“Same way your mamma does when she knows she’s about to get what she wants from me.”
“I…” My voice came out as a whisper. “Saverio is to me who mamma is to you.”
He looked down at me. “Doesn’t make it any easier to let you go.”
“You never have to.” I tucked my head under his chin. “Love you, Daddy.”
Mamma squeezed his arm and wiped a tear from her eye with her free hand.
It was a little unfair to do that to him while I had him cornered. He didn’t usually do well with mushy conversations. But I had to let him know. I had to let both of them know. After what had happened, I didn’t want to hide my feelings anymore. Fear had been a cage that kept them trapped for too long.
Papà slowed a bit as we came to Saverio’s parents’ casa. Old Italian music played softly in the yard. String lights hung from the pergola. Lemons grew wild above the table like yellow stars, and when a tepid wind blew, the air smelled citrusy. It mixed in perfectly with the scents of Italian foods. Chatter was loud. So was laughter in certain areas. Kids zoomed around, chasing each other.
My eyes turned to Mariposa’s butterfly garden. I loved visiting it as a kid. It was named after Saverio’s mamma.
Those butterflies seemed to invade my stomach when I felt the heat of his stare. Saverio stood under the lights, talking to zioRocco, but his attention was on me.
He was dressed so casually. White dress shirt, sleeves rolled to the elbows. Dark jeans. Black boots. His hair was slicked back, showcasing his sharp cheekbones, amber eyes, and lips that were made to kiss—me. They wereperfetto. Not too soft but not too hard. Unlike the rest of him. He was so fit that I could see his veins underneath his bronze skin.
His watch lit up and I smiled, waving a little.
We were right on time.
Saverio moved closer, and his cologne drifted in the air. It smelled so good that I kept taking deep breaths.
This entire night seemed like the best dream.
Saverio kissed mamma and then stood in front of us. I was sure he would have shaken papà’s hand, but he was holding me.
My breath held when Saverio opened his arms.
I knew what this meant. It was significant.
“She’ll always be my baby,” papà said in Italian. Even though the words were simple, it was a declaration. A warning. I felt the undercurrent of it beneath his words.
Saverio stood taller, taking on the stance of a solider. He said one word in Italian. “Understood.”
Papà handed me off.
Mamma took papà by the arm and led him toward the table, to where Saverio’s parents were. My breath held. Saverio’s father had held out his hand for papà’s. After a second, papà took it, and I could breathe again.
Two down. Who knew how many to go tonight?
Saverio stood away from the crowd, his eyes on mine.
“What?” I whispered.
He shrugged. “We’ll be discussing the details of our arrangement over dinner,” he said. “But this feels like the merger of two families.”
“Official,” I said, watching as our families interacted. I smiled when zioRocco took Evelina by the hand and twirled her toward him. He started moving her in tempo to the music, singing to her in Italian.
“Not yet,” Saverio said, and his eyes narrowed.
Nonnoand Magpie had just arrived.
“You’re the granddaughter of one of the most powerful men in the world,” he said. “He’s not going to appreciate what I did.”
“Oh, out-scheme him, you mean?”
