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In the morning, I woke up to find clothes outside my door. They were his sweats and they were much too big, but they were better than wearing my dress again. I found him in the kitchen, pot of coffee made, cooking breakfast.
That was when he proposed.
“I know it’s crazy,” he said. “But think about it. If we get married, my family can protect us.”
“Why do we need to get married for that?” I said. “Why can’t we just—” I stopped and shrugged. “I don’t know, not get married?”
“We could,” he said, nodding, and plated the eggs. He brought them over, and I wanted to be mad and refuse to eat, but they smelled good and I was actually starving. Plus, he was a shockingly good cook.
A good cook, loved to grow plants, and a killer for the mob. I didn’t understand this man, not even a little bit.
“So then why get married?” I asked, digging in.
He sat across from me and watched, barely touching his food. “Do you know how many people have died in this war?” he asked softly.
“No,” I said, but I knew it was a lot. I’d been to way too many funerals over the last few years.
“The families are going to keep killing each other,” he said softly. “They’ll keep on murdering each other until only one of them is standing. Do you really want that?”
“Of course not,” I said. “But what’s that have to do with me? I’m nothing and nobody.”
“You represent the end,” he said. “That baby in there? That’s half Valentino and half Healy.”
I snorted and shook my head. “My family won’t give a shit about our marriage. They’ll call me a traitor and keep on killing. We can’t change anything.”
“But what if we can?” he pressed. “Don Valentino wants us to get married for his own selfish reasons, but what if we can convince him that ending the war is the more profitable course? He said if we get married, we can go live in the mansion with him until things blow over. There’s nowhere safer in the entire world.”
It was tempting. I’d heard stories about the Valentino mansion, how it was hidden in a magical forest protected by fairies and monsters and demons and shit like that, which of course wasn’t true. Although the Don probably did have some guys with machine guns hidden in the trees.
“How do I know he’s not trying to use me? How do I know you’re not doing the same thing?”
He leaned forward. “The only thing I want is for you to be safe,” he said softly. “Do you understand? I’m not in this for anything. I don’t give a damn if we keep fighting or if we stop. Nothing matters to me but you and that baby.”
I looked away. Sometimes he was too intense and I was afraid that I’d start liking the attention if I tried to hold his gaze for too long.
“But your Don.”
“He’ll use you if you let him.” Matteo shrugged and sat back. “I’ll try to stop him, but I don’t have much power.”
“I have to think about this. I don’t know what to do.”
“I won’t force you. If you want to go home, I’ll drive you myself, but good luck explaining to your father why you got into a truck with a guy that beat up four Healy goons.”
I smiled slightly and wiped at my face with both hands. “God, this is awful,” I said and laughed. “What a terrible spot. I can either go marry a total stranger and live in some mansion, or I can go home and face my father’s wrath.”
“Don’t forget that you need to consider what’s best for that baby.”
I chewed on my lip and pressed a hand against my belly. He was right—so far I’d only been thinking like a normal person, but I wasn’t normal anymore. I was going to be a mother, and I had this baby to take care of whether I liked it or not.
I never asked for it, never wanted it, but I was pregnant, and I had to start acting like it.
“I want to talk to Nessa,” I said suddenly. “I don’t want to go home. But at least let me talk to her.”
“Whatever you want,” he said, spreading his hands. Then added, “But I don’t know who that is.”
“The girl I walked in with, back at the bar,” I said. “Remember her?”
“Right,” he said, nodding. “Okay. You think that’s safe?”
“She’s my best friend,” I said, and had never honestly considered that it might not be. I could trust Nessa though, even if she was a hardcore Healy supporter. I just wouldn’t tell her that Matteo was Valentino.
Leaving that out didn’t feel great, and it made me understand why he hadn’t said anything to begin with.
“Set it up then,” he said and we finished our meal without talking much as I texted back and forth with Nessa.
