“This one has pistachio in it,” Raffaele muttered, inspecting a delicate green slice on a silver platter. He looked at it like it was a puzzle he couldn’t quite solve before spearing a forkful and bringing it to his mouth. “Not bad,” he conceded, his brow furrowed.
I laughed, leaning back against the counter as I savored a piece of spongy citrus cake. “You’re taking this very seriously,” I teased. “It’s just cake.”
He pointed his fork at me, a playful glint in his dark eyes. “It’s not just cake. This isourcake. It has to be perfect.”
I shook my head, but warmth spread through me. A real wedding. A celebration with our friends and family. Something I’d never thought I’d have, let alone deserve. “Fine,” I said, grinning. “But I’m vetoing pistachio.”
“Good. I wasn’t sold on it either.”
I took another bite of the citrus cake and sighed happily. “I think this one’s my favorite so far.”
Raffaele leaned closer, his gaze flicking to my plate. “Let me try it.” Before I could offer my fork, he stole the bite off it with his own.
“Rude,” I said, swatting at him, but he just smirked.
“It’s good,” he admitted. “But I still think the chocolate is better.”
I rolled my eyes and set my plate down. “You would.”
We fell into easy banter as we continued tasting the cakes. I was still getting used to this lighthearted side of Raffaele. Who would have thought this man was beneath the ruthless monster who had forced me to marry him? It felt surreal to stand in the kitchen, planning something as ordinary as a wedding when our lives had been anything but ordinary.
“I’ve decided on my maid of honor,” I said, breaking the companionable silence.
Raffaele arched a brow, popping another bite of chocolate cake into his mouth. “Oh?”
“Celeste,” I said, smiling at the thought of my best friend. “And Eva and Camilla as bridesmaids.”
His fork paused midair. “Eva?”
I nodded. “Raffaele, she’s your sister. My sister now. I want her to be part of this.”
“I know. It’s just… I’ve never allowed her in The Below before. It’s never been safe for her.”
“That’s exactly why she needs to be here now,” I said firmly. “Your father is gone. The illusions are gone. It’s a new beginning. She’ll be safe.”
He sighed and set his fork down. “If it’s what you want, then fine. But it’s going to feel weird.”
“Good weird or bad weird?” I teased.
“Somewhere in between,” he said, shaking his head. “But if it makes you happy, then it’s worth it.”
Before I could reply, the door burst open, and Will came barreling in like a whirlwind. His energy was infectious as always, his cheeks flushed with excitement. “Morning, boss man,” he said cheerily, clapping Raffaele on the back with a little too much force.
Raffaele shot me a long-suffering look as if to say,Really? This kid again?
I tried not to laugh. “Good morning, Will.”
Raffaele had hired him to be his intern, which was exactly what he’d wanted when he originally entered that stupid fucking contest that almost got us both killed. Now, Will splits his time between our old apartment in the city and Raffaele’s estate.
“What’s the latest?” Will asked, grabbing a slice of cake and swiping his finger through the icing of the piece Raffaele was about to eat.
Raffaele glared at him, fork halfway to his mouth. “Seriously?” he muttered, looking at me for confirmation that this wasn’t some elaborate joke.
“You wanted an intern,” I said, shrugging with mock innocence.
Will grinned unrepentantly. “I call it quality control.”
Raffaele groaned and pinched the bridge of his nose. “This is going to be a long day.”
