Chapter 3 - Gabriella (2)

We have about a little over an hour more on our flight. A folder lands on my table, pulling me out of my trance. I have a feeling about what it is before checking the contents. Still, I ask, "What's this?"

Mariano levels me with his gaze. He doesn't shy away when staring at me, always carrying an air of confidence with him. It shows in every movement he makes. When he talks, walks, heck—probably even when he breathes. Right now, he's cool and collected—a contrast to me at the moment.

"A contract," he says.

I chuckle, fingering the corner of the pages. "A prenup? You think I'm going to steal your money? Please." I shake my head, recalling what my father told us a few weeks ago that the Morellis were having financial trouble. Hence why they wanted to go through with the marriage order, so they could take everything from us and steal my father's seat. If anything, I should be the one insisting on a prenup.

He mutters something under his breath that I don't catch, and then he scoffs, looking amused as he looks down. "It's not a prenup. But if you'd like, I'll have one prepared for you."

I narrow my eyes at him, wondering why he didn't think about drawing up a prenup in the first place. Doesn't he want to protect his properties or assets? Not like I plan to take anything from him, but I'm just saying.

Looking down at the folder, I flip the cover and examine the contract he wants me to sign. It looks like a standard agreement the kind our family uses. But my eyes zero in on the clause that states that as long as he stays as the Don of the Morelli family and as long as we stay married, none of his people would come after my family. Otherwise: punibili con la morte. (punishable by death)

That's the only thing that I'm concerned about. This is why I'm marrying him. This is why I'm signing this piece of paper. And what I wish he would keep. Because despite what I think about Mariano now, I'm hoping that somewhere in that dark persona he wears like a mask, that guy from the cell I met is still there and he wouldn't go back on his word.

***

I must have fallen asleep sometime during the flight because I don't recall the plane landing and I certainly don't remember getting in the backseat of someone's car. So who the hell moved me? I knit my brows as I scan the interior of the SUV, taking in the two men in the front seat.

The same guy who drove the car back in New York—Jax, I think his name is—is sitting in the front passenger seat. And another man I don't know is currently driving. I scan further to my right and find Mariano leaning back with his eyes closed and his arms crossed. His lips are slightly parted and his breathing is calm like he's asleep. His Adam's apple bobs and my eyes follow the motion, causing me to swallow as well, mimicking his movement.

I squirm, shifting in my seat as I snap my stare to the front, cursing myself. Then I notice something different, making me look down. That's when I realize that I'm wearing a coat that's too big for me. No wonder I feel so warm. And not just any coat, it's his coat—the one he so unceremoniously threw on my lap. Was I too out of it that I didn't even wake up to all of that happening?

His scent permeates my nose and I can't help taking a deep inhale of the warm, spicy, and woodsy fragrance. It smells so…I don't know…sensual? And oozing with masculinity.

Shit. I don't know what I'm thinking. I clear my throat and ignore the urge to take another whiff like a psycho, smelling people's clothes.

I feel someone's eyes on me and I dart my gaze to the front seat, meeting Jax's knowing stare. He doesn't look away, and I know he caught me sniffing out the coat like an addict sniffing glue.

He looks to be the same age as Mariano, or maybe younger, with dirty blond hair and blue eyes. My face heats but I refuse to give him the satisfaction of seeing me guilty, so I arch my brow and lift my chin, challenging him. The corner of his lips curve into a smirk and he shakes his head, and then he faces the road ahead.

Ugh. It's been a few hours since we landed in Chicago and I already think it's a little anticlimactic. I didn't even feel the landing and everything else that happened after that.

There's a movement to my right and I turn to see Mariano rolling his shoulders and neck. I can feel what he's feeling. It's not comfortable to sleep in a moving car.

I risk a glance his way and make a mistake when I meet his eyes. He opens his mouth and I think he's about to tell me something, but then the car takes a turn and dips as we enter a basement parking lot of what I think is a hotel. Mariano averts his gaze and hands me two folders.

"The other one is the prenup. You can go over it tonight. I'll have someone collect them tomorrow," he says without even looking at me.