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“Anyone else notice?”
“Just the girls, don’t worry.”
“I’m very fucked, Stef.” I lean back in my chair and sigh. “Very, very fucked.”
“Yeah, you totally are.” She claps her hands together, clearly excited. “Another Rossi baby! And half Irish. Will he have cute red hair? Oh my god, I hope so.”
I grunt in reply because it’s not out of the question. I hope our kid has Molly’s auburn hair. “I need to go have a chat with Dante. If you’ll excuse me?”
“Wait, hold on.” Stefania looks a little panicked. “What are you gonna do?”
“Tell him to mind his own fucking business.” I get up and walk to the door, but Stef blocks my way.
“He means well. He really does. I think he was just nervous your involvement with this girl was clouding your judgment. And this arranged marriage thing?—”
I lean down and glare at my sister. “Molly is clouding my judgment. He’s completely right. Only he doesn’t know Molly’s pregnant, and that she’s more important to me than everything else right now. I need to set him right.”
Stefania shakes her head, but gets out of the way. “Don’t be stupid.”
“I’m never stupid.”
“Famous last words!” she calls after me.
I ignore her. Dante’s lurking around the house somewhere, and it won’t be long before I stumble on him. I’m thinking about my conversation with Stefania the whole time I’m looking though, and I like the way she reacted. Sure, she was nervous, and obviously not everyone’s going to take the news so well, but I liked her excitement. Another Rossi baby. I love that idea—I’m bringing another Rossi into this world. Molly and I are doing it together.
Dante’s sitting in the living room scrolling through his phone. He looks bored, like he’s been waiting on Renzo to give him orders for a few hours. That happens sometimes. The Famiglia is busy with the war, but there are days when nothing’s happening.
He looks over when I approach and he must know what I’m there about because he shoves his phone away and crosses his arms, already on the defensive.
“I told her to keep her mouth shut,” he complains.
“Yeah, well, she didn’t.” I stand in front of him and stoop and glare in his face. “Keep yourself out of my fucking business.”
“The girl is everyone’s business. She’s Irish, god damn it, and you’re not being smart. What the fuck is it about her, Saul? You know she’s a liability. I’m trying to help you.”
I grind my jaw and finally can’t handle it anymore. “She’s pregnant and I married her,” I spit out, and immediately regret it.
Dante’s stunned. His eyes go wide. He leans back and his posture relaxes, getting less defensive. I take a step back and give him space, mentally beating the crap out of myself for being impulsive and moronic. Dante is Renzo’s best friend—he’s going to make all the same connections as Stefania, but he’s not going to be as nice about it. I fucked myself.
But he surprises me. “I didn’t know it was serious.”
“It’s been serious from the start.”
“No, you were just fucking her, at least from my perspective. You didn’t tell me it was more.” His eyebrows furrow. “It is more, isn’t it?”
“Yes, you fuck face, it’s more. She’s carrying my kid. She’s my goddamn wife.”
“Doesn’t always mean?—”
“I love her too,” I bark at him, seething.
He nods and looks thoughtful. “Alright then.”
I wait for him to elaborate, and when he doesn’t, I’m prepared to start stabbing him until he’s dead. “Alright, what?”
“I won’t tell Renzo.” He holds up a finger. “But you need to.”
“I will.” I take another step back, thrown off-balance. I expected a fight, but definitely not this. “Why are you taking it so well?”
