“Carmine. Carmine Ferraro.”
My mouth drops open and instinctively I grip Christopher’s hand. He bends down to whisper something, but I can’t hear the words.
“I’m sorry, I heard so much talk about you, that I’m surprised to meet you in person.”
“If they were good things, then they’re true.” Carmine heartily laughs along with Ferdinando and Chris. “I doubt the old Bonetti has ever praised me.”
I look down, feeling embarrassed. What do they actually know about me?
“Now I’m curious. Let me guess,” he rubs his chin, “Bonetti wanted to organize an ambush.”
My eyes snap to his. How does he know? “We’ve always been ten steps ahead of him. But would like to have a chat with you,” he pauses. “Of course, Christopher may join too.”
“Sure.” My voice trembles, betraying all my acts of being at ease here.
“Enjoy the party, and welcome to the family, Leila.” He moves away even before I can thank him.
Elena appears at my side, her smile bright and infectious. “Come on, Leila.” She takes my arm and leads me through the crowd. “I want to introduce you to some friends.”
As we weave our way through the throng of people, I can't help but feel a sense of awe at the opulence surrounding me. The women are dressed in elaborate gowns, their jewels glittering in the soft light of the ballroom. The men, too, are impeccably dressed in tailored suits and polished shoes, their confidence evident in every step they take.
I find myself drawn into conversation with some of the wives, their easy banter and genuine warmth putting me at ease. For once, I feel like I belong, like I'm a part of something bigger than myself. And as I steal a glance at Chris across the room, I can't help but feel a sense of gratitude for this moment of respite. Helooks every bit as handsome as I remember, his dark hair tousled and his eyes sparkling with mischief. For a moment, our gazes lock and he flashes a smile before continuing his conversation, and I feel a surge of warmth flood through me, washing away my fears and doubts.
CHAPTER 12
CHRIS
Seattle
As the plane touches down on the runway, I can feel the tension radiating off Leila beside me. Three sleek SUVs wait for us, and I sigh since I asked Zack I’m not the president but still three is way better than five. Leila’s curiosity is palpable, but there's an underlying fear in her eyes that I can't ignore.
I make a silent vow to myself as we step off the plane: we need to talk about the past, but our focus must be on the future. I reach out to squeeze her hand, offering what little comfort I can. “Ready for a new life?”
Leila nods, her expression a mix of apprehension and determination.
The driveto my new home is filled with tense silence, punctuated only by the sound of the engine and the occasional honk of a passing car. I can sense Leila's unease, I know she has questions but I don't press her to speak. We have time to heal and to rebuild.
As we pull up to the gates of the estate, I can see her face lighting up as our initials create the new Bonetti crest. I reach out to touch her arm, offering her a reassuring smile. “Welcome home, baby.”
The gates swing open, revealing the sprawling mansion beyond. Leila's eyes widen in awe as we drive up the winding driveway, taking in the grandeur of our new home. I didn’t want to take her where my father’s ghost may linger. She deserves to wipe off that nightmare from her life. We both deserve it.
Once inside, I give her a tour of the house, pointing out each room and its purpose. Her eyes light up as we pass through the spacious living room, the elegant dining room, and the cozy study. I know she loved to read and I’m sure she’ll adore filling her study with books.
But it's when we reach my home office that I see her freeze in place. Her gaze lingers on an old photograph sitting on my desk, and I can sense the flood of memories rushing back to her.Si, piccola, sei sempre stata con me. Yeah, baby, you’ve always been with me.
“You still have it,” she whispers.
I nod, unable to tear my eyes away from her. “It's still one of my favorite pictures.”
Leila nods, her eyes glistening with unshed tears. “Until the new ones,” she says, her voice thick with emotion. And it speaks volume, we pushed this talk for way too long.
I reachout to touch her cheek, wiping away a stray tear. “We'll talk more after dinner,” I promise. “But for now, let me show you the rest of it.”
As we walk out of my home office, she almost jumps in my arms, “She’s Stacy, my ninja maid.”
Stacy bursts out laughing. “Not a ninja but happy to meet you, Miss, welcome home.”
“My pleasure, I’m Leila.”
