Total pages in book: 27
Estimated words: 27333 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 137(@200wpm)___ 109(@250wpm)___ 91(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 27333 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 137(@200wpm)___ 109(@250wpm)___ 91(@300wpm)
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!
How can they not know that?
We finally reach the study, and I realize there's at least one good thing that came out of our staff's not-so-proper attitude towards Lorenzo. They've had me so busy grumbling that I forgot to be nervous around him. But now that it's just the two of us alone...
My heart gallops away like a horse struck by lightning as I watch Lorenzo close the door behind him.
I can't believe this man is really my husband.
I've known for years, of course, that he was my nonna's choice, but it was like knowing how we'd all die someday. It was a knowledge that didn't feel real until it was about to happen—-or has already happened, as it was in my case.
Lorenzo turns to me, and when I see him glance at the couch, I realize something new about him.
Does he not like to talk much?
He gestures for me to sit down, but when I do, he chooses to remain on his feet, his back against the wall, but with a view of every point of entry. I almost feel like I'm with my bodyguard than my husband, and I'm not sure how to feel about that.
Come to think of it, I don't even know how to feel about him at all.
But I have no time to figure it out since the rest of my famiglia has already started arriving, and it's so, so annoyingly easy to tell that they've come to the same conclusion I have.
Grrrrrrrr.
They're very polite about it, of course. They glance at Lorenzo standing behind me, and then they take their seats, and not even the normally blunt Sarica says a word. Manners mean everything to our famiglia, after all.
But they still don't have me fooled.
Because I can see in their eyes they're just like the rest of the staff, and they're all dying to have one private moment.
Just one moment where they can laugh at me, the traitors.
It makes me want to strangle all of them, one by one.
But at the same time, it makes me want to throw my arms around Lorenzo and just say...
Thank you.
Because ever since that day, none of us—-
Not one of us—-
None of us had found any reason to even smile.
Until now.
And so even if it's at my expense—-
I'll take it.
Because we believe Giancarlo is still alive.
And it's time, it's truly time that we start acting like it.
Journal Entry
I don't know what to make of him.
His words make it seem he's made of stone.
But his actions speak otherwise.
I know he's the Beast of New York.
But why am I suddenly so foolishly tempted to tell him he's all bark and no bite?
MANNERS MAKETH A MAN.
It was a cliché for most, but never for the Marchettis. Everyone in their world knew this, but what Lorenzo did not expect was for their courtesy to extend even to someone like him.
"Thank you for making good on your promise, Lorenzo." The matriarch was the first to address his presence."May I introduce you to the rest of my family?" Her voice alone was a masterclass in the art of psychological warfare. It was soft and elegant but underscored at the same time by steely authority.