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“There’s one more present,” I told my younger sister. “Alessio brought you something.”
With a sheepish smile, my man handed over the wrapped box to Noemi. As she accepted it, Frankie muttered, “At least one of you has sense.”
I winked at her—and she kicked me under the table. “Stop spoiling my kids.”
I shrugged. “I can’t help it.”
Noemi opened Alessio’s box and pulled out a tiny leather circle. It had a metal tag hanging from a loop.
“Oh, my God,” Frankie said. “Is that—?”
“Oh, shit,” Marco muttered under his breath.
Alessio was already up and out of his chair, walking inside the castello where we’d left Noemi’s present.
My sister shook the collar in her hand. “Mamma, what is it? A bracelet?”
Frankie was shooting daggers at me. “What the fuck?” she mouthed.
Alessio returned, a squirming puppy in his arms. There were gasps all around the table. Rafe came running over first, reaching up. “A dog! Let me see! I want to hold it.”
“Raffaele,” Fausto snapped. “Calm down. It belongs to your sister.”
“We thought the children could share the dog, Don Ravazzani,” Alessio said as he brought the animal closer to Noemi. “That is, if Noemi doesn’t mind.”
“A puppy,” my little sister whispered. She reached a small hand out, then snatched it back, her expression fearful.
“Here,” Alessio said, kneeling by Noemi’s chair. “I’ll hold her and you can pet her. Feel how soft she is.”
Noemi stroked the dog’s fur. “She is soft. What’s her name?”
“That is for you to decide, principessa,” I said.
“Is she nice?” Noemi asked Alessio.
“Very,” he promised.
He was gentle, helping her and Rafe get used to the puppy, and I had a flash of someday doing this with our own kids. Alessio would make a great father. Did he even want children? We hadn’t broached the topic yet.
Speaking of broaching topics, I needed to clear the air with my father. “Papà, a word in private?”
“Don’t be surprised if you’re locked out when you return,” Frankie said to me.
I chuckled and kissed the top of her head. “Then you won’t see what I brought you from Spain.”
“I hate you.”
“No, you don’t.” I walked over and joined up with my father. He began walking toward the farm.
When we were away from the others, I said, “You have to forgive him. I have.”
“A perk of being the don is that I don’t have to do anything.”
“You do if you want to keep your oldest son in your life.”
He clasped his hands behind his back. “Are you choosing him over your family?”
I answered without hesitation. “I did it once, with Paolo, and I will do it again.”
