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He’s waiting downstairs for me, as I requested. He nods as I walk down the hall to meet him, unlocking the door to my office and gesturing for him to follow me inside.
“Are there any recent threats?” I ask, without preamble, and he shakes his head.
“Since you and Igor came to an agreement, nothing. Everything indicates that they’ve backed off. None of my men have seen anyone scouting around, and we haven’t received any communications or heard anything over the tapped channels that suggests they’re being sent in to try to scope out the grounds, or look for ways to get in.”
“I want security heightened, still. Back to what it was right after the wedding, and eyes on Gia at all times. We have a month until the wedding that solidifies all of this—that’s plenty of time for them to change their minds or get other ideas in their heads. Understood?”
Josef nods. “Understood, boss. No one will get near her; I promise you that.”
I believe him. Josef is exceptional at his job, and there’s no one I’d rather have looking out for Gia. But still, I can’t entirely feel safe until I know for certain that the deal is finished and done. And the only thing that will solidify that is this new treaty that’s been arranged.
I feel for Bella. I know very well that I’m sending her to marry the man that I wouldn’t allow Gia to be wed to, and I’m not insensible to the fact that it’s my lack of emotional attachment to Bella that allows that to happen. But I’ve done all I can to ensure Bella’s safety within the marriage, and I can’t change our entire world overnight. I can only be sure that I can make it better for Gia and our family.
Letting out a long breath, I tell Josef goodnight, and head upstairs to join Gia. More than anything else right now, I need a good night’s sleep.
—
I don’t see Gia again until the next evening. I had to leave early in the morning to handle work, before she was awake, and I don’t get back home until dinnertime. She’s not in our bedroom when I go up to change, and to my surprise, I find her already in the dining room when I walk in, the table set for us with candles burning in the center and a decanter of red wine waiting.
She stands as I walk into the room, and my heart flips in my chest. She looks utterly gorgeous in a cherry-red skirt with a fluted hem and a sleeveless cream-colored silk blouse, her long dark hair falling thick and silky around her shoulders. She smiles as I walk in, and my heart slams into my ribs again, as I realize that this is the first time I’ve ever walked into this room and had her look at me this way.
It makes me want to sit her on the edge of the table and have my dessert first, instead of dinner.
“What’s all this?” I tease her lightly as she walks towards me, resting her hands on my chest as she leans up to kiss me. “And what did you do with my stubborn, willful wife?”
Gia wrinkles her nose at me. “I wanted to do something nice for you. But I can always take it back if you keep that up.”
“I wouldn’t dream of it.” I kiss her again, before going to sit down. “What did you do?”
“I planned a dinner for you. Frances tried to tell me what foods you liked and what your preferences were for weekly menus, when I first moved in. And, of course, I told her I didn’t care,” Gia admits sheepishly. “I wanted to make it up to you.”
“I didn’t know anything about that.” No one told me, probably because none of the staff wanted to interject themselves in my marital troubles—understandably. But I’m curious to see what Gia has come up with.
“I know. But I still wanted to do it.” Gia motions to the decanter of wine as she sits down. “Frances suggested your favorites, and what to pair it with, and I picked one. I never really paid attention to all of that, but I’m willing to learn, so I can handle those dinner parties and such that you were talking about.”
She gives me a hesitant look, and I smile reassuringly at her. I know she’s thinking about all of the times that I told her that her education as a mafia wife was lacking, and I feel bad about that now, knowing her better. But her willingness to make an effort all the same touches me, and I reach out, squeezing her hand lightly.
“I’m afraid being a husband isn’t something I have experience with. But we’ll figure it out together.”
I can feel Gia relax into my touch, and I reach for the wine, pouring us each a glass. “What else did you do today?”
Gia smiles hesitantly, glancing over as one of the staff brings in the first course—a Caesar salad with Frances’ homemade dressing. “You said I could redecorate if I wanted. I started looking into some options for the informal living room and our bedroom, to start. Something to make them a little lighter and airier. The living room, for example, has those high ceilings and big windows, but the colors make it seem dark and small?—”
I’m listening to her as well as I can, but the way she so casually says our bedroom catches me, making it hard for me to focus on anything else. A week ago, I know she wouldn’t have said it so easily. She likely wouldn’t have said it at all. And the way hearing it makes me feel—as if my heart is lighter and the future seems open and full of possibility—makes me willing to do anything necessary to ensure that Gia remains happy.
That she remains happy with me.
“You can do whatever you want,” I assure her. “Spend whatever you like on decorating, re-do the mansion to your heart’s content. I paid a decorator for it all the first time around, and I don’t have any attachment to any rooms outside of my office. The rest of it is free for you to do whatever you please.”
“There’s a small room across the hall from ours.” Gia bites her lip. “I know there’s no solid reason to yet, but I want to turn it into a nursery.”
My heart flips in my chest again, a mixture of tenderness and desire flooding me at her eagerness to prepare for the family we’ll have together—a family that I’m now anticipating, instead of dreading.
“I like the sound of that, tesoro,” I murmur, picking up my fork. “And I’m looking forward to seeing what you do with it.”
“What about you?” Gia looks at me, taking a bite of her salad. “Is everything still going ahead with the Bratva?”
I can hear the note of worry in her voice—likely the same worry that concerns me, that the deal will fall through in some way or Igor will change his mind. But I want to reassure her, and I nod, choosing not to share my own worries.
