Total pages in book: 102
Estimated words: 98583 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 493(@200wpm)___ 394(@250wpm)___ 329(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 98583 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 493(@200wpm)___ 394(@250wpm)___ 329(@300wpm)
“Beautiful.”
“You really pissed him off. The guy looked livid when he got in his car.”
“Think so? I tried my best.”
“What’d you say to him?”
“Just insulted his wife. She deserves it, by the way.”
“No judgment here.”
“If we’re lucky, he’ll be so angry that he’ll go straight to Demir. And once he does—”
Luca snaps his fingers. “Then we’ve got him.”
“You and Vittorio log every single place that car stops. Send some guys to follow discreetly. Pick the best people we have. Don’t fuck this up.”
“Already done.” Luca gets to his feet. “Anything else?”
“Nothing. I made the right choice making you Capo.”
Luca swells with pride. “Fucking right you did.” Then he stalks off, swaggering just a little bit.
Chapter 39
Lucy
“Iwant you to see what I’m thinking, okay?” I pull Adriano along through the halls of the Marino mansion by the hand.
“It’s been a long day,” he growls, dragging his feet. “Can’t we just unwind?”
“You mean, can’t we just have raunchy sex for an hour or two?”
“Pretty much.”
I slap at his wrist lightly. “Later. Just indulge me.”
He sighs, smiling. “I always do.”
“And it’s such a chore, isn’t it?” I lean into him, and he puts an arm across my shoulders. We walk to his father’s former wing together and step into the empty rooms.
They’re entirely cleared out. All the old stuff is gone. The carpets were ripped up, and the walls are painted a neutral light gray. The trim is in the process of being replaced, and half the light fixtures are missing. There’s more painter’s tape than anything else, and plastic sheeting covers most of the floor space.
I tug him with me right into the middle of the main room.
“Den,” I say, gesturing around us. “Couch over there. Something easy to clean. TV when he’s older. Shelves, bookcases, storage for all his toys.” I gesture back toward the bedroom. “Nursery.”
Adriano’s eyebrows raise. “You want to make this the kid wing?”
“We’ll have to move our bedroom. There’s a good one right next door I was thinking we could refinish. Maybe even knock down a few walls and make it into a whole suite. That way, we can be close to the kids—”
“Kids? Plural?”
“Parenthood won’t be easy,” I say, ignoring him. “We’re not going to rely on nannies and staff for everything.”
“I mean, we’ll rely on them for some things.”
I swat at him again. “You’re not taking this seriously.”
“Yes, amore mio, I most certainly am.” He pulls me against him, and his smile fades. “It’s just hard to think of this place that way. These rooms were my father’s rooms.”
I hesitate, wondering if I made a big mistake. I asked Donatella what she thought of this, and she said it was a wonderful way to turn sorrow into something happy. And the space is very good, almost perfect for what we’ll need. Plenty of room for a few children to grow up and be happy with room to expand as needed. This wing of the house hasn’t been used much over the years, and there’s more space than Adriano’s father ever needed.
But I can understand why it might be hard for him. I don’t want to push him too fast. I just thought it might be good, a way to help the grieving process.
“Think of it like a tribute to him. Maybe he would’ve liked that, you know? His grandchildren growing up in his old room?”
His mouth twitches into an almost-smile. “I think he would’ve, actually. Dad was always into family.” But the almost-smile goes away. “But it’s a lot. I’d have to run it past Bianca first.”
“She doesn’t even live here. I doubt she’ll mind.”
“Still—”
“I’m not trying to pressure you. I’m really not. I just thought you’d like this idea, is all.”
“Baby.” He tries to tug me close, but I pull away. His expression is dark and tortured. “You don’t understand.”
“Then make me understand. We don’t have to do anything to these rooms if you don’t want to. It really doesn’t matter.”
“Then why do you seem upset?”
“Because I want you to be excited,” I say, letting it burst out with more emotion than it should have. Donatella keeps saying I need to be patient, but I don’t know how much longer I can wait.
His eyebrows raise in surprise. “I am excited.”
“Are you? The first time I told you, you seemed like it was the greatest news you’d ever heard. But since then, whenever the baby comes up, you suddenly get moody. I don’t understand it.”
“I’m not getting fucking moody.”
“Babies are a lot of work. I get it, our lives are going to change, but this is good. This is a miracle. It’s what we want, right?”
“I want this child with you more than I want anything in the world,” he says, and the intensity of the look he gives me makes me believe him.
“So why don’t you seem like it?”