“No.” I exhale a heavy sigh. “I’m not stupid.”
“I didn’t say you were.” He places his hand on top of mine while the corner of his mouth lifts. “No arguing. I want to savor every second of today.”
I link my fingers with his, and needing to move the conversation to a safer topic, I ask, “Do you have food at your penthouse?”
“Of course.”
“You didn’t eat anything at the reception. What do you feel like having for dinner?”
He relaxes in the seat and stares at me with so much love, I can almost believe we can survive anything. “Whatever you feel like, baby. We can order in.”
“I want to make you something.”
The smile around his lips is tender as he replies. “I’d like that very much.”
“Enjoy your wedding night,” Nico says as he brings the SUV to a stop, and when I glance around, I notice we’re in an underground parking garage.
As we get out of the vehicle, Christiano tells Nico, “Be here at ten tomorrow so we can move some of Sienna’s belongings.”
“I can handle it on my own,” I say as I wait for Christiano to grab my overnight bag from the trunk.
As we walk to an elevator, he replies, “I know, but now that we’re married, I’ll take care of everything for you.”
We step inside and as the elevator takes us up to the top floor, he mentions, “I’ve ordered a keycard for you. It should be delivered tomorrow.”
“Okay.” I have to admit, I’m actually excited to see his place.
When the doors open, we walk down a short but wide hallway that’s decorated with photos of everyone in the five families, taken at various functions held over the years.
I slow down as memories flood me. “Oh my God,” I whisper. “I did not expect this.”
“The photos remind me of what I’m fighting for,” Christiano says. “And what I will lose if I don’t stay at the top of the food chain.”
“Jesus. The pressure must be insurmountable.” My eyes dart to his face.
He tilts his head, and lifting his hand, he cups my cheek. “That’s why I need you so much.”
My heart.
He leads me into a big open space, the lights coming on automatically and bathing everything in a soft yellow glow. It’s much easier on the eyes than the white lights in my apartment.
As Christiano turns left, I notice a dining room to our right. We walk past an open space which can be used for entertaining guests, and when we reach the living room, I see an open arch leading to the kitchen.
He gestures at a large square coffee table that’s made of white marble. “I’ll show you later how all the remotes work.” Picking up one of the remotes, he presses a button that has all the drapes opening to reveal the most stunning views of the city.
“Why don’t you leave them open?” I ask.
“The morning sun is a bitch,” he says while he walks toward the kitchen. He shows me where everything is, and when he opens the fridge, I look at the ingredients. Seeing mushrooms and ham, I ask, “Do you have any cream?”
“I don’t know.” He checks the pantry. “Yes, there are a couple cartons of heavy cream in here.”
A smile tugs at the corner of his mouth as he shuts the door. “Are you making pasta?”
“Yes. Alfredo.”
“Perfect. I’ll help, but first let’s finish the tour.” He takes my hand and leads me out of the kitchen toward a grand staircase. “There are three guestrooms along with the main bedroom on the second floor.” He stops and points over the banister. “Oh, if you go through the door beneath the stairs, it leads to a gym.”
“Okay.”
