The lawyer looks surprised that his wealthiest and most important client is bothering to request such a thing. “Of course, Mr. Barone. I have as much time as you need. Please tell me how I may be of service.”
Damiano caresses my knuckles, looking darkly dangerous all dressed in black, and gazing at the man from beneath his brows. “I want you to reverse Lucy’s adoption into the Barone family, or emancipate her, or do whatever legal hoop-jumping is necessary.”
“Necessary for what, sir?”
Damiano raises his eyebrows. “For me to marry Lucy, of course.”
The lawyer opens and closes his mouth several times, but before he can speak, Damiano says, “I’m not finished. I want Lucy’s name to be added to the deed for the family home. I want my bank account to be held jointly by Lucy.”
I look sharply at Damiano. I’ve told him many times that I wish to be his equal, but all I meant was that I didn’t want him to treat me like a silly, scared girl or a smiling idiot who had to wait at home while he got to be the great Don Damiano. I never imagined he’d give half of everything he owns to me.
The lawyer frowns. “I’m sorry, Mr. Barone. I don’t understand.”
“What is it you don’t understand? It’s typical for a married couple to combine and share their assets.”
“But Don Carlucci never…” He trails off as Damiano’s eyes flash in warning. “Yes, sir. Of course, sir. I will make those arrangements for you, but the matter of marrying your sister,I’m afraid that this is impossible. My hands are tied by the letter of the law.”
“Lucy is not my sister.”
Mr. Rosso looks back and forth between us, clearly trying to find a tactful way of telling Don Damiano that just because he wishes something, doesn’t make it true.
“I’m truly not Damiano’s sister, Mr. Rosso,” I say, and explain about meeting Damiano the day his father and sister were killed, and that my name before I was adopted was Lucy Cinders.
Mr. Rosso straightens his glasses. “I see. In that case, Miss Cinders, I’ll need to locate your original birth certificate.”
Damiano’s jaw flexes. “Lucy is a Barone. Address her as such.”
“Of course, Mr. Barone. Perhaps I may also draft a prenuptial agreement?” he asks hopefully.
Damiano’s face grows stormy with anger. “No, you may not, and don’t you dare insult my future wife ever again. Now, get out. I want a private moment with Lucy.”
The lawyer scurries out of the room as though it’s not his office but Damiano’s.
I picture pulling into the driveway of the Barone family home, and for the first time in my life, the facade no longer seems cold, forbidding, and unwelcoming. It will no longer be a house that I can be shamefully cast out of if my secret comes out. It will be my home. Mine and Damiano’s.
“We can eat pizza for dinner in front of the TV on a Saturday night,” I whisper.
Damiano smiles. “What did you say, my love?”
I turn to Damiano and seize his hands. “We can wear jeans to dinner. Sit on the kitchen counters. Dance to loud music in the living room. No one’s going to tell us what to do anymore.”
It feels like an enormous weight has been lifted off my shoulders.
Damiano lifts my hand to his lips and kisses it. “I want you to be my equal from now on. You will never have to ask me for money, and I will never keep you in the dark or force you into ignorance.”
“Partners,” I say softly. “In everything.”
“In everything,” he agrees.
I pretend to think about this for a moment. “That sounds wonderful. But you’re still forgetting something.”
His brows draw together in consternation. “What is it? Tell me and it’s yours.”
“You still haven’t asked me to marry you.”
Damiano’s face relaxes into a smile. “That’s true, I haven’t.” He studies me for a moment. “I suppose you’ll have to become Lucy Cinders for a while, but I’ll be impatient to give you back my name. Our name. Will you…”
“Will I what?” I prompt impatiently, my heart doing a joyful skip.
