Page 180 of Mafia And Maid
Camillo tugs my hand again and guides me further into the kitchen. I don’t miss the red on the edges of his ears as he does so.
He inhales deeply, shifting from foot to foot before turning to face me. “I can see now that this, uh, probably wasn’t the best idea. I’ll clean it up, Rosa. I promise.”
I can only nod, too shocked to do anything more.
He steps to the side, revealing cupcakes arranged on a tray. The frosting is a bit messy and sliding off some places, but they smell heavenly.
“You made me cupcakes?”
“They’re your favorite.”
I step closer, reaching out to take one.
My hand freezes midair as I catch the writing over the top of them.
My brain forgets to work.
My lungs forget they need oxygen.
And my whole world tilts on its axis and almost topples right over.
Because there are twenty-seven cupcakes.
And twenty-six of them have a letter iced on them.
While the very last cupcake is iced with a question mark…
And they spell out the most beautiful sentence I’ve ever seen.
They say:I love you, Rosa. Will you marry me?
“W-what?” Surely, I read that wrong. It can’t be…?
Tears blur my vision as I turn back toward Camillo when he doesn’t say anything.
But the space where he stood is empty.
Instead, he’s kneeling on the ground, a ring in his hands.
I gasp, covering my mouth.
His eyes spear me with a look that warms my entire body. It’s the same look he gives me when he doesn’t think I’m looking. One full of raw emotion and love. Like I’m the only thing he’ll ever want in life. Like I’m his saving grace.
When in reality, he’s mine.
“You’re serious?” I choke out.
He nods. “Like a fucking heart attack, baby.” Another deep inhale from him. “And I could have done a million more romantic things, but none of them felt more like me and you. You’ve done more for me than you’ll ever know. And I might not be perfect, but I’ll die trying before ever letting you go. So, will you do it, Rosa? Will you marry me?”
I can’t speak for a few moments.
Is this really happening?
“Oh my God. Yes, yes,yes,” I say with a watery laugh. “But only if you promise not to bake ever again without supervision.”
His deep chuckle fills the room. “Deal.” His hand trembles just slightly as he stands and slides the ring onto my finger. He leans closer, his lips brushing the shell of my ear.
I look down, my gaze wide at the glossy platinum band and the glittering pear-shaped diamond which is positioned between several smaller round diamonds. It’s utterly breathtaking. I swallow back a sob. No one has ever gone to such lengths for me.