Total pages in book: 79
Estimated words: 73250 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 366(@200wpm)___ 293(@250wpm)___ 244(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 73250 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 366(@200wpm)___ 293(@250wpm)___ 244(@300wpm)
“Of course,” I replied, docile as a spring lamb.
He spared me once last glance, taking his time looking me up then down before opening the driver’s side door. “Come on.”
Nervous as hell, I let myself out and hopped down, smoothing out my dress. On shaking legs, I made my way over to him. We were toe-to-toe. I glanced up at him through my lashes, and he stared down at me. And then, he held out his hand. I took it immediately and when he curled his fingers around mine, I squeezed them back in return.
I had to admit, it felt a lot safer for a lamb to walk into a Lion’s den with the king of the jungle himself.
Instead of approaching the front door, Ettore led us around the house towards a side gate. He opened it and I followed him down the narrow path. We reached the backyard and Ettore walked us to the back of the house. I could hear people inside, but rather than entering through the sliding door, he brought us around to a second entrance. He opened the door slowly, quietly, and once we were inside, he peered down the hall, making sure we were alone. His odd behavior made it clear he didn’t want us to be seen just yet.
We followed the hall until there was nowhere else to go. Ettore lifted his free hand and knocked on the heavy looking, intricately carved mahogany door. Without waiting for a response, he placed his hand to the brass lever and pushed, letting us in.
The moment my eyes landed on Ettore’s father I had the weirdest feeling of déjà vu. The older man stood in the center of the home office with his hands behind his back, evidently waiting on us.
Ettore brought us forward then released my hand and stepped away. I twisted back in fear, and when I was reassured he wasn’t going far, I let out a breath, turning back to the head of the Scala family.
The moment he smiled I felt a weight lift off of my shoulders. He stepped towards me and, in a paternal gesture I’d sorely missed since the passing of my father, took both of my hands in his and held them firm. “Hello, Vittoria.”
My throat ached. “Hello,” I replied apprehensively.
“I’m Nunzio. We didn’t get a chance to chat yesterday.”
An uneasy chuckle escaped me. “My fault, I’m sure.”
His smile widened before he looked between Ettore and I. “Seeing as you’re both standing upright and breathing, I take it you have reached an understanding. Yes?”
The silence spoke volumes. Then Ettore uttered an unfeeling, “We’re working on it.”
Nunzio patted my hand. “That’s good. Very mature of the both of you. I’m impressed.” I wasn’t sure what to say when the older man said, “I hope my son is treating you well.”
I don’t know why it irked me, but it did. The protective need to stick up for my husband burned low in my gut. “He’s been the perfect gentleman.”
Nunzio snuffled out a laugh before reaching up to gently touch the bruises at my throat. He lost his smile, turned to his son and drew out the words long and slow. “Yes. I can see that.”
Well, hell.
Nunzio released my hand. “I’m so glad things have worked out. I know the rest of the family is simply dying to meet you.”
That statement came out sounding far too foreboding for my liking. “I’m eager to meet them too.”
“I’m sure you are. Welcome to the family, sweetheart.”
With that, Ettore placed his hand to my hip and guided me out. The closer we got to the opposite end of the hall, the louder the voices became and the tighter my chest got. Ettore didn’t hesitate when he walked us out into the fray of people. Once we were noticed, as one, they all stopped talking and turned to stare. I recognized a few of them. Ettore’s groomsmen were there, as was the middle-aged woman who walked me through the smashing of the vase. At least she looked happy to see us. She smiled happily and moved to greet us when two lightning-fast blurs hit Ettore at full force.
“Daddy!”
He groaned loudly before kneeling down to scoop the two miniature version of himself and for the first time since our official meeting yesterday, I saw what a genuine smile on Ettore Scala looked like.
Envy ate me whole. What I would have given to have him smile at me like that.
He kissed both of their heads then hugged them close. They hugged him right back and I did not miss the way his jaw flexed in pain when they squeezed him tight. It had to be agony and yet, he didn’t even flinch.
One boy spoke, “Dad, we got to stay up.”
Then the other, “And watch a movie.”
“We fell asleep on the floor.”