Page 50 of Doll Face

Gianna flushed, not sure how to take his compliment. Not sure if she should even feel any connection with him.

“I went back to Chicago, as you know. Brought back my best man. His name is Rocco.”

She remembered him. “I haven’t thought of attendants.”

“Figured if we’re doing this, might as well do it right. We only get one, don’t we?”

His tone gave a hint of bitterness, and a thought struck her. “Do you have someone in your life?”

“No,” he replied stiffly, not looking at her. “No one. Not anymore.”

She cocked her head, her heart thundered in her ears. Did he no longer love the woman who had replaced her in his life?

“Sounds like a bad breakup.”

“No, she … died.” He took a deep breath. “I want honesty between us.”

Honesty? That was laughable. “About what?”

“I loved a woman once,” he replied. “Loved her so much that when she died, my heart and soul went with her. As you know, mafia marriages are for life. I just want everything laid out, so there’s no miscommunication. I won’t be able to fall in love with you. Not like you should be loved.”

Now, Gianna was really confused. He couldn’t be talking about her, could he? Not after he was the one who ordered her death.

“I’m sorry you lost her,” she said softly. “That must have been traumatic.”

He nodded, and then like it never happened, all emotion was wiped from his face. He returned to stone-cold apathy.

“If it makes you feel any better, I lost someone, too,” she finally said, testing the waters.

His brows pinched together. “Is that why you agreed to this marriage? Trying to move on?”

She took a deep breath. “Partly. I told you the main reason.”

“Inheritance.”

“Yes,” she replied. “I don’t expect to fall in love again either and I understand the reason why you mentioned that. You can’t really bounce back from that type of heartache, can you?”

“No. You can’t.” He took a deep breath and seemed to come to some type of acceptance. “So, we can forge a life together under mutual respect and perhaps our children can fill a void that seems bottomless.”

The idea of having children with Matteo filled her with pangs of regret. Once upon a time, she had daydreamed about what their kids would look like. She had thought he’d make a wonderful father, before she found out he was nothing more than a rich criminal. But all thoughts of happy ever after died with Macy Moore. Once she married Matteo, she’d have access to the Romanelli household and offices, able to fulfill the plan she and Orianna had set in motion.

“Would you want to raise them here or in Chicago?”

“As you can guess, my business is in Chicago,” he replied. “Once we have kids, however, we can divide our time between there and here. I know Italy has a lot of memories for you.”

The idea that she’d be around Pietro gnawed in the back of her mind. “Can I say something without you getting angry?”

“I guess?”

“I don’t want your father around any child we have.”

He frowned. “May I ask why?”

With that question, she had to navigate a slippery slope. “Because I got a bad vibe from the choose-me-and-not-my-son speech.”

Matteo grimaced. “Yeah, that was unexpectedly disturbing. If that’s your wish, I will uphold it.”

Now, his agreeing did surprise her. “Thank you.”

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