I’m not a needy person by any means. But even I would have appreciated it if Santo had stuck around a little longer or at least dropped me back at my apartment. He says I live here now, but can we really live together and fake this in front of everyone? I honestly think it’s going to be harder than I originally thought. Especially after meeting his brothers.

He left me standing in his bedroom. What the hell am I supposed to do? It’s been hours. I’ve paced around. Snooped. Yes, I’ve snooped through all his shit—I wasn’t lying when I told Drew that’s exactly what I would do—because, well, he left me alone in here and I was bored. I didn’t find much. More pictures of him and his fiancée who died. He really loved her. I can see it in the way he looked at her. But other than a few photos, there’s no trace of her in here. It’s as if she’s never been in this room.

I’m relieved that this is a fake relationship, because there is no way I can compete with a dead girl. Not that I’d want to take her place or anything. But still, because it’s not real, I don’t have to worry about it.

My stomach growls. I honestly didn’t expect Santo to be gone for so damn long. I’m about ready to just go home, which I should have done the minute he left me behind. Who leaves a stranger in their house anyway? An idiot, that’s who.

Oh god, I married an idiot.

But an idiot is better than the kind of husband my father had planned for me. A shiver rushes down my spine at the thought of Oliver until a knock at the door has me freezing.

Shit, what do I do?

Light tapping sounds out through the room again. So I make my way over to the door, open it, and find a gorgeous young girl on the other side. Please, for the love of all that is holy, do not make me have to break the news to a bunch of groupies that my new husband’s off the market. Surely his social media blast let them all know that.

“Hi, I’m Cammi. I thought you might be hungry,” the girl says while holding up the tray in her hands.

I recognise the name from the list Santo rattled off. His sister-in-law. Relief washes over me. Thank god. My stomach picks that exact moment to make it known just how hungry I am. “Starving.” I laugh.

“Here. I figured you were hiding out and not going to join us for dinner.” She walks into the room and places the tray on the bed.

“Thank you. I appreciate it.” I sit on the edge of the mattress and lift the lid off the plate. The aroma of roast beef and veggies hits me instantly.

“I’m really happy he found you. I’ve been hoping for ages that he would find love again. We all have,” she says.

Guilt hits me. I’m lying to these people. We’re not in love. We’re not even trying to be. “He’s a really great guy.” Lame. So bloody lame, Aria. He’s a great guy? That’s the best you can come up with.

“He is. They all are. I mean, this family is… intense. But they love and look out for each other.” Cammi smiles at me.

“You’re his favourite, you know,” I tell her.

“I know.” She laughs.

“I heard that.” Another woman walks in with a baby on her hip. “I’m Daisy, and this is Luciano. Welcome to the fam,” she says.

“Thank you.” I don’t know what else to say. I do, however, want to stuff my face.

“Eat. Don’t think you need to wait. I don’t want to deal with Santo’s grumpy ass when he comes back and finds out you haven’t eaten all day,” Daisy says.

“He wouldn’t be grumpy about that,” I reply.

“How long have you known Santo? Where’d you two lovebirds meet?” she asks.

“Not long. We met at a bar. I literally fell onto his lap and proposed marriage the moment I looked into his eyes. And, well, the rest is history.” I shrug as I pop a roasted potato into my mouth.

“You proposed to him? Were you drunk?” Daisy laughs.

“A little bit,” I admit. “But when you know, you know, right?” I’m trying my best. Sticking to the truth with just a sprinkling of lies in the mix. It’d be great if Santo were here to buffer the interrogation, though. Just as that thought enters my head, a shadow looms in the doorway.

“Is there a reason you’re all in my room?” Santo asks.

“I brought her up some food,” Cammi says.

“I just came to get the tea,” Daisy adds.

“Thank you,” Santo directs to Cammi before turning to Daisy. “Don’t you have a home to go to?” He plucks the baby out of her arms with a grin. “You’re supposed to keep your mama on a leash, little man. We had a deal.”

“You’re making deals with an infant?” I ask him.

“Yep, but he’s not holding up his end. We’re going to have to have words,” he tells Luciano.

Another form darkens the doorway. A more silent one. Vin, Santo’s younger brother. Cammi walks over and wraps her arms around him. Something strange happens as soon as she does. His face instantly becomes more relaxed. I don’t think he likes me very much, but he certainly loves his wife.

“Okay, everyone get the fuck out of my room,” Santo grunts as he hands the baby back to its mother, guides her over to the door, and shuts it loudly. Santo stands there, eyeing the door for what seems like forever. And of course my stomach decides to growl again. He finally turns to face me. “Did you not eat today?”

“I’m eating now,” I tell him, picking up a piece of roasted pumpkin and shoving it into my mouth.

“That’s not what I asked. Did you eat today?” Santo repeats a little more firmly this time.

I shake my head. “No, I was waiting for you. If I had known you were going to be gone all day, I would have gone home.”

“This is your home now, Aria,” he reminds me. “And I happen to know the kitchen is always plenty stocked. Don’t skip meals.”

Why the hell is he scolding me about eating?

“Okay, this is too much. I need to go back to my apartment. I have to shower and figure out how we’re actually going to make this work.” I push to my feet, abandoning the plate of food, and step towards the door.

“Sit down and eat,” Santo says. “I’ll take you back to your apartment in the morning so you can pack some things.”

“I can’t stay here, Santo.”

“Why the fuck not?”

“Because… what am I going to sleep in? Where am I going to sleep? We haven’t discussed how this living together is going to work.” I throw my arms up in frustration.

“We’ll figure it out as we go. I’ll get you a shirt to wear,” he says before walking into his closet. He stops short and curses. “What the fuck?”

I might have rearranged his clothes a bit. There was no order to them at all. “I got bored,” I tell him when he walks back out with a t-shirt in his hands.

“You rearranged my wardrobe,” he states.

“If you didn’t want me to touch your things, you shouldn’t have left me alone in here.” It’s his fault really.

“I don’t care what you touch. I have nothing to hide, Aria.” Santo passes the shirt to me.

“Where’d you go today?” I ask, and he immediately shuts down.

“The bathroom’s through there. I’ll be back,” he says before walking out the door. Again.

Argh. He’s so frustrating. How bad would it look if I just stormed out and went home?

I pick up the shirt and walk into the bathroom with my phone. I need to call Drew back. He’s been blowing me up all day, and I’ve been avoiding him.

He answers on the first ring. “Aria Swan, what in God’s name were you thinking?” he yells down the line.

“Okay, first, it’s actually Aria De Bellis. And second, don’t yell at me. I did what I had to do to save myself,” I tell him.

“Holy shit, a few hours and you’re already using the weight of your new name.” Drew whistles through the phone.

“Shut up. I am not. I just… I don’t like when we fight.” I sigh.

“We’re not fighting, Aria. I just don’t think this is the best idea you’ve ever had. When are you coming home?”

“Ah… I’m staying at Santo’s tonight.”

“You’re sleeping with him?” Drew questions.

“No. Well, technically, I’m sleeping in his bed, but he promised sex was never going to happen,” I say.

“And you believed him? Babe, he has eyes, and any man sharing a bed with you is going to want sex.”

“You’ve shared beds with me and we’ve never done it,” I remind my best friend.

“That’s different,” Drew says.

“How?”

“You’re like my sister, but less annoying. Usually.”

“Drew, this is going to work. I don’t have to marry Oliver and my dad isn’t taking the trust away.”

“How did the old man take the news?” Drew asks.

“Not great. But he came around… I think Santo gave him some words of encouragement,” I admit, and Drew laughs.

“You got your new mafia husband to threaten your father.”

“I didn’t get him to do anything. And he’s not in the mafia—that’s just a rumour.” I don’t like lying to my best friend, but I’ve seen movies. I’m not going to confirm that the De Bellis family is in fact mafia. I don’t even know that for sure. I mean, it’s not rocket science. Anyone who looks around this house would come to that conclusion. But still, I’m not trying to end up with a pair of cement shoes.

“Right. Are you sure you’re safe there, Aria?” Drew asks.

“I’m sure. Everyone seems really nice actually,” I say, reaching into the shower stall and turning on the faucet.

“Why is there water running?”

“Because I’m about to jump in the shower,” I tell him.

“You know, Oliver probably isn’t going to take this too well. Have you heard from him?”

“Not yet,” I say.

“Let me know if you do. I’ve been waiting for a chance to knock that fucker on his ass.” We all went to school together. Drew and Oliver were never friends. Actually, Oliver was never friends with anyone really. He was just creepy. Lurking. Wherever I turned, he was there. I was glad when school ended, and I didn’t have to see him again.

“You’re not doing that. He will sue you. Besides, I doubt even he is stupid enough to do anything to me now.” I unzip my dress and let the fabric fall to the floor.

“How long is this fake marriage supposed to last?”

“One year. We’ll pretend for a year. Once I have my mother’s necklace, we can get a divorce,” I tell Drew.

“This is a lot to do for a necklace,” he says.

“It’s important to me.”

“I know.” Drew sighs.

I step under the water and make quick work of rinsing off. Scrubbing all the makeup from my face with soap. Not the best, but you work with what you have. I use Santo’s shampoo and conditioner to wash my hair. His scent surrounds me, and I don’t hate it.

I turn off the water and pat myself dry while Drew tells me about his night. I’m vaguely listening as I throw the t-shirt over my head. I forgo underwear. When I walk back out to the bedroom, Santo is sitting on the edge of the bed, staring right back at me.

“Ah, Drew, I gotta go. I’ll call you back later.” I hang up before my best friend can respond.

“Do you always talk to other men when you’re naked?” Santo asks, running his eyes up and down my body.

I suddenly wish I had more layers on. “I’m not naked. And it was a phone call, not a video chat. He couldn’t see me.” I toss the device onto the bedside table.

“You were in the shower, naked, Aria. And no man needs to actually see the image to imagine it,” Santo says.

“It’s Drew. Trust me, he does not imagine me naked.” I laugh.

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