Page 13 of Tangled Loyalties
"Yes. No one's going to believe we're married if we're not hosting Sunday dinner. Usually, it's at my father's house. My sister brings the kids… and whoever the macchia di merda wanted to impress while giving my father access to his political connections. At least one Sunday out of the month is huge. All the other days were just family."
"We can make that happen. My Zio's place on Staten Island is big enough for both families to get together. I'm sure he won't be against it since this treaty was his idea in the first place."
That strikes a nerve. "You didn't want to marry me?"
He tips his head with a glimmer of a smile. "Don't be that way, mio dolce. You know just as well as I do that if this marriage were one of our doing, all these rules and this awkward getting to know you stage would have passed long ago. Now, if we'd actually known each other and dated, there's a possibility it could have led to marriage. Either that or you'd be so horrified by what I like, you'd run screaming for the hills."
Flashes of the playroom make me shudder with angst and a hint of lust. Fantasies of us finishing that kiss make me wonder just how sordid his imagination can get. Maybe he's just trying to scare me away from pursuing the conversation. I don't know, and I'm happy to move on.
"I doubt that, but going to Staten Island can work. Maybe I can swing by Top Gott at some point to see my sister. Shit, I should have asked her if she wants the kids to come."
"I doubt that," Alessandro says between bites. He closes his eyes a moment, savoring the food and intuitively nodding his head that it's as delicious as I believe it is.
When I take a bite, it's normal. Sauteed chicken over linguini with a fresh cucumber bruschetta makes me moan with delight.
"Why wouldn't she?" I ask. Our eyes lock, and there's a question I can see in his eyes, but Alessandro doesn't ask me anything. He eats a few more bites, allowing this small achievement to wash over me. "I should have baked some garlic bread."
"Baked garlic bread? Here?" he asks with a chuckle.
"I mean, yeah, if I had the time, of course. I could always go to the store and buy a hero or baguette, but since I didn't plan on getting married today, I didn't exactly have my grocery list mapped out."
"I'm sorry, mio dolce. This was not the way you were supposed to be brought into this. Your father and Oz put this together, and I'm just being loyal to the Family. No matter how ridiculous I think it is. I—I mean, we—can make this work to our benefit."
"Dad said that Shana would have done it, no questions asked, and that's why he didn't bother to inform me."
"I think he didn't tell you because if he did, you would have gotten the fuck outta here. From the way this food tastes, I'm happy you didn't run off. I'm going to sleep good tonight."
"Speaking of sleep. I'm beat. What's the rules on that?" I ask him.
He clears the dishes and pulls open a dishwasher cleverly built into the island. Suddenly, it feels too real, too much like married life. Faint sounds of children being chased by their cousins, my niece and nephew, stampeding around the table with Shana yelling at them to slow down. Our parents talk about the old days as Lorenzo and Jenkins watch diligently from the kitchen. It's far too easy to picture us together.
"Mio dolce, you can sleep wherever you'd like, but I think you'd prefer the guest bedroom prepared for you. We don't want to complicate our marriage by sleeping together, right?"
The question lingers in the air like he's waiting for me to oppose the notion. It's only been a few hours and my mind is all over the place. I want to cook for Alessandro because I know he has no one to make this place feel like a home. I want to bolt through the door and run away from this city and this life because this isn't what family is supposed to do.
Arranged marriages happen all the time, but a surprise wedding to a handsome stranger isn't the norm. This is no time to fall for the son of another Don. I already feel the pressure of my father questioning my loyalty for simply wanting an explanation prior to saying 'I do.'
The last thing I want is to complicate things. "You're right. Marriage is about uniting two families to avoid mass destruction. It should never be about a man and woman sleeping together."
He stops clearing the dishes and wraps an arm around my waist with the strength of his body pulling me close. Calmness engulfs me. The danger exuding from Alessandro is frightening, and I wish for it to never be directed at me.
"Sarcasm is unnecessary, mio dolce. Appreciated, but unnecessary." His scent is a blend of soft citrus and cinnamon, searing itself into my memory as we stand in his kitchen.
The sound of his phone ringing pulls us out of whatever moment this is and takes him away from me. The departure of his energy is jarring because I never want him to let me go.
"Fuck. I'm coming. I'm coming. I'll take care of it." Alessandro pinches the bridge of his nose as he puts his phone on the island’s countertop.
"Is everything alright?"
"No," he grunts. "My father…"
My heart sinks, fearing the worst. If the De Luca family suffers a more permanent setback, this marriage might not be enough to keep our families out of the Montegnas’ line of fire. "What happened? Should I get Lorenzo?"
His expression is stoic, with that scar drawing my eyes to that side of his face as he reaches up to gently stroke mine. "I'll get Lorenzo. You should come with me. We have to get to the hospital before he kills somebody."
7
ALESSANDRO