Chapter 4 The Promise That Was Never Mine

Dante Gray:

One Week Later

I was lying down, ready to sleep, when my phone beeped, announcing the arrival of a message. And I already had a good idea who it was from.

Clara had stayed quiet during that last week and, to tell the truth, I even found her disappearance strange. I even thought she might already know about my future wedding, but I quickly dismissed that idea – that matter had been discussed behind closed doors and it was agreed not to let it leak, not even within the mafia, until the right moment. It was an important decision, mainly for the protection of Anastasia, my future fiancée.

I opened the app and, as I read the message, I found myself admiring my own reaction – because I felt good reading the words of that mischievous girl.

Clara: Good evening, Dante Gray. I bet you thought I'd given up on you? Never! I was on a trip with Mom and Dad, so I couldn't be on my phone, because they keep nagging me about it. Since I don't want them to know about us, I kept my phone off to avoid the temptation of sending you messages. Did you miss me? I missed you a lot.

I smiled as I finished reading.

And I decided to respond – and to be honest with her. The last thing I wanted was to feed her hopes, because the girl would suffer when she found out, a few years from now, about the arranged marriage that destroyed her chances with me. I barely replied to her messages, precisely so as not to delude her. However, the notifications kept coming, and whenever they arrived, I enjoyed reading them. Clara knew I was seeing her messages and that if I truly didn't want to receive them, I would have blocked her already. That's why she never stopped sending them.

During the past year, after that Christmas when she confessed her interest in me, there were rarely days when I didn't receive messages from her – all of them always making clear her interest and how confident she was that one day we would marry.

The girl was bold. Confident. Determined. And she seemed willing to conquer her place by my side at any cost. She had a great sense of humor and was very mature for her age – which made me enjoy the few times I replied to her messages and we developed a conversation. It was good talking to her.

Incredible as it may seem, I was genuinely upset that I had to tell her about my future engagement – because I didn't want her to suffer.

Dante: How are you, Clara? I hope you had a good trip with your parents.

I started a conversation, casually, and the reply didn't take even a minute to arrive.

Clara: My prince, you replied! I'm better now, talking to you, you handsome thing. And to answer your question: the trip was reasonable, because the truly wonderful ones will only be the ones we take together, after we get married. By the way, I changed my hair, see if you like my new look.

I laughed reading that. I liked her spontaneous way.

The message came with a photo. I opened it – and she was beautiful.

Clara had always been beautiful, but at almost seventeen she was changing. Losing her teenage look and becoming a woman. She had chocolate-colored eyes and hair, very full lips, and she was small and delicate like all the women in her family. She even reminded me a little of my mother's delicate manner. She was undeniably beautiful.

When the phone beeped with a new notification, I was pulled from my state of admiration over that photo.

Clara: Aren't you going to say anything? I'm dying of anxiety here.

Dante: You look very beautiful, Clara. Although it's not my place, I approve of the new look.

Clara: Of course it's your place. I want to always look beautiful for you!

Dante: I'm flattered, however that's not right. Actually, I need to tell you something, but it's a secret. Can I trust you?

Clara: Of course you can, prince.

Dante: Stop with that shit of calling me prince. I couldn't be further from being one. I'm not a good guy and you know that.

Clara: You're not a charming prince, and I'm not a princess who needs to be saved. So what? I know you're no good, after all I live with a mafioso, remember? I know very well who you people are. Although I haven't seen you in action, I know exactly what you're capable of, but I also know how good the men in your family and mine are to their women. You will be a good husband, just like my father and yours. I promise I'll only call you prince in our private moments, no one will ever know.

Dante: We won't have private moments, Clara, because we won't marry.

I thought it best to be honest. Because the more she made plans and deluded herself, the more uncomfortable I felt. I didn't usually care much about the deluded girls who had passed through my life – they deluded themselves because they wanted to, since I never gave them any hope. But with Clara it was different. I had affection for her.

Clara: There's no use running away, I know our destiny is to be together. Why so much resistance?

Dante: It's not resistance. Being the next successor of the Leader, I have no choice. My father will choose someone for the good of the organization, and I have to accept that.

Clara: You know Uncle Giovanni will never force you.

Dante: Guys like me, even having the illusion of a choice, in reality don't have one! I need to think rationally and always for the good of the family.

Clara: Dante, are you trying to tell me something? Spit it out!

Dante: My wife has already been chosen and it's not you. I'm getting married in a few years, my father and I have already given our word.

I wrote it all at once.