Page 195 of Made in Love and Blood

Salvatore tried a different route. “No one said they’re rushing down the aisle. It’s just...a formal step.”

“To what end?”

“Hmm?”

Giorgio glanced up at him, dark eyes searching. “To what end would the next step be getting married at eighteen and nineteen? I can only think of a couple; none good.”

“He’ll be twenty in a couple of weeks or so.”

“Hmm.”

Salvatore tried not to roll his eyes, and seriously wished Giorgio would just let it go. But no, like a dog on the hunt, the man swore he found a bone. He would not be letting go until he dug the bone straight out of the body to which it belonged.

“I asked for them to wait until she turned twenty, anyway,” Salvatore lied, hoping it would end the issue.

Those two would be married before his grandchild came into the world. In no universe would someone feel permitted to call that baby a bastard because the parents lacked wedding rings and a legal document.

“Did you now?” Giorgio questioned.

“Well—”

“What does Carina think of...this business?” Giorgio cut in, unwilling to bend. Ever.

“She doesn’t have an opinion; she left before the engagement became official, anyway,” Salvatore lied easily.

He didn’t like liars; didn’t like being one. That’s what Giorgio made him, though. A liar.

“Yes, that does seem to be a cycle with the two of you, doesn’t it?”

Salvatore eyed the man in the chair; grateful he couldn’t be seen doing so. “What does that mean?”

“Don’t be daft,” the boss replied, “you know exactly what I’m talking about.”

“I don’t.”

Giorgio sighed deeply, clearly annoyed if the way he glanced up at Salvatore with a warning in his eyes gave any indication. “It’s been a decade of this bullshit between you and her. Wouldn’t catch me dead letting my wife parade around the world doing whatever the fuck she pleased whenever she got mad at me. No, I wouldn’t allow it. You thought I hadn’t noticed how you two only get a couple of good months before she’s on the warpath again?”

“My wife can do as she pleases, because she is my wife,” Salvatore replied, carefully choosing his words knowing it could make or break Giorgio’s mood. “That was the deal you and I made, correct? You got the baby, and I got the problem.”

He wanted to say woman, not problem.

But alas. Careful words for a careless man.

“Well, that she is. Your problem, I mean. Why didn’t you pass this through me, Sal?”

“I beg your pardon?”

“That,” Giorgio muttered heavily, his stare narrowing on the same spot his hand extended to gesture toward. Nico and Frankie now danced slower, but her back tucked against his chest as he slung both arms around her neck and spoke in her ear. Whatever he said, she smiled. “That is...”

Giorgio couldn’t seem to come up with appropriate words.

Salvatore cleared his throat and took a page from Carina’s book. “I think they’re in love.”

“You think?”

“Look at them and tell me what you see.”

“A boy that thinks with one head instead of two and a girl better suited to a man with higher standing.”