“I knew about Dante, and I didn’t care. He never shoved it in anyone’s faces like you’d expect a rich kid to, but then, his Family is a bit different, and what you see on television isn’t always accurate in reality.”
That’s for damn sure.I stab another potato wedge. They’re disappearing too fast.
“Don Luciani made me an offer, and it was one I had no interest in turning down.” Giulio lifts a pepper slice to his lips and chews almost thoughtfully.
I already know where this story is going, and though a pang of jealousy settles in my chest, I can’t help but feel happy for him. He got out. He found a family, at least. That’s all any foster kid wants. Loyalty and family.
“When it was clear that I had no intention of refusing his interest and that I didn’t care what he and the Family did, the adoption was basically just a formality. Even if you’re adopted later in life versus as a young child, there’s still paperwork, but I suspect that his contact already had shit half done before he ever approached me.” He reaches for his glass and takes a long swallow. “When he told me he wanted me married before he would let me take on the position as his right hand, I thought he was punishing me for something—couldn’t figure out what, though.”
Well, fuck. It’s shitty to know that he considers marrying me to be a punishment.I practically wilt in my seat and stab my next bite a bit harder than necessary.Kind of an asshole thing to say, too, on a damn date.
“I don’t hate it.” Giulio’s tone and the absence of the soundof a utensil scraping against his plate have me lifting my gaze once more.
Don’t ask. Don’t ask. Don’t you dare—“Don’t hate what?”You dumb bitch!Mean Daisy points her finger at me and growls.Whatever.She can’t tell me what to do.
“Being married,” Giulio says. “I don’t hate being married to you,cara.”
Wow. What a declaration.Mean Daisy’s snide sarcasm is totally ruining this moment for me. I flip her the bird, and she responds in kind.
“I… uh, I don’t hate it, either,” I admit. Heat steals over my face, and I duck my head, pushing a wad of cheese off the top of one of the two remaining potato wedges on my plate. “I mean, it’s kind of nice… having someone. I’ve dated before, but I’ve never been in a serious relationship.” And even if Giulio and I don’t know each other well, we’re beyond the serious phase in a lot of ways.
My eyes move to the glittering diamond sitting on my finger—the one he gave me and demanded that I wear regularly after the ceremony. I haven’t thought about it much since I put it on. I’ve worn rings before—usually cheap ones or ones gifted to me from the childhood jewelry boxes of friends. This is no costume piece, though. The ring is ornate. Pretty. And it means I belong to someone, that I belong tohim.
Releasing my fork, I put my other hand over the wedding ring, hiding it from view. “But I don’t know how far you plan to take this,” I say.
“How far I plan to take what?” Giulio asks, his voice low and vibrating. It practically moves through the air like a lyrical notetorn off the string of a violin.
I close my eyes and inhale sharply, reopening them as I release the breath. Instead of answering, I tell him my own truth. “I had a lot of friends through school,” I tell him. “I felt like I needed to have them with the places I ended up. I wanted to fit in so damn badly.” I continue to stare at the knuckles covering my ring.
“You never felt like you did, did you?”
I shake my head. “No,” I agree. “I didn’t. Not until Michelle.” I finally lift my eyes back to his. “How you feel about the Lucianis—Dante andPapáStefano—that’s how I feel about her. Growing up with kids who had families sucked.” A fact I’m sure he knows well. “I didn’t feel like I belonged there any more than I do here.” I gesture around us. I close my arms around myself as if doing so might keep my insides from spilling out physically, even if I can’t stop it from happening emotionally.
“Not having any siblings or family makes it hurt when everyone else does. Michelle changed that for me. She took me home with her from college, and her family accepted me. They bought me gifts and asked me to join them for all of their holidays. For the first time, I had a sister—I had Michelle. She gave me a family, people who cared what I wanted to do with my life and who encouraged me. People who thought of me when they didn’t have to.”
My eyes start to burn, and I shove the tears back.This is so not the place to break down.“I’m grateful that you helped us, but if you wantthis”—I gesture between us—“to have any chance of being real, then you need to know that she has my loyalty, too. She’s my best friend. No more using her as a threat against me.”I lock eyes with him and let him see that I mean what I say. “She’s too important to me.”
Giulio looks back at me. There’s no anger on his face. No fury or irritation. Instead, what I find is something that threatens to make the tears start rolling despite my will to keep them at bay. In those ice-blue eyes of his, there’s no condemnation. There is just… understanding, acceptance.
“She’s your Dante.”
I nod, feeling like a broken bobblehead as I do.
Giulio reaches into the inner breast pocket of his suit coat and pulls out his wallet. I frown as he removes a few crisp, green bills and sets them on the table between us. Then he gets up and holds out a hand. “So long as she keeps the secret, I won’t harm her… or keep the two of you apart,” he says. My chest swells, and my hands slacken against my arms. “Remember this, though,cara, if she betrays your confidence and therefore mine, she will be dealt with.”
I shake my head back and forth. “She won’t,” I promise him. “She won’t.”
He nods and then looks pointedly at his hand as if reminding me to take it. “Good, then let’s go. We’ll find a much better place to finish our date than this bar.”
Sparkles dance around my head. A woozy sort of feeling that reminds me of that perfect place between buzzed and drunk where you’re just happy and floaty and not vomiting your guts up over a stained bathroom toilet. Before I realize what I’m doing, I launch myself out of my seat and right into Giulio’s arms.
My hands cup his nape, and I go up on my toes, pressing mylips to his in one fast movement. His mouth meets mine, and at first, there’s no response. He’s cold and unmoving. But then… he opens, and what was originally intended to be a kiss of gratitude morphs into something else.
A low growl rumbles up his chest, vibrating against my breasts and making my nipples tingle. I gasp as Giulio’s hands grip my hips and he jerks me forward so that I fall against him. All thought escapes me as his lips move against mine, warm and hard as he takes my kiss, turns it into his own, and devours me with it.
His fingers dig in past my dress and skin. I feel taken by him. Consumed.
Giulio’s tongue strokes over my lips, urging me to part them. The second I do, he sinks deep inside, stealing what little sanity I had left. A moan bubbles up my throat. Fireworks dance along the skin of my arms, up to my nape, and over my scalp. I force my head back once, needing air, only to have his hand grip the back of my neck and pull me into him.
