Total pages in book: 36
Estimated words: 34419 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 172(@200wpm)___ 138(@250wpm)___ 115(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 34419 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 172(@200wpm)___ 138(@250wpm)___ 115(@300wpm)
Sarica looks down on her phone while Giancarlo carefully avoids my gaze, and Massimo checks his watch as if he suddenly has somewhere to go. Only La Strega looks at me in the eye...before saying rather baldly, "You're a good girl, bambina...but why on earth did you even think my grandson would ask you to look for some duck in the middle of a shootout?"
This time, none of his family even bothers to cough. Sarica is already doubled over in laughter while Massimo snickers and even Mr.-So-Called-Perfect himself is not so perfect with his barely suppressed smile.
Cesare, however, only cups my face. "Ignore them, tesoro. You are adorable as you are—-"
"Are you really sure you don't mean silly?"
"Well—-"
I try jumping off his lap, but this only has him chuckling as he tightens his arms around mine.
"Do not ever change, mm?"
"It seems you will make a doting husband," La Strega remarks with a strangely crafty gleam in her witchy dark eyes.
"Sì, Nonna."
Am I imagining things...or has Cesare's voice become a little too silky?
"I intend to dote on Penelope for the rest of our lives, but not as her husband."
His grandmother stiffens. "Chiedo scusa?"
The anger in her gaze is unmistakable, and I remember all too late that it's La Strega and not just a normal grandmother I'm talking to.
"It's r-really not as bad as you think it is," I point out in a hurry. "Cesare and I will still marry, but we also have a misunderstanding—-I mean, an understanding—-"
Shit, I feel like I'm digging a deeper hole for myself here.
"What is it, really?" the older woman asks impatiently.
"There is no need to raise your voice at her," Cesare says between clenched teeth.
"Then you be the one to explain," his grandmother snaps back at him. "What is all this nonsense—-"
Not wanting the two of them to get into a full-blown quarrel, I take a deep breath and say in a rush, "We're each other's owners!"
Silence.
"T-That's how we agreed to consider each other once we marry. A-As owners..."
More silence.
Oh, shit.
Just when I start feeling sick at the possibility that I might've made things worse, Sarica suddenly flashes a smile, saying brightly, "I like that." And her alluring cat-like eyes then turn to Cesare's oldest brother as she asks, "How about it, signore? As your owner, I'd like you to dye your hair the same color as mine—-"
"Over my fucking dead body...signorina."
The contrast between his words and courteous tone is exactly what we all need to hear, and I can only mentally sigh in relief as the tension in the room instantly evaporates, and I even see La Strega shaking her head at Sarica with exasperated affection.
Private catering takes care of dinner later on, and all of my troubles temporarily fade as the warmth of Cesare's family wraps around me like a cozy embrace.
Massimo promises to take me out to meet some girl named Ynez just as La Strega imperiously asks me to start calling her 'nonna' while Sarica argues with Giancarlo about the number of bodyguards he intends to assign for both his fiancée and me.
And when I glance at Cesare and catch him looking at me like he wants to chain me to him for all eternity—-
Shit, oh shit.
I'm not sure if this has to do with how I almost died...or how I've taken another person's life, but my feelings for a certain mafia boss are suddenly painfully clear.
Chapter Eleven
Cesare
WHILE MOST OF HIS FAMILY left right after dinner, he was not surprised when Massimo opted to stay behind...and his brother wasted no time in confronting him as soon as they were alone in his office.
"Explain to me what you're doing, fratello."
"Is it not obvious enough?"
"All that's obvious to me is how you've convinced an eighteen-year-old girl to truly believe it's actually a good thing for married couples to see themselves as each other's owners."
"We're famiglia," Cesare said flatly. "The fewer people we trust, the better—-"
"And so you are choosing not to trust your own fidanzata?"
"She is not our blood—-"
Massimo threw his brother a look of disgust. "Porca miseria, Cesare! We both know I have more experience with women so damn greedy they wouldn't think twice about selling their own sons for the right price—-" His own past came to haunt him, and his jaw clenched. "So trust me when I say that Penelope is not and can never be the type to let you down."
Cesare bit back an expletive upon hearing his brother's words.
Fuck.
Massimo's mother was a Vegas stripper who had not hesitated to use her own son as a bargaining chip every time she needed to ask money from the Marchettis—-and asshole that he was, he had not realized how his treatment of Penelope might end up reminding Massimo of his parent.
"Mi dispiace—-"
"You do not owe me an apology," Massimo said quietly, "but it would make me feel better if you just stop lying to yourself. Being famiglia also means we learn early about the nature of humans, and you and I know Penelope has not an evil bone in her body."