I dropped my cutlery in surrender and glared at him. “Stop. Seriously, just stop. This is getting ridiculous.”
He frowned. “What?”
“This. You. It's like you're reading from a playbook about how to say the most perfect, sexy things that women would die to hear. I know it’s all an act to distract me from whatever you’re planning against my father. Just… be yourself. Please. It will make hating you easier.”
He put down his fork and leaned back in his chair. His dark gaze bore into my soul, and I felt myself squirm under its intensity. Damn this man and his need for eye contact.
“I’m being myself. This is who I am. So the fact that you're finding it so hard to hate me should tell you something. I’m not hiding any part of myself from you. I’m an open book, Aria.” He waved his hand towards me. “Unlike you.”
“Unlike me?”
“You’ve been… pretty insane today. I had no idea I’d married so many personalities. It's been entertaining, but I know it's not the real you. Did you know, until I was six years old, I had eight different nannies before Olivia came along and figured me out? I was a master at refusing to let people get close. I knew all the tricks.”
I scoffed. I should have used this as a chance to get defensive and act a little more insane, but honestly, I felt strangely relieved that he’d noticed. That he knew I wasn’t really this crazy person.
“I get it,” he said, picking up his fork again and carrying on with his food. “You don’t trust me or my intentions. You’re keeping your walls up to protect yourself and doing things that you think will push me away, but it’s pointless,Bella Ribelle.”
“And why’s that?”
“Because you’re already falling for me. Sooner or later, those walls will come crashing down, and you’ll realise you wasted all this time and effort fighting against us when you could have been enjoying how inevitable it is.”
Why was I smiling?
“You are so arrogant.”
“No.” He pointed his fork at me. “Confident. So what do you say? Want to put away the crazy and enjoy our first meal together?”
"I suppose this meal does deserve to be enjoyed and not thrown at the wall like I was planning to do."
He smiled, and I tried to ignore the little jump my heart did at the sight of it. We spent the meal in a comfortable, domestic ease. He asked me about my upbringing in the UK and told me how he’d visited a few times with Olivia and Giovanni when he was growing up. He spoke about her with just as much affection as she had about him, and it was clear he adored her. Another surprising quality I hadn’t expected a man like him to possess. He was a family man. He loved, adored, and worshipped his family, even those who weren't his blood. It was hard to rememberhe was a killer when I was so swept up by the way he spoke with such emotion about the people in his life, the sparkle in his eyes, and the sexy way he moved his hands in animated gestures.
“Do you have any siblings?” he asked when we’d finished our food and moved to the large L-shaped sofa in the living room. He’d even turned the fairy lights on and switched off the main lights, so they cast a sensual, romantic glow.What a stupid idea, Aria.I’d unknowingly set the scene for a romantic night in with my new husband that I was supposed to be repelling.
“No. My parents separated when I was young, and neither of them remarried. I wish I had a big family. Brothers and sisters. Are you close with your siblings?”
What are you doing? Why are you asking him sincere questions like you actually care? Stop it.
“I am,” he answered, manspreading his thighs, which shouldn't have been as sexy as it was. He stretched his arm over the back of the sofa. We weren’t close enough to touch, but if I reached up, I could caress his tattooed hand with mine.Not that I wanted to.
For the second time today, I noticed the antique Rolex with a cracked screen on his wrist and wondered again why he was wearing a broken watch when he clearly had enough money to buy a new one.
“I’m closest to Raya. She’s two years younger than me, and we’ve been through a lot together. She’s an amazing musician, and she started composing her own music. She’s also learning to be a nurse. Elle’s an incredible artist. Most of the paintings in this place are hers. You’ll love her. Everyone loves Elle. She’s bubbly, feisty, and vibrant. Gio is harder to impress, but he’ll love you, too, once he gets to know you better. Gio and Elle are a lot older, so my relationship with them has always been a bit of an adult/child dynamic. Gio was twenty-three when I was born, so he’s always felt more like a father figure than a brother. But I needed that.”
I realised then that his father had been absent from the wedding. “Is yourpapi—”
“Dead,” he said sharply, taking another sip of the cocktail and still hissing. “He died when I was four.”
“I’m so sorry,” I said softly, and instinctively lifted my hand to rest it over his on the back of the sofa. My eyes widened when I realised what I’d done, but when I tried to move it away, he entwined our fingers, drawing circles with his thumb over my skin.
“It was a long time ago.”
I knew what it felt like to lose a parent too soon, and I knew that time taught you how to breathe around it, but it never numbed the grief.
“How did he die?”
“He was murdered. Enemies ran him and mymammaoff the road in a car chase, then opened fire on them. He was shot multiple times trying to protect mymammafrom being taken by them. She blamed herself for a long time.”
My mouth hung open. It didn’t sound real. But this was his life. The real dangers he faced. I gulped, realising I had just become part of that life too.
