Page 11 of Marco

"What about…intimacy?" she asks hesitantly.

I shake my head. "None required. I'll continue my business, you run your cafe. We maintain appearances at formal events, but otherwise, nothing changes."

I can see her turning this over in her mind, her arms wrapped around herself protectively. She's managed to keep separate from this world for so long, but now it's at her doorstep. Sometimes life has a way of showing us who we really are, no matter how much we try to deny it.

"I know it's a lot to take in," I add, softening my tone a fraction. "And it's not ideal. But I give you my word that I only want to help you. And I really think this is the only way to keep you, and your cafe… and your Nonna… safe."

She meets my gaze then, as if judging my sincerity. I hold it unflinchingly. Finally, she sighs.

Alessia takes a deep breath, steadying herself before responding. "I believe you," she says. "I just need...time. To think this over. Talk it through with someone I trust." She glances up at me hesitantly. "Can I have some time?"

I study her for a moment, taking in the tension in her shoulders and the apprehension in her eyes. As much as I want to seal this arrangement immediately, I know she needs space to process everything. After a moment, I nod in understanding. This whole situation has been sprung on her so suddenly. Of course she needs time to wrap her head around the drastic changes to her life.

"Take a couple days," I say finally. "But no more than that. The clock's ticking here."

She nods, relief at my patience flashing across her face. "Thank you. I'll give you my answer soon." I feel an unfamiliar pang in my chest—a desire to put her at ease, which is so unlike me. I'm used to inspiring fear, not comfort.

"Thank you," she murmurs.

We leave it at that for the moment. I can tell the wheels are still turning in her mind, weighing her limited options. She's backed into a corner, but I'll try to make this transition as smooth as possible.

We both stand, the vinyl booth creaking as we slide out. Out of habit, I go to drop a few bills on the table for the untouched coffee, but she waves my hand away and I return them to my wallet.

"Be careful," I tell her seriously. "Don't go anywhere alone. And watch your back."

"I will," she promises.

I turn to leave but pause, looking back at her hovering uncertainly beside the table. "For what it's worth, I'm sorry you got dragged into this. You seem... different from the rest of them."

Something that might be a smile flickers across her lips. "Not sure who 'them' is, or if that's a compliment coming from you."

I huff a quiet laugh. "Take it however you want."

With that, I walk out of the cafe and into the night. As I leave the cafe, I feel the weight of what I've taken on. Sheltering an innocent in the viper's nest of the mafia won't be easy. But the thought of her coming to harm is unacceptable. I push down the voice warning me that this could end badly.

The cold air is bracing after the cozy warmth inside. Hands in my pockets, I make my way down the quiet street, feeling the weight of her decision resting heavily on me. I can only hope I've done enough to convince her. For both our sakes.

For now, all I can do is wait for her decision and prepare for the changes to come in both her life and mine. My gut tells me this arrangement will not leave either of us untouched.

A few days later, she texts me.

Alessia: I'm ready to speak.

I immediately text her back and let her know I'm on my way, and call my driver to pull the car around.

When I arrive at the cafe, she leads me to the same booth where I made the original proposal. For a moment, we sit there in silence. I don't want to pressure her to give me an answer, even though I'm anxious to hear what she has to say.

"Okay," she finally says, so softly I almost don't hear it. Her eyes meet mine, resignation mingling with a tiny spark of defiance. She'll get through this on her own terms.

I admire that fire in her. My world will and has extinguished many, but I suspect her light will endure.

"We have a deal then." I extend my hand.

After a moment, she shakes it, cementing our false union.

A sacrifice of independence to maintain her freedom. The bargain may leave a bitter taste, but it's necessary. Her agreement was only the first part. Mere words. Now we'll see if this fragile arrangement can withstand the dangers yet to come.

I nod, letting go of her hand. Marrying Alessia is merely a practical solution to keep her and her business safe out of some sense of inexplicable obligation, and yet it feels weighted, momentous.

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