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I leaned forward and nudged Genovesi’s shoulder. “Take the scenic route.”
“Yes, boss,” he replied with a nod, and I turned my full attention toward Marcella.
“I am yours to question.”
“What was it like growing up like…”
“Like the only child of a Don? I could say lonely, but I was rarely alone. There were nannies and educators, guards who pretended they weren’t watching my every movement, and at least seven guns hidden in my childhood bedroom that I knew how to use by the time I was ten.”
“Papà taught me how to use a gun.”
“Then your papà is a smart man.”
Just not smart with his money.
“I wasn’t allowed to leave the house, so you’ll excuse me if I believe you’re safer when you are at home.”
“I guess I can forgive you,” she said with a shrug, her lips turned upward in a soft smile. “When did your papà start…”
“Grooming me for the infamous Cortese throne? As soon as I could talk.”
“So…you didn’t have a childhood?”
I huffed. “If you consider arms training and ruthless negotiations tactics a childhood, then sure. But I don’t think you’ll believe a child should know how to dismember a body.”
Marcella grimaced. “Please don’t…”
I cut her off. “We’re two having girls. And then when they’re mostly grown, we’ll try again and have a boy, an heir, and he will be a child before he will be an underboss.”
That cheeky smile was back. “Tell that to my uterus.”
“I will,” I said, and bent to bury my face in her lap.
She laughed, the first big laugh I had the pleasure of hearing, and feebly pulled at my head. I mumbled my request to her pussy and then relented, allowing her to lift my face to hers.
“You’re insane, Matteo Cortese.”
“You’re right, Marcella Cortese. Hmm, I like the sound of that.”
“Marcella Moretti,” she corrected and tapped my nose. “I’m not a Cortese yet.”
“Yet.” I clung to the word and reached for her left hand and pressed a kiss to her palm up to her ring finger.
Flipping her hand over, I peered at the ring that I had been holding onto since I’d paid off Moretti’s debt. He told me her ring size, and I picked one up that I liked. But once I saw her, I realized it paled in comparison to the woman I would marry.
The fact that I didn’t present this to her the night I announced our engagement to the capos of our syndicate kind of pissed me off. She deserved better than this. She deserved a better ring, a better proposal, and a better fiancé.
“Do you like it?” I questioned after far too much silence.
Marcella smiled sweetly, and I wondered if she was about to lie or let me down easy. “I love it, Matteo. It’s beautiful.”
I wasn’t quite sure if I believed her. I ran my thumb over the two-carat solitaire oval diamond and pressed a kiss to the top of her hand.
I wondered if I should kiss her. This felt like a moment when I should kiss her, but we just kind of stared at each other.
She was scared. Of me. Of this.
Genovesi cleared his throat. “We’re here, boss.”
