Page 275 of Merciless Daddy

“It is not too much?”

She looked at me.

“No. It’s not a claim. It’s not a trophy.” Her thumb passed over the stone. “It looks like me.”

Yelena laughed, then leaned her forehead against mine.

“I know where I want the wedding.”

“You do?”

“The courtyard.”

I did not need her to explain. I knew.

“The space between Filoxenia and Mezza Notte,” she said. “Not a cathedral. Not a ballroom. Not one of my father’s properties. Not some place where everyone has to whisper and pretend nobody ever got blood on their shoes.”

“The courtyard,” I said.

“It burned. Both businesses did, in different ways. Then everyone rebuilt it. We’re all at their heart.”

“The courtyard.”

She smiled through fresh tears.

“You are agreeing before I have finished.”

“I agreed when you said Filoxenia.”

“I want flowers. But not too formal. And food. Too much food. Tonio should cook something, but only if Katerina supervises or we will all die of olive oil poisoning.”

“Done.”

“And Kiryl should have a role. Something that doesn’t make him feel like a child.”

“Done.”

Her hand pressed over my chest. The ring touched my shirt.

“Done?” she asked.

“Anything you want.”

Her expression sharpened with that familiar distrust.

I corrected myself.

“Anything we agree on. Together.”

That made her smile again.

I kissed her forehead. Then I stepped back enough to give her room.

“We can go back to Nero,” I said. “We can drink champagne until Donatella becomes sentimental and denies it. We can call everyone. Or we can go upstairs and sleep.”

The choice sat between us.

I had planned the proposal. I had planned the ring. I had planned the lights.