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Still, he has at least allowed me to talk to her, so I wait out front with some of my men. More and more of my family arrive, and I happily laugh and greet cousins and in-laws. Then I spot their car, and my attention is instantly captured.
Ivan gets out of the car first, then helps my sister Tori before Anastasia climbs out, unaided as usual. She has changed her clothes since lunch, but her hair is still curled and frames her face. She smiles brightly as though she knows an inside joke no one else can know.
I walk forward as casually as I can, stopping first to greet Ivan out of respect as the head of his family. “Hello, Familia.”
Ivan shakes my head, smiling at first until he follows my glance and notices I’m looking at Anastasia. Coincidentally, his grip on my hand tightens slightly for a moment before he lets go. “I will go find Alessandro.”
Tori smiles and comes forward, kissing each of my cheeks. “Hello, Fratello.”
I tickle Roman in her arms, so he squirms. “Hello, little nipote.”
Tori smiles. “I better catch up with Ivan.”
“I was just going to escort Anastasia to where we’re sitting tonight.” I smile at the young princess behind Tori. Ana rolls her eyes at me with a playful smile.
“You two sitting together again? Just remember your place.”
Tori says it with a smile, but I know she’s warning me. Instead of heeding her, I offer Anastasia my arm, and as promised, I escort her through the house to the back garden, where we sit along the middle of the table.
“Buonasera, Ana,” I say as she sits down, and I push her chair in. “I hope you’re having a lovely evening.”
“Dobbry vecher, Luigi,” she says, glancing at me. “I’ve only just arrived, so who knows how the evening will go.”’
“Well, we’re together. I’m sure we can rustle up some mischief,” I chuckle.
“Oh really?” she shakes her head. “I don’t think this is the place, or families, to rustle up mischief with.”
“Maybe,” I grin and then see Ivan glaring at me. I try not to laugh as I look back at Ana, trying to be more casual.
Chapter 5 - Anastasia
Ah, the man-child that is Luigi Sorvino. I roll my eyes when he says he is there to escort me to our seats. I play along, though, acting as the little bratva princess that I am.
There are times that I speak to him, and he completely exhausts and irritates me. He’s a playboy, and he knows it, flirtatious and good-looking but a braggart.
Then there are times the handsome devil makes me laugh. I mean, laugh so hard that I forget life’s shortcomings and problems for a while and just feel free.
Tonight he looks to be in a mischievous and entertaining mood which will hopefully calm my nerves. I can feel the weight of the gun strapped to my leg, and I feel uneasy as I sit at the table.
How would I explain to everyone here why I have a weapon strapped to me? Lord, please don’t let anyone notice. My father would be furious.
I glance around at who has already arrived and note we are still waiting for a few people.
Luigi draws my attention to him when he asks me, “How was your day? I passed you in the city today, going to lunch, and I see you were meeting friends.”
I raise an eyebrow. “Are you stalking me now?” It’s an innocent enough question.
Luigi laughs. “No, sorry. I don’t have that much time on my hands.” He leans in. “I think I know your friends, though. I’m almost sure I’ve met them before. What are their names?’
I give a quick, short “ha” of a laugh and follow it with, “Don’t act like you’re this sweet innocent person, Luigi Sorvino. If I told you their names, you still wouldn’t put two and two together because you can’t keep track of the girls you bed.”
Luigi has the grace to blush and grin at me. “Well, when you say it like that. Ana.”
“Am I wrong?” I ask, raising an eyebrow knowingly.
“I’m just searching for the right woman to settle down with, you know? You can’t tell me what the best cheese is if you haven’t sampled all the flavors!” Luigi chuckles, his arm casually draped over the back of my chair.
I nod as though some wise knowledge was sarcastically thrust upon me. “Ah, I see. And in a couple of years when your various…” I pause, “flavors,” I smile, “come up and say these tiny cocktail cheeses belong to you. What will you do then? Assuming you’ve found the best cheese.”
