“My wifeisstunning. Grazie, Emilio,” Dom drawled.
We were escorted to a private elevator that took us up. The sounds of utensils and amused voices were louder than the music. The speakers must have been out on the terrace and not inside the dining area. Then as we entered the restaurant, I could feel the shift in the air. It was like when animals fell silent at an upcoming predator, trying to find a way to run to safety. People at the surrounding tables threw covert glances at us, and as the manager led us to our private table—more of a booth with red and white curtains—whispering followed.
I ignored it and shifted my focus toward the fabulous view of the beach and mountain as I sank down into the sofa. The manager asked if he could take our coats. Dom took off his and mine and gave them to the manager. Allowing another man anywhere near my body beyond my hand wasn’t an option, obviously.
Dom regarded me over the menu. “Stai bene?”
“I haven’t been a girl to feel flustered around attention. It’s you I’m worried about. Everyone’s looking and talking about us.”
He lowered the menu, a hard look on his face. “I thought you liked me to kill for you.”
I really didn’t want to discuss this right now. I cleared my throat, staring blankly at the menu. “Any news on Leo?”
He leaned back, but I could feel his eyes on me. “Not yet.”
“How’s that possible? He escaped about a week ago and left Italy at least three days ago. He must be in the states, looking for revenge. How has no one found him till now?”
“He will be found.”
“When?”
“Non lo so, but his time will come.”
I shook my head incredulously. “I find it very hard to believe it’s taking Tino Bellomo all this time to find his fucking son. The last time Tino stalled finding someone was because he was hunting himself. What if he already found him but wouldn’t tell?”
“Why would he do that?”
“Who the fuck knows? Tino did whatever Tino wanted.” A frustrated sigh fled me. “Can I call my sister when we get home?”
A full smile stretched his lips, not one of his usual smirks.
“What?” I asked.
He took my hand in his. “You said home.”
I did. Another one to add to a long list of surprises about how I truly felt with him. “It’s just an expression. Don’t change the subject.”
His smile curved into that knowing smirk. “Certo. It’s your sister. You don’t need permission.”
“I thought… You took away my phone and passport…”
“I’ll give them back to you.”
“You will?”
“Si, si. There’s something else I’ll let you do. I want you to take a look at my place in San Francisco to see if you like it enough to make it ours. If not, choose any house for us to live there, and you’ll decorate it however you like.”
“Wow.” I didn’t know what else to say. When I agreed to this marriage, I never thought it’d become a real one. Even now, the idea of building a home with Dom dazed me. The idea of him, this dominant, controlling, powerful man, relinquishing all control of something as important as this dazed me more.
“I hope you don’t mind.”
“Of course not. I’d love to. It’ll give me a lot of room for practice and improvement, like an actual internship. You have no idea how much I’m looking forward to start my career, having my own clients, giving me projects like this. It’s pretty much everything I’m living for.”
“It looks like you care about nothing in life but your sister and architecture.” A hint of jealousy and disappointment laced his tone.
“They’ve been all my life…until last year.”
“Are you telling me that has changed and something else leveled up to be worthy of being a part of your life?”
