Page 24 of Married to the Ruthless Mafia Heir

"Don't think so." Lucia's hand landed on my shoulder. "Salvador's been out cold all day. Looks like Dante came back for you. You should be happy."

I stared down at the half-chopped vegetables on the cutting board. Said nothing for a while.

"I'll make a few more dishes." I glanced at Lucia. "You know what Dante likes?"

She smiled like I'd passed some test and rattled off his favorites. Lucky for me, I knew how to make every single one—Salvador used to love the same things.

Braised beef in red wine. Seared scallops with lemon butter. Arugula salad. Mushroom bisque.

I worked fast. Had everything plated just as Dante walked into the dining room. His suit jacket hung over his elbow, sleeves rolled up, hair not as perfect as it'd been at the wedding. He looked sharp. Professional.

The room smelled like food. I pulled out his chair. "Dinner's ready."

Dante sat, glanced at the spread. Something flickered across his face. "You made all this?"

I nodded and took the seat across from him. "Hope you like it."

I ladled him some soup. He took a sip, didn't comment, but didn't put the spoon down either. The only sound was silverware clicking against plates. I had no idea what to say. The memory of how we'd left things was still fresh.

"How've you been? Here at the manor?"

I looked up, surprised he'd asked. Didn't want him to worry, so I lied. "Fine. Nothing special."

It wasn't fine—not even close.

Word had spread through the manor that same night. Dante left. Salvador had too much to drink at the wedding and collapsed. The staff decided I'd driven Dante away and made Salvador sick.

First day as the Moretti family's lady of the house, and the whole manor had already written me off.

"That's not what I heard." Dante set down his spoon and leaned back. His gaze drifted past me for a second. Then his voice dropped. "Alfredo."

Alfredo had been standing by the door. He came forward immediately.

Dante didn't look at him. Picked up his wine glass. "When I'm gone, you manage the staff."

His tone was flat. No room for debate.

"I don't want to hear another word about Elena. She's the lady of this house now. Anyone who disrespects her disrespects the Moretti family. You should've handled this already. Understand?"

Dante adjusted his cuffs like it was nothing. "The ones who talked today—I don't want them in this manor again."

Alfredo bowed his head. "Understood, Mr. Morreti."

My fork froze over my plate. I couldn't help but stare at him. Was he standing up for me?

He caught me looking and shot me a cold glance. "I'm not defending you. Those servants failed to do their job. They don't talk about their employers. That's Alfredo's screwup. I'm just telling him how to run the manor."

If that's how he wanted to frame it, I wasn't going to read into it.

I dropped my gaze and pushed food around my plate. "Okay. But thank you anyway, Dante."

He didn't respond. Just kept eating, calm as ever, like nothing had happened. When he finished, he stood and went upstairs. I still had to check on Salvador, so I grabbed his dinner tray and medicine and headed to his room.

Salvador wasn't just paralyzed. His body was failing in other ways too. He used to play chess with me, let me read to him. But ever since he'd pushed me into marrying Dante, things had gotten worse. Too much stress, maybe. He was deteriorating.

I touched his arm gently, tried to wake him. "Mr. Morreti."

A wet, rattling sound came from his throat. Then his eyes opened, slow and labored. When he saw me, something confused passed over his face. "Dante's back?"