He sucks in a deep breath, squaring his shoulders and standing tall. "As you are the head of this household and her closest living male relative, I've come to ask for you for Maddalena's hand."
"Ah."
"The Trio is paying for my education, and I can afford an apartment, so there shouldn't be a problem."
"Primo, you're nineteen."
"Yes. So?"
"And Maddalena won't be nineteen for a few more months."
"My parents married young."
"I know, but we don't have to do everything the way our parents did. Our fathers were both supporters of the Seconda Notte and the bloody sheet tradition. Are you planning to follow that example?"
"Hell no!"
"Good. Maddalena has applied at North Park. She wants to attend college, explore a few opportunities. You've got plenty of time for marriage and everything that comes with it. Traditions die hard in the mafia, but that doesn't mean we have to blindly agree to follow all of them. Just our oath."
"So, you're saying you want someone of higher rank for your sister-in-law."
I stifle a sigh of frustration. "No, I'm suggesting you date each other, enjoy being college students for a while. If you make her happy and she's the girl for you, I will not stand in your way, but it's her you'll propose to, not me, okay?"
Primo accepts my answer, withdrawing, and I wonder if I've made a new enemy until Maddalena pays me a visit shortly after he leaves.
"I didn't tell him no," I begin. "I simply encouraged him to-"
My words are cut off when Maddalena darts forward, wrapping her arms around me for a hug.
"I take it you don't want to marry him?" I ask, wryly.
"No, I do. Someday. I don't want to be a bride at eighteen like my sister was." The twinkle in her eyes tells me she doesn't mean any ill will with her words.
She hugs me again and then leans back studying my face. For just a moment, the old self-consciousness about my scar flickers before I squash it. Her sister loves me as I am, and that's all that really matters. "What?" I ask when she starts giggling.
"I understand why my sister steals your cologne so often… because you smell incredible."
Rolling my eyes, I playfully tell her to get out of my office before asking, "Where is my wife?"
"In the kitchen, baking cupcakes."
***
In the nursery, I shared the news about Dante's decision with Matilde. She's worried for him but hopes that things might work out. "Maybe Alessio is tired of war, too?"
Not likely. Not when it involves his little sister.
I also tell her of my talk with Primo and Maddalena. She grins, already privy to her sister's feelings. "Thank you for seeing things her way."
"I'm still not sorry about forcing you into this marriage," I say, raising my eyebrows.
She laughs, reminding me I called it a marriage of convenience. I'd forgotten what it was to truly live before she walked into my life. If I'd gone on trying to keep her at arm's length, maybe that's all it would ever have been. But Matilde was brave enough to fight for something deeper, for love.
I ask her how soon she'll cry once we light the birthday candles.
"This is a happy day. Why would I cry?"
***
