“For this alliance to work, she is. Think about it. If she didn’t have feelings for you, she could focus on her marriage.”
“See, that’s exactly where you don’t know shit about Drea or the situation. She and Rafe have an understanding.”
“Yeah, I know what he said. But you and I both know how feelings and emotions change.”
“So what the fuck do you want from me?”
“If you truly love her as much as you claim you do, there’s no way in hell you can stay around here.”
“You want me to leave?”
He nodded. “To give them a chance, I think you have to.”
“Where the fuck am I supposed ot go?”
“I don’t know. We’ll have to work it out while they’re on their honeymoon.”
At the thought of Drea alone in an exotic location with Rafe, my chest tightened with agony. “If you say so.”
“Maybe I could get the Kavanaughs to help?”
I swallowed hard. It was one thing to be sent off maybe to Sicily, but to Ireland? Fuck that was grim. “How will you possibly explain it to Rafe?”
“We’ll make it about business so he won’t have any suspicions.”
Even though I despised Gianni at that moment, I knew he was right. There was no way I could survive being close to Drea and not being able to have her. “How long will I have to be gone?”
He shrugged. “However long it takes. Maybe we can send you somewhere with a marriageable woman. Then you could kill two birds with one stone.”
“Jesus, why don’t you just shoot me instead? It’d sure as hell be less painful.”
“You need someone to focus on besides Drea.”
“I can pay many women to do that.”
“You and I both know that fucking strangers isn’t the same.”
Once again, he was right. “Fine. Send me to Siberia if you have to. We need a good Bratva alliance.”
“I don’t think that’ll be necessary.”
Turning around, I started back in the direction of the party. “Do you really think that’s a good idea?”
“If I’m going to make it through the next twenty-four hours, I’m going to do it drunk.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE: DREA
After snuggling with Audrianna, I finally fell into a deep sleep. Of course, it wasn’t for long since everyone from the stylist to my bridesmaids started busting in shortly after dawn. We were on a tight schedule with the ceremony at eleven.
Like a ragdoll, I allowed everyone to poke and prod me as they did my makeup and my hair and then wrangled me into my enormous dress. Although everyone chattered around me, I remained silent and stoic.
We had a long escort of SUVs to take the wedding party to the church. My poofy princess dress and I got crammed into a Rolls Royce along with Father. For once, he actually gave me a somewhat paternal look of pride.
“You’re quite stunning today, Andrea,” he remarked as we pulled into traffic.
For the first time that I could remember, I didn’t have a smart ass remark for him. Instead, I replied, “Thank you, Father.”
A cruel smirk curved on his lips before he leaned over to whisper in my ear. “I suppose it’s true what they say about pregnant women having a glow about them.”