Page 13 of Marcello DeLuca

I nodded, squeezing his hand tighter. “I’m sure.” The words came out with a calm confidence, surprising even myself.

I had spent too long hiding my feelings for him in the shadows, letting fear dictate my actions. Tonight, under the spell of the performance and the connection we had shared, I felt a new strength rising within me.

Marcello took a deep breath, the lines of his face softening. “Then, if you are fine with it, yes. I’m ready to speak with your uncle.”

We walked together toward the exit where Uncle James waited. The air was thick with the remnants of the evening’s energy, the scent of flowers and the lingering aroma of stage makeup and costume fabric mingling in the corridor.

As we neared the end of the hallway, a few people congratulated me on how well of a job I’d done. The audience’s chatter continued to hum in the background as my heart pounded in my chest. Uncle James had always been my rock, his protective instincts heightened by the life we had been forced into. I knew this conversation would challenge his rules, but it was a step we had to take.

Marcello’s hand in mine gave me courage. We reached the end of the corridor and stepped into the lobby where Uncle James stood, his posture rigid, eyes scanning the room until they landed on us. His expression was unreadable, a mask of stoic concern that did little to hide the storm brewing beneath.

I glanced at Marcello, his face set in determined lines, his grip on my hand unwavering. We had rehearsed for this moment earlier this week at the café. We prepared for the questions, the scrutiny, the protective warnings. Yet, standing here on the brink of confrontation, I realized that nothing could truly prepare us for what would unfold.

Taking a deep breath, I squared my shoulders and stepped forward.

Marcello squeezed my hand reassuringly as we came to a stop in front of Uncle James.

“Lanay,” Uncle James began, his eyes darting between us, “you were magnificent tonight.”

“Thank you, Uncle James,” I replied, my voice steady but my heart racing. “I’d like for you to meet Marcello. He’s…he’s very special to me.”

He then turned his gaze to Marcello, who stood tall and unwavering under the scrutiny of my uncle’s piercing dark eyes.

Uncle James studied Marcello for a long moment, his eyes narrowing slightly as if trying to see through to his very soul. “Marcello,” he said finally, his voice firm but not unkind, “I know that you have been sniffing around my niece, but I need to know who you really are.”

Marcello met his gaze steadily, his posture respectful yet confident. “I understand, sir. Lanay means everything to me, and I want to be as open as I can with you.”

Uncle James crossed his arms, leaning back slightly as he regarded Marcello with a critical eye. “You have to understand my position,” he began, his tone unwavering. “I’ve seen enough in my life to know that not everyone is who they appear to be. And when it comes to my niece, I need to be sure she’s safe and well cared for.”

Marcello nodded, his jaw tightening slightly, but he maintained his calm demeanor. “I respect that, Mr. James. I would expect nothing less from someone who loves Lanay as much as you do.”

There was a flicker of approval in Uncle James’s eyes, though his expression remained stern. “It’s not just about love, Marcello. It’s about trust. You’ve made quite an impression on her, and she seems... insistent that you’re worth the risk. But I need to hear from you—why should I believe that you’re the right person for her?”

Marcello took a deep breath, choosing his words carefully. “I won’t deny that I’ve been around people who aren’t exactly... model citizens. But that’s not who I am. I am someone who will make something out of life and give everything I have to my future family. Lanay has shown me what it means to be truly connected to someone, to care about more than just myself. I want a future with her.”

Uncle James tilted his head slightly, the lines of his face softening as he considered Marcello’s words. “That’s a lot of dedication for a boy of your age.”

“With all due respect sir, I am a young man. I graduate high school this year,” Marcello corrected.

“Alright,” Uncle James deadpanned. “And what about your friends? The ones I hear aren’t exactly on the straight and narrow?”

Marcello glanced at me, then back at my uncle, his expression earnest. “Sir, I won’t lie to you. Some of my friends are involved in things that I want no part of. It’s a complicated balance, but I have mastered the art of staying out of trouble. I’m focused on building my future, and more importantly, I’m focused on a future with Lanay.”

Uncle James’s gaze remained piercing, but there was a hint of something softer beneath his scrutiny. “Lanay is everything to me. She deserves someone who will cherish her, protect her. You can’t do that if you’re hanging around bad actors.”

Marcello’s shoulders relaxed a fraction. “I understand, sir. I will keep my distance from those bad influences, for her sake and my own. My commitment to her is most important.”

Uncle James nodded slightly, as if weighing Marcello’s words. “Lanay told me of your father’s luxury car dealership and that you attend private school.”

Marcello acknowledged this with a solemn nod. “Yes, my father has worked hard to build his business, and I respect him for it. My education is important to me because it’s a path to a better future.”

Uncle James remained silent for a moment, his eyes searching Marcello’s face for any sign of deceit. Finally, he spoke reluctantly. “A blind man could see how inseparable you two are and the lengths you’re willing to go for her. So, I’ll allow you to court her, but be advised that I am watching. Every step you take, every decision you make—it all matters.”

Marcello’s expression was one of deep gratitude. “Thank you, sir. I won’t let you down. Lanay means everything to me, and I promise to honor and protect her.”

With a final, lingering look, Uncle James seemed to come to a decision. He extended his hand to Marcello, a gesture of tentative approval. “See that you do. I’ll be holding you to that promise.”

Marcello shook his hand firmly, a silent pact between them forming in that moment. “I won’t let you down, sir,” he repeated, his voice steady and sincere.

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