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And in my case, for better or for worse, that would have to involve...him.
I fight off the urge to squirm when I realize he's been staring at me all this time.
I wish there was a way I could tell what he's thinking, but his eyes reveal nothing at all, and it's making me feel nervous.
I'm sure he's noticed me standing next to Sarica earlier. What if he thinks he's married the wrong Marchetti or almost-Marchetti? I honestly believe Sarica's one of the most beautiful girls in the world. Can I blame Lorenzo if—-
Oh!
The rest of my thoughts are all but forgotten when familiar views outside the car windows catch my attention.
Why has he taken me back to my grandmother's home?
"The rest of your famiglia shall join us shortly."
People often say I look so shy, and it's true. But most of them never realize that my shyness is also a mask.
Unlike him.
Is he really that good at reading people's thoughts or is it just mine that's exceptionally keen at decoding?
"We're to wait for them in your grandmother's study."
He speaks as if everything's been pre-arranged, and the words are out of my mouth before I even realize what I'm asking.
"Are we truly married?"
"Sì."
I can't recall ever signing anything to support this, but knowing how my grandmother just loves to surprise us grandchildren with the marriages she's arranged, I have no doubt it's the truth.
I'm tempted to ask him so many more questions, but my courage fails me, and I feel shamefully relieved when his car finally rolls to a stop at that moment.
He helps me out, and my heart skips a beat. Will I ever get used to the heat of his touch? And the strength of it?
Lorenzo turns to me.
More seconds pass.
"The study."
Oh, right, someone please slap some sense into me!
"Um, yes, this way, please."
I can't remember ever feeling this flustered as I led him to my grandmother's second-floor study. The entire staff has been on high alert since that day, and there's security wherever I look. It can be rather terrifying to take in for most people, but for me it's just plain embarrassing.
This is not funny, you guys!
Our staff has been with our famiglia even before I was born. They've all seen me grow up, and I've seen how all of them have also gradually overcome the darkness of their past. We know each other pretty well, and that's why I can totally see past their poker-faced expressions.
Not one of you is convincing! Not one!
I'm absolutely sure all of them are secretly amused at my expense. They think it's a hoot that I feel flustered around Lorenzo Anghileri, and as soon as the next shift comes in, all of these guys are guaranteed to start swapping stories about me like an armed brood of gossipping hens.
Grrrr!
Why can't these guys be more like those overprotective men I read about all the time in mafia romances? They're supposed to not like that I'm self-conscious around another man. They're supposed to warn Lorenzo against hurting me. They're supposed to do everything but silently laugh at me!
