Luca, in all his wisdom, his right hand man, had made it clear that he needed someone to run the household as Vincenzo. Someone alongside the mafia head to temper him. It can't be Hong Cha-Young. She needs to look after the law firm and Geugam Plaza back in Korea. A free spirit that cannot be contained and confined by the rules of what it means to co-head a mafia family. It can't be a daughter or son of any of the Families around Europe or even Italy; the unification would be great but at what price? It would compromise what Vincenzo had brought to the Cassano name.
An old family, consigliere, Luca had said. Clearly, his dear friend had someone in mind. Not someone affiliated with the Chinese Mafia but someone whose family wealth had been steeped deep in the past. It would bring a boon of money to the Cassano family, consigliere.
He had flown to China. He made the bows. The wedding is as beautiful as it could be for an arranged marriage. His bride easily could seem to be a decade younger than he is. Fine. Someone young could potentially bode well, grow into the Cassano family as its matriarch. There was a clause for no dalliances from either of them. Halfway into the celebrations, his attentions were required in Italy and he had to bid his bride a farewell with a soft kiss to the back of his hand, as he figured out very quickly that his bride was no woman, and a promise to meet him at the villa where they were to honeymoon on Lake Como. Everything had been arranged. It should go through swimmingly.
Of course.
Nothing ever goes through swimmingly.
It's nearly two in the morning when he arrives at the property and lets himself into the master suite, panting and sweaty, and with blood splotches all over his suit and some on his face as well. Ah damn, he'll need to have that sent out for dry cleaning. He stumbles over to a loveseat to sit down and just rest for a moment and close his eyes.
His poor bride. Married and tied to a sinner that even the Devil himself wouldn't want.
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An old family, consigliere, Luca had said. Clearly, his dear friend had someone in mind. Not someone affiliated with the Chinese Mafia but someone whose family wealth had been steeped deep in the past. It would bring a boon of money to the Cassano family, consigliere.
He had flown to China. He made the bows. The wedding is as beautiful as it could be for an arranged marriage. His bride easily could seem to be a decade younger than he is. Fine. Someone young could potentially bode well, grow into the Cassano family as its matriarch. There was a clause for no dalliances from either of them. Halfway into the celebrations, his attentions were required in Italy and he had to bid his bride a farewell with a soft kiss to the back of his hand, as he figured out very quickly that his bride was no woman, and a promise to meet him at the villa where they were to honeymoon on Lake Como. Everything had been arranged. It should go through swimmingly.
Of course.
Nothing ever goes through swimmingly.
It's nearly two in the morning when he arrives at the property and lets himself into the master suite, panting and sweaty, and with blood splotches all over his suit and some on his face as well. Ah damn, he'll need to have that sent out for dry cleaning. He stumbles over to a loveseat to sit down and just rest for a moment and close his eyes.
His poor bride. Married and tied to a sinner that even the Devil himself wouldn't want.