greets politely, making me flustered and guilty.
“Good morning, ma,” I respond immediately, standing in front of her with my head bent.
She disapproves of me.
“Vicente isn’t around, so I guess I should talk to you instead,” she utters confidently.
Speechless, I nod.
“Where is your room?” She demands.
I was hoping to avoid Vicente for the rest of the day by going to my former room, but now that she is here and Vicente isn’t even in, I guess I should tell her I stay in the same bedroom as Vince.
That will strengthen her doubts about Vince and me.
Surprise flits across her face, but she quickly masks it with another smile.
She urges me to lead the way, and I do. Opening the door, I let her in before shutting it quickly behind me.
She moves to the couch and sits in, watching my every movement. Before I can sit, she attacks me. “Tell me about yourself.”
My heart jolts in anxiety.
I didn’t see this coming, but I should have known someone would ask.
There is absolutely nothing about myself to tell her, but I can’t possibly say that to her. I can’t disrespect her because of Vince, so I must be cautious with my answers.
“I…am from here…”
“Where exactly?”
“New Jersey,” I reply, taking a seat opposite her. Trying to keep my cool and stop her from intimidating me, I lift my head to meet her soft eyes.
She doesn’t look as intimidating as she was at the parties. She doesn’t even look as cold as she looked that night when we first met.
Vicente caught her by surprise so that reaction was necessary.
“Your parents? What do they do?”
Shit!
Panic spins in my stomach.
How can I tell her my mother is married to a man who is into the Mafia, and happens to be my husband’s rival? Isn’t it high time I told Vince about everything?
The only person who can understand that aspect of me is him. His mother wouldn’t. That might cause her to hate me more.
“I lost my father when I was 16, but my mother is alive, though not here in Los Angeles.” I finally mutter, and her eyes flash with a flicker of sympathy.
It disappears almost quickly.
I expect her to ask me to tell her more about my mother but she isn’t doing that.
“Do you love him?” The next question that rolls off her lips catches me off-guard, leaving my lips parted in shock.
I blink several times before I realise this is what we want everyone to believe, and I am not supposed to look shocked.
Unable to face her with a lie, I lower my head and nod gingerly.
Now I understand why I was so angry earlier. The man I loved was walking down the aisle with another woman today while I was here, wasting my life away in another man’s house as a symbolic wife.
I wonder if Vince knows anything about love.
But I expect so much from him that his actions hurt me each time he acts so cold towards me. It reminds me of who I am and why I am here in the first place.
It reminds me of my place. I am not a wife he met and fell in love with and got married to. I am just an accidental wife whom he chooses to keep.
“Do you mind me asking how you two met?” She asks, dropping her purse and crossing her left leg over the right, curiosity brimming in her eyes.
I glance up, my head spinning with lots of fake scenarios I could use. “We…we met…actually didn’t plan to meet. It was an accidental meeting, but here we are.”
My answer is ambiguous. I cover it up with a short laugh.
She is watching me with an intense look on her face.
“Do you know what it takes to be a Mafia Queen?” The softness in her eyes is gone. Replaced with a scowl and a harsh tone. “Do you know what your duties are as a Mafia Queen?”
I shake my head.
To be honest, it won’t hurt, just this once. Besides, I intend to ask Vicente that question, too.
“I am still training, so I guess that’s why he hasn’t mentioned any of that to me,” I say, but as soon as the words leave my mouth, I regret them.
I see a flash of doubt in her eyes, making me wonder if this has anything to do with my charade with Vince.
Am I not supposed to reveal to her that I am training? Are Mafia queens brought into the world with the talent inbuilt in them? Does this disqualify me for the position?
“Isabel has been training for years. Taking classes on what it takes to be his Queen,” she informs me proudly. “But that is not why I am here. I want to know what you’ve got and how you intend to help Vince.”
“Vicente and I share a form of understanding, and I believe our love is enough to tackle all odds.”
She shakes her head.
Wrong answer?
“I am new to this world, but willing to do everything it takes to help him and protect him if I have to.”
“Really?” Her voice is light and teasing as a smile crawls slowly to her face.
Really? I am asking myself the same question. One moment, I doubt this whole thing, and the next minute, I want to do this.
“As a Mafia Queen, one of your responsibilities is to organize parties and events amongst the families. You are Vince’s confidante. The secret of the whole family lies with you. You can order kills or even help with deals and alliances. You control the family in the absence of Vincete, especially when he is on a trip and you are back at home.”
It’s a lot to take in, but I nod anyway.
“Sometimes, Vicente might need you to serve as a spy for him during meetings and gatherings with the opposing family. You need to also help with the trading of drugs and ammunition in the public, among others.”
What?!
Drugs?
About the ammunition, I know they deal with a hell of a lot of weapons.
“Most importantly, you can’t get a divorce,” she announces suddenly.
“What?!” I can’t hide my horror as I exclaim loudly in disbelief.
“Yes, and that is because many secrets are with you. We don’t allow our women to go no matter what.”
My hands tremble at the thought of living like this forever. But then it hits me hard when the idea of my mother reels back into my mind.
She can’t divorce Dante.
She has to stay with him for life.
“Until he dies. When he dies, the woman is free to choose between going or staying back to continue running the affairs of the families.” She finalizes, and I stare at her with a new surge of energy and determination.
Dante needs to die.