“And that’s no thanks to your hasty decisions,” he growls.
“Please … Matteo, Gianni, don’t fight on our wedding day,” I say.
Gianni and Matteo eye each other down, both refusingto say another word, and it’s obviously clear where Matteo gets his stubbornness from.
I sigh out loud. “Lucio nearly forced me to marry him, then took me when Matteo protected me. I wouldn’t have been alive if it weren’t for Matteo fighting him to come rescue me. I owe him a lot. I’m glad Lucio is dead.”
A soft smile edges on Gianni’s lips. “Thank you … I understand now.” His nostrils flare, and suddenly, he pulls Matteo in for a big hug. “I just can’t lose you too, son. Not after your mother …”
Matteo pats his back gently. “I know, Dad.”
“But I am glad that son of a bitch who killed her is dead.”
Matteo chuckles. “You and me both.”
When Gianni pulls away, he sets his sights on me. “You know, I think you will make a fine addition to our family. And I totally understand why Matteo went so hard on that Agostini boy now that I’ve met you.”
I smile and rub my lips together. “Thank you.”
He places a hand on my back. “Say, how did you two even meet in the first place? I’d love to know.”
Matteo and I look at each other like we just got caught in the greatest scheme ever, then laugh, despite being the only two people in the room who understand the joke.
God, I love this man.
Matteo
Hours later
The moment the car comes to a stop, I hurry out and open her door for her. There is no way my wife, in that expensive gown and all her doted-up glory, is going to step onto a dirty sidewalk. I lift her out of the car, her squeals a joy to my ears as I shut the door and turn around with her in my arms.
“What are you doing?” she asks.
“What does it look like?” I reply as I march toward the front door to the house.
Ourhouse.
“I’m carrying you into your house, like a gentleman is supposed to. Because my wife never got carried into her house, and she deserves to get carried into her house.”
“Myhouse?” she mutters.
I pause and grin. “You can keep your apartment as a vacation home, but this is your house too now. What’s mine will always be yours.”
She places her fingers onto my chest, pressing lightly. “What about this? Is this mine too?”
“Tesoro, my heart has always been yours.”
I raise a foot and slam the door shut behind me.
WHAM!
I lick my lips. “Now let’s go make some babies on the kitchen counter.”
“WHAT?”
“Or do you prefer the staircase? The bedroom? The bathtub? This house will need to be cleansed by a priest by the time we’re done.”
EPILOGUE
