She’s bought me shoes, a suit, and now another present in the short time that she’s known me.
I’m learning that the way she shows affection is gift giving and not just any sort of gifts but things that show I’m well taken care of.
Opening the box there is a watch inside, expensive with a burgundy face. But Ilaria is flipping it over showing me the inscription on the back.
‘“Do not be afraid; our fate
Cannot be taken from us; it is a gift.”
7-1-23’
I haven’t cried since I was a kid when Tomas Blaise hit me in the nuts with a hockey stick when we were playing street hockey. I had puked first and then fell over, tears burning my eyes from the pain.
Just like how now I can feel the way that tears are burning the corner of my eyes as I look at the watch Ilaria had gotten for me.
“Here.”
She’s taking it from me, her fingers working as she takes off my other watch, dropping it in her purse as she clasps it to my wrist, rubbing her thumb over it as if she is proud of it. Marking me with gifts as she possesses me like a little dragon.
My hand slides over her neck, clasping the back of her neck as I pull her to me, lips brushing hers in a soft kiss because I know she’ll complain if I dare smudge her makeup.
“How did I get so lucky with you?” I’m half asking myself but Ilaria tenses at my words.
Someone hurt my principessa and made her unsure of how to accept kindness. I’ll carve their tongue from their mouth and write their apology for it in a card made of their skin, word signed in blood so she understands the sincerity of it.
She will learn how to be loved under my hands.
“You signed on the dotted line and poof, yours.”
She’s teasing in that flippant tone of hers again but there is a bite in her words and I’m looking at her wondering if this marriage isn’t the happy ending she had wanted for herself.
I’ve worked hard at everything in my life and getting Ilaria to love me might be the hardest job I ever faced.
“Thank you for the watch, principessa. Thank you for-”
“Stop thanking me so much. Fuck.”
She rolls her shoulders as she steps away from me and I’m hyper aware of how she reacts in situations she’s unsure of.
Watching her look around as she tries to think of a suitable way to change the subject and minimize the kind things she’s done.
Ilaria treats me with gifts she thinks I deserve and yet she can’t handle the appreciation I have for her gifts. I’ll get her to understand but for now I’d avoid the fight and get her on something else.
“Why don’t I give you a tour?”
Offering my arm she slides hers through mine and I know that I’m going to have the prettiest girl on my arm tonight. For the rest of my life.
She’s so warm against me and I finally feel like I can breathe, relaxing as she is beside me and knowing that this night is going to be one of the best of my life.
14ILARIA
Dante’s Inferno is packed.
I lost my fiancée thirty minutes ago when he was pulled away to talk business with men who didn’t seem to be here with legitimate things. But Dante didn’t have to make excuses for what he was doing, I played my part and kissed his cheek before drifting off to talk to everyone and thank them for coming.
Being a mafia wife meant being a good actress and I was working on my Oscar nomination tonight.
My eyes scanned the bar area, landing on my friends and breathing a sigh of relief as I slipped onto the stool between Tessa and Sammie.
The bartender brings me an espresso martini as soon as I’m seated and I’m chugging it before he even has a chance to turn around, which is good because he can make me another.
“We want to go downstairs. Sammie heard someone talking about there being an illegal casino below us.”
Jesus Fucking Christ.
“Can we get a round of shots?” I call to the bartender because the only way I’m going to be able to deal with my curious friends is by getting so drunk that I need to be tucked into bed tonight.
Dante wouldn’t like that.
Fuck.
My friends would get me home though.
Why did I care what Dante wanted?
But I knew why. It was his night, he had worked hard for this and he wanted to have everything run smoothly.
We had already done the pictures with our families and had taken a dozen pictures of us cutting a ribbon because Dante insisted we do it together, whispering some romantic notion in my ear about how this was the first building of our empire.
He looked too good tonight.
All that dark hair and dark eyes in the burgundy, like he had danced out of the flames of hell. If he would grow a five o’clock shadow that man might convince we to trade in my-
NOPE.
I grabbed Sammie’s drink, tossing back the gin and tonic without even thinking about it, breathing heavily as I looked at the shots that were being laid out in front of us.
“Who is Dante talking to?” I looked at Maddie, watching her point to where my fiancée was currently half hiding in a corner, his arm around a girl that looked oddly familiar.
His left hand rested on her hip as she looked up at him, twirling one of her blonde curls as she flirted very openly with the man I was supposed to marry in a few weeks. Neither of them seemed to care that I was there.
And then it hit me.
Gabriella DeLuiso. Dante’s ex-girlfriend.
I had done some extensive web sleuthing when I had gotten home. Deep dives of his social media, trying to learn as much about I could about him. Which included the blonde he was currently talking to.
