Promised to the Queen (Connected Book 1), page 1
Promised to the Queen
(Connected 1)
Barbara Winkes
Copyright © 2024 by Barbara Winkes
All rights reserved.
This book is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or locales are purely coincidental. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the author except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
For D.
Prologue
Mia
Back then, I was still naïve about so many things. I trusted that my parents would always have my best interests at heart, that they would want to see me happy. I thought that they were financially secure, and that they were making smart decisions for a business built on hard work.
Mostly legal. A big part of it anyway—I can’t remember ever being naïve enough not to understand where much of that money came from.
I understood that families like ours, connected, were different, and that each generation had to do their part to keep traditions alive.
I had no idea how far those demands would go, or how many other subjects I’d been ignorant about. After college, I did work a few days a week in the family transport business, Leonard Logistics, learning the ropes. It would all be mine someday, so it made sense for me to know the ins and outs.
I’d been holding that job for a few years while also jobbing at my friend Lucy’s resort, a retreat she had built for women only. The more time I spent there, a place a couple of hours outside of the city, the more I realized that trucks and shipping containers were not my passion. I loved being out in the fresh air, helping with classes and hiking tours, and even sometimes in the restaurant, if needed.
The mountains and lake had a calming effect that I never found in my office at Leonard Logistics, and I had yet to tell my parents.
Being an only child made it harder, and I hadn’t found the right moment.
That night, it was the birthday of one of my cousins, and after the family dinner, a few of us went out barhopping.
Earlier that day, Lucy had told me that she would like to offer me a full-time position. While this was great news, I had no idea how to break it to my parents. I didn’t want to sound ungrateful because I wasn’t.
I couldn’t see them hire somebody from the outside. Trust is clearly an issue for families like mine.
“What’s with the sad face?” Sadie, one of my cousin Camilla’s friends, asked. “Cam is going to move into the corner office on Monday!”
“That is awesome,” I said automatically, and Sadie seemed satisfied enough with my answer, because another drink appeared in front of me. Wine. They had been drinking cocktails and doing shots for most of the evening. I was grateful they didn’t make me join in.
Promotions and access to funds at a certain age, that was all part of the deal. Well, I hadn’t heard my parents talk about anything other than I’d inherit the company someday, run it with a carefully chosen “partner.” They started using a gender-neutral word after I came out to them a few years ago.
I looked past Sadie and froze when my gaze fell on her.
The woman was sitting at a table by herself. Her white dress that hugged her figure in all the right places, and her hairdo, a carefully constructed messy bun, might indicate that she was waiting for someone. However, she seemed perfectly satisfied to be on her own, with her own thoughts, as she sipped her Martini. There was something unreal about her, classic beauty like out of an old Hollywood movie.
I had been staring a little too long when brown eyes met mine. She held my gaze, her expression somewhere between annoyed and amused. I was unable to look away. She broke the contact first, but my heart was racing. It might be the amount of alcohol, and difficult decisions ahead, but I knew better.
I had been obvious about it too.
“Hey, why don’t you go over there?”
I shook my head at Camilla. “Not feeling it tonight,” I lied.
It was a relief that my generation had no trouble with me being attracted to women, not that anyone had said much. But Camilla and her friends had included this place in the barhopping schedule, and she noticed my interest.
“Come on, Mia…”
“We are here to celebrate your birthday. And your promotion.” I raised my glass again, trying to ignore what a few seconds of eye contact with that stranger had done to my body. I shifted on my seat, trying to ignore the sudden heat at my core. A fantasy, nothing else.
I cast another glance at the table in the back, but the woman was gone. I shifted my attention back to my company.
“Have I even told you how proud I am of you?” I hugged Camilla close and then picked up my empty glass. “I’ll just go and get myself another one of those, okay? Don’t go anywhere.”
As I made my way through the crowd, I couldn’t help thinking how much of a relief it would be to leave all worries and responsibilities behind for a few hours, hot sex with a stranger, a night of sheer abandon. Time where I didn’t have to think about Lucy’s offer, Mom and Dad’s expectations, my own fears of utter and complete failure.
I took the new glass the bartender handed me, a deep dark wine that would go perfectly with pizza…The fantasy could include some food and more wine afterwards…how late was it anyway?
I could have perhaps claimed that I’d been jostled by the crowd around me, but the truth was I was so lost in my waking dream I paid zero attention on my way back to the table, colliding with someone on their way out, the catastrophe unavoidable.
She barely made a sound, nothing more than an indignant gasp when I all but showered her in wine, the front of her white dress drenched in red. I slapped my hand against my mouth, shuddering, because in the lights of the club, the color looked like blood on the white fabric.
The woman who had been starring in my fantasy just seconds ago wasn’t hurt though, she was clearly mad at me.
“I am so sorry,” I finally found my words. I looked around for somewhere to leave the empty glass while I shrugged out of the tiny bolero I was wearing over my dress. “Here, please use this.”
She slapped my hand away when I was trying to wipe at the stain like some hapless heroine in a romantic comedy. Not her fault, but I lost my grip on the glass, and it fell to the floor where it shattered.
“Again, I’m sorry,” I repeated, as I managed to get my phone out of my purse. “Please, let’s exchange numbers so I can pay for the damage…”
Unlike Camilla, I didn’t have the corner office and the trust fund yet, but I was willing to pay for my mistakes.
She once again held my gaze in that completely captivating, devastating way, and then she said, “Forget about it. You’ve done enough.”
Despite her irritation, her voice was warm, dark, sending an inappropriate shiver down my spine.
“Please.”
She shook her head and left me standing. I had never been this embarrassed or turned on.
I thought this would be the last time I’d ever see her.
I had been mistaken.
Chapter One
Mia
I’m not going to cry. I owe it to myself to keep my composure, to guard at least this much dignity. None of what’s going through my head when my parents confront me with their plan, is much dignified. I can’t believe they are going to betray me like this.
I can’t believe they would even consider such a thing, regardless of how desperate their own situation is.
I’m aware it doesn’t look good. I overheard a few things at recent family dinners, even though the subject is only ever raised in hushed, embarrassed tones. It’s not that their transportation business isn’t doing all right, but they needed huge loans to get where they are now, and their lenders intend to collect. Soon.
It’s not just money that the once so generous Moretti family is after, though make no mistake, they want that too. They think they could get a bride for their good-for-nothing son at the same time.
Not if I have something to say about it. Over my dead body.
Finally, I find the words.
“I love you, but there’s no way in hell I’ll marry Joey…” I let my words trail off when I see the alarm in their faces.
“Mia, no, that’s not what we were talking about!” My mother sounds almost offended. “We would never promise you to that horrible man.”
I am far from relieved. I didn’t misunderstand when they mentioned my duties to the family, and how desperately we need alliances. They do. But I have a job that’s not related to the family business. It might not make me rich anytime soon, but it’s fulfilling, interesting, keeps me busy and pays the bills.
“Then what are you talking about? It’s the Morettis that you borrowed most of the money from, right? How are you going to fix this?”
“Mia, you know that we weren’t careless with that money, but it’s all tied up in assets. I know you think we’re old-fashioned, but families like ours have accepted that times are changing. Enzo Falcone has remained a good friend and an ally even though his parents are no longer with us.”
“What?” My voice rises a few notches, again. “He is married!” Not an asshole like Joey, but still. Married. And I thought they’d heard me when I told them I was into women.
“His sister, Alessandra, isn’t. And she’d be willing to agree to an arrangement that would help all of us.”
I had a dra
Impossible.
“You understand we don’t have a lot of time to get the Morettis out of our business,” Mom says. “And it’s so much more than that. If this goes wrong, we might go to jail…” She has tears in her eyes, pleading with me. Not fair. Who wants to see their parents in prison? Unless they are, well, criminals. I shake the uncomfortable thought. I am not naïve. I know where that money came from, and I know that the trucks and containers with our logo often deliver more than what has been disclosed in the custom papers.
Never would I have imagined…
“Mama!” Two can play that game. “I’m so glad you understand I’m a lesbian, but that’s still an arranged marriage. This is ridiculous! I won’t do it. I can’t.”
“What’s so bad about that?” she argues. “Your great-grandparents were in an arranged marriage, and they were happy.”
“If I’m not mistaken, he was also the one who dropped the last letter from our name to blend in more, so forgive me if I doubt his authority when it comes to culture and tradition.”
“Mia, that’s enough! We ask this one thing of you. It’s about time you took responsibility and did your share for this family. Other generations did what they had to do, and we are no different.”
For most of my life, I’ve known my parents as quiet and even-tempered. Them raising their voices now is a clear indication that their backs are against the wall, though I can’t help thinking that I’m not the irresponsible one.
I could ask my boss for money, couldn’t I?
And if Falcone is such a good friend, why couldn’t he help them out?
If I get married someday, and that’s still a big if, I want it to be more than a business deal, a last resort. I want it to be love.
“You chose each other!” I accuse. “Why don’t you want the same for me?”
“This is our only hope,” Mom says. Maybe this plan weighs on her, but not enough to dismiss it. “You’ll get a lavish wedding. Enzo and his sisters will pay for everything, and we can keep the business in the family. For you, and your future children.”
“You are delusional!” I’m tired and close to tears again. I drove right here after my shift only to have them spring this outrageous idea on me before dinner. “Do you really think the Falcones won’t take their share?”
And what’s wrong with Alessandra Falcone that she would agree to such a travesty? The heat rises to my face when I think of all the implications. This can’t be happening, not to a woman of my age in the 2020s.
“They will be investors, but we get to keep the majority of the shares,” Dad explains. “You won’t have to worry about that.” He casts a glance at his watch. “It will be all right. We should have dinner soon though. Alessandra is expecting you later tonight.”
“What?”
“We’ll send someone to clear out your apartment and get you everything you need,” he promises, looking relieved now.
“Clearing out…?” I realize this was never about hearing my opinion. They aren’t all that comfortable, but now the cat’s out of the bag. Dinner. They’re already moving on.
I don’t know them anymore.
Do I still owe them loyalty?
Fuck. I can’t do this. I wouldn’t even know who I am any longer.
“Okay, let’s have dinner, I guess,” I say, my anger rising again when they smile in response. “Let me go freshen up first?”
I don’t go to the guest bathroom, but straight to the front door. It’s locked, and when I try the security system, access is denied. Through the glass, I can see a security guard standing outside the door.
It doesn’t look like I’ll be going back to my apartment tonight. I must find a solution, and soon.
Welcome to my world.
***
The last thing I want is to see my parents go to jail, or worse, have the Morettis send some of their knee breakers after them. I know these things happen. I don’t believe we have ever stooped to such low levels, but I’ve heard stories about other capi. It’s a big risk to take, but…marriage? With someone I’ve never met?
It would be more than a marriage of convenience. The Falcones might be friendly, but they are aware that if they pay off Mom and Dad’s debts, we owe them. It’s me who’s going to pay.
In the 21st century? I can’t wrap my head around that.
I’m still determined to find a solution, but I’m not foolish enough to think I’m going to find it tonight. At dinner, I drink too much, and I talk too much.
“Look, before we go there, you have other options, right? I can talk to Lucy…”
“No, don’t do that,” Dad says, sounding serious. “We don’t know her like we know the Falcones.”
“What about Kendall Mancini? She still invited us to the christening.”
“Which will take place after the wedding. Mia, please don’t make this any more complicated than it needs to be. It’s the best solution for everyone. They’ll keep you safe even if someday we might not be able to.”
That gives me pause, even considering that my mind is muddled with shock and alcohol.
“What does that mean? Why wouldn’t I be safe? And why wouldn’t you be there—” I halt when they share a concerned look, but I find more words soon. “What else aren’t you telling me?”
“Nothing. I swear,” Mom says quickly. “You know that Joey has been after you since you were teenagers. He’s not going to be happy, but there’s nothing he can do once you’re married.”
I can’t deny it. Once upon a time, our families were closer, well, close enough to make mistakes with big sums of money. Joey has been a pain forever, and he has a hard time keeping his hands to himself. The idea of getting married off to him makes me shudder, and not just because I’ve stopped dating men altogether. He is not a good guy.
What’s the alternative? Hiding out with the Falcones? They will have expectations of their own.
Their daughter, my future wife, will have expectations.
This is all too insane.
I met the younger siblings once, a long time ago, but I know virtually nothing about Alessandra, except that she’s an artist. Reclusive. For a reason?
“They might come after you even after you pay them back.” It’s not a question.
“Let them,” Dad says grimly. “The playing field will have changed. We’ve increased protection to be on the safe side, but this is one reason why we must move fast. It will all work out for the best, I promise you.”
“I’m sorry we had to spring it on you like this,” Mom adds. “We’ll head over there in a bit and finalize the details, and I’m sure you’ll feel better. You’ll like her. And marriage isn’t always about love at first sight.”
What if that’s exactly what I want for myself? Is it selfish to hold on to that idea when it’s apparently up to me to save our business and lives, because otherwise…what?
There must be a way to get out of this without anyone getting hurt—or married.
***
We are not poor—or at least I had thought so—but I can’t hold back the gasp when I first see the Falcone estate. Someone might think it’s naïve, but I haven’t paid much attention to who’s who in the business, or what exactly their businesses are. I know the Falcones deal in art, which apparently taught one of their daughters an appreciation early on.
The parents passed away a few years ago, of natural causes. One grandmother is still alive, and she’s been advising the siblings along with an uncle. She lives on the property. They will all be present tonight.
And Alessandra. I wonder if she’s feeling as nauseated with humiliation as I am. Probably not, because she agreed to the deal. I’m not sure about the fine print, but I assume the part of our business they’ll get is worth more than what they will pay to Joey and his family.
I can’t think of any other reason, because why else would she say yes?
I guess I’m going to find out soon.
When we walk up the marble stairs, I wish I had changed rather than keep the jeans and hoodie I was wearing when I arrived at my parents’ home. What I intended as an act of rebellion now makes me feel wildly underdressed for what we are about to do, and my mind is swimming.
