Page 23 of Her Overprotective Fiance

I shake my head.

"Then one last thing,signorina."

If he calls me that one more time, I think I'm going to start smashing plates. I can't explain why, but I just hate it.

"While those of our world are obviously aware of the betrothal between ourfamiglie, you are free to disclose, deny, or say anything you wish to those who are not."

What the hell does that mean?

Is he telling me I'm free to date other guys as long as they're notfamiglia?

But if that's the case—-does this go both ways?

Am I supposed to simply turn a blind eye if I find out he's also dating other women?

Should I even care if he is?

Five Years Ago

Groom

"I'M SORRY ABOUT HAVINGto miss your birthday again," Maryse says with a rueful shake of her head. "I'd have delayed giving birth if I could, but my son has unfortunately inherited my impatience."

"Oh, just admit it," I scoff. "You avoid attendingfamigliaoccasions like the plague. You don't want people to tease you about being a barefoot contessa,literally."

Maryse only rolls her eyes, and this alone says a lot. A few years ago, such a joke would have me either thrown in one of the secret dungeons ofLa Torre...or chopped in pieces, also inLa Torre, of course.

A nurse takes my gift basket off my hands while Maryse gestures for me to take one of the chairs next to her bed.

"Everything good with your newborn?" I ask awkwardly.

Maryse laughs. "Almost three years with the Marchettis, and youstillhave a hard time making small talk?"

"It's not as easy—-"

"You only say that because you're still insecure," she dismisses.

I let out a gasp. "Iamnot—-"

Maryse wags a finger at me. "You may have all the others fooled, but not me. I still remember the look in your eyes when you woke up inLa Torre."

"Try putting yourself in my shoes," I retort, "and imagine what you'd feel waking up to the sight of a real-life Grim Reaper—-"

"You know what I mean, Sarica. And what bothers me even more is how I still catch glimpses of it in your eyes...every time you talk about the Marchettis."

Fuck.

Three years of living with the Marchettis also means I've been friends with the former Angel of Death for the same length of time. And even to this day, not once have her words missed its mark.

"What is it this time?" Maryse asks soberly. "Two years ago, you told me they didn't care enough. But I know it's no longer like that. So what's holding you back now?"

"This visit is supposed to be about you," I hedge.

"It should be about me," Maryse agrees in a huff, "so hurry up and just tell me what's bothering you this time. And for the record—-I'm going to bet it's another silly thing again."

I know she's baiting me, dammit, but I just can't help falling for it still, hook, line, and sinker. "It's not silly—-"

Her expression turns smug. "But youstilladmit to having gotten your panties twisted, yes?"

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