But I don’t give a shit about the crown.
“I haven’t been chasing that thing for a long time now,” I tell her, my self-pity slowly evaporating as the importance of her gesture dawns on me.
“Then what have you been chasing?” she asks, a small smile lifting her pretty red lips.
I know what she wants to hear.
The truth.
I give it to her.
“You.”
An unmistakable sigh floats from Rozalia's lips. I lean forward, desperate to drink it in. I’m already starting to feel better when the waiter returns.
“There are more appetizers on the way. Would you like me to—”
Before he can finish, I wave him off.
“I’ll call for you when we’re ready for the next round,” I say. “But you can take these plates. Thank you.”
“Yes, sir.”
When the plates are cleared, I pick up my long-lost crown and place it in the middle of the table, like it was always meant to be there. The centerpiece.
But it’s not because I’m showing the thing off. It’s not even that I’m glad to have it back.
It’s a message.
Looking over my shoulder, I scan the dining hall below. Everyone averts their gaze.
Everyone except the Italians.
They’re too shocked to look away.
Leo Camporese and Adriano Sabatino both gape at me, completely staggered by the sight.
They both must be thinking the exact same thing.
I’m their king—whether they like it or not.
And Rozalia is my queen.
I’ve done what I promised I was going to do.
“Don’t you want to hear my confession?” Rozalia asks, when I finally get my fill of the two bumbling dons and turn back to face her.
“Your confession?” I ask, still half-lost in my own head.
“Something I’ve never told anyone before.”
Slowly, I come back down to earth.
“You already did that,” I remind her. “This is your first date, I was listening.
“No,” Rozalia says, shaking her head. “Well, yes. That’s true. But it hardly compares to your thing.”
The main green gemstone on my crown sparkles against the chandelier above us. But not even the brightest diamond in the world could turn my attention away from the woman sitting across from me.