CHAPTER TEN
vittoria
The car pulls upto the Mariano mansion, and anxiety twists my stomach into knots. After spending nearly a week in the hospital, I'm finally being released. But the thought of facing Cesare's children fills me with dread.
What if they're back to hating me? What if their brief moment of concern was just pity?
Cesare must sense my unease because he reaches over and takes my hand, giving it a gentle squeeze. "It'll be alright," he says softly. "They know what happened. Things will be different now."
I nod, not trusting myself to speak. As the driver opens my door, Cesare comes around to help me out, his hand steady on my elbow. My injuries are healing, but I'm still sore as fuck and moving like an old woman.
As we approach the front door, it swings open to reveal Lorenzo. His usual stoic expression is replaced by something I've never seen before: concern.
Well, that's new. Usually he's glaring at me like I'm something he stepped in.
"Welcome home, Vittoria," he says, his voice uncharacteristically gentle. "How are you feeling?"
"I'm... okay," I reply hesitantly, thrown off by his demeanor. "Thank you for asking."
Lorenzo nods, stepping aside to let us enter. As we make our way into the foyer, I see the rest of Cesare's children gathered there. The atmosphere is tense and awkward as fuck.
Valentina, usually so hostile toward me, steps forward first. "I'm glad you're home," she says, not quite meeting my eyes. "And... I'm sorry. For how I've treated you."
I blink in surprise, unsure of how to respond. Before I can formulate a reply, Giovanni speaks up.
"We all are," he says, looking genuinely remorseful. "We didn't know what you'd been through. We should have been kinder."
The other children nod, murmuring their own apologies. I feel overwhelmed by their sudden change in attitude, tears pricking at my eyes.
Christ, I'm more emotional than I thought.
"Thank you," I manage, voice thick with emotion. "That means a lot to me."
Cesare's hand on my lower back is warm and reassuring. "Why don't we let Vittoria get settled?" he suggests. "She needs to rest."
The children nod, dispersing quietly. As Cesare leads me upstairs to our bedroom, I can't help but feel both relief and wariness. Their change in behavior is welcome, but part of me wonders how long it'll last.
Once we're alone in our room, Cesare helps me sit on the edge of the bed. "How are you really feeling?" he asks, eyes searching my face.
I take a deep breath, wincing slightly at lingering pain in my ribs. "Overwhelmed," I admit. "I didn't expect... that."
Cesare nods, sitting beside me. "I spoke with them while you were in the hospital," he explains. "They know what happened, and they understand now. But they also know I won't tolerate any more disrespect toward you, Tori."
I absorb his words, feeling grateful yet uncertain. I'm not sure how long his children will stay nice, and I totally understand their hesitancy. "Thank you," I say softly. "For speaking to them. And for everything else."
Cesare reaches out, gently taking my hand. "You don't need to thank me, Tori. You're my wife. Protecting you, ensuring your wellbeing, that's my responsibility now."
I look down at our joined hands, struck by how natural it feels. When did that happen? When did Cesare's touch start bringing comfort rather than anxiety?
"I know this isn't how either of us imagined our marriage would be," I say hesitantly. "But I... I'm grateful. For how you've treated me, especially these past few days."
Cesare is quiet for a moment, thumb tracing circles on my hand. When he speaks, his voice is low and intense. "Things have changed, Tori. I care for you in a way I didn't expect. And I promise, as long as you're my wife, you'll never have to fear being hurt again."
His words send warmth spreading through my chest. I look up, meeting his gaze. The intensity I see there takes my breath away. Without thinking, I lean in, pressing my lips to his in a soft, tentative kiss.
Cesare responds immediately, one hand cupping my cheek as he deepens the kiss. It's different from our previous kisses. This one isn't hot and heavy or chaste like our wedding day. It's something new altogether.
Something that feels... real.
