Page 77 of Princess of the Mafia

Silent tears trailed down her cheeks. “You know, I tried once. I packed my suitcase even. Called Vitale to come and get me. But when he answered that call, his voice… It reminded me of Carlo when I first met him and how much I still loved him. He loved me, too. You didn’t see everything. Couldn’t. Because no marriage is only good or bad. It wasn’t only bad moments. There were good ones, too. We did lots of beautiful things together. Maybe you didn’t see them. But I did. For every ten faults of his, there was one that made up for all ten of them, and I stayed. That was enough for me. I would never want to replace that.”

“I don’t—”

“It’s not easy for anyone to understand this, mia Daria. Every marriage will have its hurdles and problems, and no marriage is the same. These were mine. The good and the bad. Yours and Lorenzo’s will be different. Because Lorenzo is not Papà and you are most definitely not me, piccola mia. Learn from our mistakes. Take out of it what you want, but make it your own.”

CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE

DARIA

Excitement jittered my nerves. I had no idea what I had learned in college today, but whatever it was, it made me feel a tad smarter. Made me walk an inch taller. And I had made friends. Ones who had not seen the naked length of my husband.

We burst out of the main building in a fit of giggles. Me and my American Luna prospects. I liked this. I could get used to it. I lifted my head to let the sun kiss my face, but my line of sight pulled to the other side of the road where a familiar car and an even more familiar man stood parked.

I wished I could say that I was surprised, but I really wasn't. He had been all moody and dark in the morning, and I had slipped out quietly because, truth be told, I was terrified he would change his mind.

He hadn’t, thankfully, but he was still moody. I could tell, even through the distance of a couple hundred feet. He leaned against the car in black dress pants and a white open-necked shirt, with a cigarette dangling off his fingers, like he had forgotten he was inhaling nicotine into his lungs.

His dark gaze pinned me and pulled me in, and suddenly, I forgot the friends I had made. The chatter around me stopped, and a “Who’s that?” touched the nape of my neck. Mine. An amused smirk painted his lips, and I just knew the damn man had heard the compliments flying off the girls behind me. Friends. I had thought. I think not.

I crossed the street to the buzz of my pulse and walked right into the heat between his legs. Bold? I know. Did I do it to stake my claim? Damn right, I did.

A hand cupped my ass, and he dropped his jaw to my neck and traced the line with his scruff. “Who’s the boy?”

Huh? What boy?

I tried to twist to look, but a hand with a death grip on my neck held me prisoner. “So many boys, so little time. Which one is it?”

A harsh nip on my neck. “You’re my woman,” he growled.

I pulled back to look at him. “Am I now?”

He nodded roughly.

“Does that mean you are mine, too?”

“Of course.”

I tilted my face. “No sharing?”

“Fuck no,” he hissed.

“Yeah?” I felt a smile pull at my lips. “I think I like that.”

“You’d better.” He pushed off the car and opened the back door. “You don’t have a choice, anyway.”

There is that, too.

He slipped into the car and pulled me in right over his lap. My face heated, and I just knew I had an audience across the street. I didn’t dare to look, but a little part of me jumped up and down in glee. The thud of two doors closing reminded me of Orso. I hadn’t even seen him because when this man looked at me, I forgot to breathe. I’m not going to be Mamma. Even if she said I could never be her.

The car hummed, and the wheels churned somewhere underneath us. His hands gripped my upper thighs and pushed my skirt up. “You’re so uncouth,” I muttered as I tried to push my skirt down.

He swatted my hands away like they were flies on a hot summer day. “Uncouth, unhinged…” he pulled me closer and sucked my lips like a popsicle. When he released them with a hot pop a few minutes later, I thought I might like him as he was. “Admit it, you love it.”

“Nah,” I shook my head vigorously.

When he made to pull me in again, I poked him with my finger and held my arm in between us. “I do love uni.”

He caught my finger in his big hand. “Yeah? What did you learn?”

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