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“To force me to marry you. And then the next day, he was trying to have you killed.”
“Damn. That one must have stung.”
It hits me in that moment that it’s only been two days since Alessandro’s grandfather was murdered. “Oh my god, I just realized. Your grandfather. I’m so sorry. How are you doing?”
But when he looks at me, his eyes are cold. “I’m doing fine.” He gets up from the bed, taking away the warm cuddles. “I’m going to hit the hotel gym.”
“What? But what about dessert?”
He barely glances back at me as he throws on a pair of shorts and leaves the room. “Get whatever you want.”
What I wanted was to share it with him. But whatever closeness we just built seems to be gone. I lie back in bed, dejected.
Then I order the cream pie.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Ava
The next morning, Alessandro wakes up before me and I hear him taking a phone call in the other room. His trip to the “gym” last night lasted nearly 3 hours. Long enough that when he got back, I was already in bed. I still don’t exactly know what I did wrong, but I won’t be asking about his grandfather’s death again, that’s for sure.
The phone call sounds serious. I get up and hop in the shower, and when I get out, I see that he’s ordered crêpes for breakfast.
“Strawberry-Nutella or banana-brown sugar?” he asks, holding out two plates.
I take one of them. “Strawberry-Nutella, obviously. Why did you even get the other one?”
He shrugs. “I like banana. Ever had bananas foster? Pretty amazing.”
“You and your penis-themed desserts. I’ll eat my strawberry crêpe like the innocent girl I am.”
Alessandro hits me with the bedroom eyes. “My dear, you and I both know that you’re far from innocent. I’ve made sure of that.”
I dig into my breakfast, and it’s just as good as it sounds. “Mmm. So is this your way of apologizing for last night?”
An emotion I can’t read flashes across his face, and he ignores my question. “There’s something we need to do today.”
I blink.“‘We?’”
“Yes, ‘we’. You’re not just a trophy wife, remember? I married you so I could take over the Gagliardi family.”
“Well, aren’t you romantic.”
“I never claimed to be. This is business, unfortunately.”
Okay. Business it is. I straighten up, putting my plate down on the coffee table. “All right. What are we doing?”
Alessandro takes a deep breath. “I need to convince your father’s capos that I didn’t rat him out to the FBI.”
“And what does that entail?”
“My Uncle Sal arranged a meeting between me and the top Gagliardi captain. Are you familiar with Giovanni Lombardo?”
I wince. “Gio the Butcher? Yeah, I know him. Unfortunately.”
My husband chuckles. “Dominic told me you’d have that reaction. I don’t think I’ve met him. What’s he like?”
“Well, you have to know his reputation.”
