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"I'm not sure," I frown, thinking of how to breach this topic with her.
"Well, in case not, should I reach out to some of the cemeteries?"
I imagine the effect that would have on Tatiana, her parents lying in the cold, dark ground next to strangers. "No," I say hoarsely. "Allow me to check if we can make space in the family compound," I instruct.
There's silence on the other end. This request is a rare, perhaps unprecedented one. "You stay safe, son," says Uncle Carlo. "And perhaps, with time, we might hear wedding bells in the future." He knows me too well. I smile, say nothing, and hang up.
Satisfied with the funeral arrangements, I make my way back to the bedroom, careful to close the door quietly behind me. My gaze drifts back to the bed where Tatiana still sleeps. Her chest rises and falls gently beneath the silken sheets.
Tatiana's eyes flutter open as I set my phone back on the nightstand. For a moment, she looks confused, her gaze searching the unfamiliar room. Then her eyes met mine, and memory came rushing back.
"Philippe..." she says softly.
I give her a gentle smile. "Good morning. I'm sorry if I woke you."
She shakes her head, sitting up in the rumpled sheets. I can't help but notice how the thin fabric of her camisole clings alluringly to her curves.
"What time is it?" she asks.
"Nearly nine," I reply.
Her eyes go wide. "That late? I can't believe I slept so long."
"You needed the rest after..." I trail off, not wanting to remind her of the trauma.
A shadow crosses her face. More than forty-eight hours have passed since her parents were murdered, but the rawness of hergrief is still etched into her delicate features. She takes a shaky breath. "Have there been any leads on who did this?"
I shake my head. "Not yet. But my men are searching tirelessly for answers."
"Thank you," she says softly.
I rise from the bed. "Why don't you get a shower? I'll have the cook prepare something in the meantime."
She nods, and I turn to go, but not before giving her a quick kiss. “Meet me in the dining room when you’re ready.”
Chapter 24
Tatiana
I shower, letting the hot beads drip down my back. I stand there longer than necessary, but I’m focusing on the little things that make me feel good. Showering is one of them. Each time I bathe, I imagine washing their blood off me. The water turns cold, forcing me to get dressed.
I walk through Philippe’s mansion to the dining room, where I find him alone. “Where’s the staff?” I ask, looking around curiously.
“I thought I’d cook you breakfast myself,” he smiles, dishing a steaming omelet onto a plate and handing it to me.
My heart melts. Don Philippe Accardo, who has a million responsibilities that came along with that title, is choosing to stay here by my side to cook me breakfast. Under normalcircumstances, I’d call myself the luckiest girl in the world, but I don’t feel it.
I stare down at the untouched omelet on my plate as Philippe reaches across the table to fill my coffee cup. The rich aroma does little to tempt my empty stomach.
"You should eat something,amore mio," he says gently. "You need your strength right now."
I nod numbly, poking at the fluffy eggs with my fork. Philippe sits down opposite me and begins digging in.
"I know this is a difficult conversation to have, but there are decisions to be made," Philippe continues gently. "The forensics is complete. It is time to plan the funeral and notify people. Let me handle everything, Tatiana. Just give me the list of those you want to attend, and I'll take care of the rest. I was thinking, if you’d prefer something more private, we can start a plot here for your family, and you can visit them whenever you like … no matter what the future holds."
His offer catches me off guard. Is he offering me land where I can bury my parents? On the one hand, it's thoughtful of him to spare me the burden of planning my own parents' funeral. But something about handing over control feels wrong. This is my last chance to honor them on my terms.
I'm torn between gratitude for Philippe's gesture and anger at the thought of him taking over. My parents were never a part of this dark underworld he inhabits. They deserve better than to belaid to rest in some mafia family plot, surrounded by men with blood on their hands.
