Page 58 of The Guardian

I knew he was serious and meeting the parents in my country meant he was very serious about the relationship. I was not sure about this being true in his country. I felt a pang at the thought of seeing my family again. I had waited for almost three years and soon, we would find out if they were even alive.

“I can see that you are afraid, Maya. Just know that …I will be there with you all through this.”

Tears filled my eyes. “Thank you, Henry. You know what?” I asked as I sniffled through my tears.

“What, sweet girl?”

“You are a knight.” I leaned forward and kissed his lips.

Chapter Nineteen: Bloody Angel

Henry

A couple of hours later…

We all sat in Mr. Mancini’s study and ate lunch. It was an awesome meal of course. Not entirely Italian as I expected but close. Sub sandwiches and meatball soup. The room itself was almost too intimidating to sit in, however. How could a room be intimidating, you ask? All mahogany wood. Leather chairs and a sofa, glass, brass fixtures and expensive looking paintings that I felt sure were originals. Mostly of Italy.

“I recognize Sicily,” Maya said and pointed at a painting as she gave Mr. Mancini a shy smile.

“Si!” He smiled back at her. “I was raised there. One of my closest friends painted them. She is talented, si?”

Nodding as she set her drink down, Maya agreed, “I think I saw her work in a gallery when I was just a kid. I truly believe I did as her paintings have this unique style. They stand out from the rest.”

“So you have been to Sicily?” he asked her while looking curious.

“I have. My father used to say, what loyal Italian would skip seeing Sicily?”

Mancini smiled broadly at her. The change it made to his austere face was absolutely astonishing. He looked friendly and warm.

“As the famous writer Goethe noted, ‘To have seen Italy without having seen Sicily is not to have seen Italy at all.’ And I could not agree more,” Maya gushed. “We only had three days and a person would need three weeks to simply start seeing all the glory of that island.”

Mancini set his coffee down and leaned forward to ask her, “How can a la signorina your age be so wise and good?”

Blinking at him, she replied. “Good? Maybe not. But the wise part I might agree with. I was a schoolteacher in Italy, signore.”

He waved his hand at her. “I can believe that. So intelligent. The kids told my wife that they learned three languages from you. Then I must say that you are familia now and as such, you must call me Alberto.”

Her eyes rounded at him.

I’m sure mine did too as I glanced at Rain to see he also looked stunned by this friendly and warm attitude from one of the most notorious Italian mobsters there ever was. Then again, this involved Maya and it should not have surprised us.

She gave him a very respectful nod. “Yes, Signore Alberto.”

He chuckled. “Bene, I can see why those kids are so smart and well behaved.” Mancini looked over at me and narrowed his eyes. “If you ever hurt this woman…you will not live to tell of it.”

I froze in the comfy leather chair I sat in and could not find my voice for a tense minute. Then I found myself declaring the truth, “Maya is the best thing I have ever been blessed with, Mr. Mancini. I intend to honor her and protect her with my life.”

Maya gasped from the chair beside me.

I did not look over at her as I met his eyes to be sure he could see my steady gaze.

He stared at me for another full minute, then he finally gave me a nod.

I tried hard not to exhale in total relief and slump in my chair, lest I would embarrass myself.

A knock sounded on the door.

“Entra!” Mancini called out.