Page 67 of Obsession & Oath

“You are young. You have a better sense of modern living than I do.” Evelina gives me a pointed look. “My son will be living here in the future, perhaps a little…er…Brooklyn influence will make him feel more at home.”

“I suppose I can help,” I say with a grin. “But I warn you, my taste might be a bit unconventional.”

Evelina laughs softly, her eyes gleaming. “That’s what I like about you.”

* * *

I’m not entirely sure how Evelina and I ended up having dinner in the sunroom that evening. But before I know it, we end up laughing together at Evelina’s stories about her younger days.

I do, however, find myself genuinely amused by her dry humor. There’s something so effortlessly charming about her.

“So you mean to tell me,” I say, wiping away a tear from my eye from laughing so hard, “that he had no idea that you were alreadyengagedto the don of the Grasso di Ferro?”

Evelina grins, leaning back in her chair. “Not a clue. It was dreadful, of course. He was so smitten I could hardly get a word in edgewise. But he was a great dancer.”

I snort. “And what did your fiancé have to say about that?”

“He laughed a fair bit when I showed him the list of baby names,” she replies with a wink.

“You actually showed him?” My jaw drops in disbelief. “And he didn’t immediately call a hit on the guy that had unknowingly dated his future wife?”

“He was always far more attentive to where I was after that.” Evelina smiles into her wine.

I quirk an eyebrow. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you enjoyed winding him up.”

Evelina’s grin widens. “Only for the entertainment value, of course.”

I laugh, shaking my head. “You’re something else, Evelina.”

The air between us feels easy now, warm. There’s something about Evelina that makes everything feel just a little bit lighter.

Just as I’m about to take another bite of my meal, the door opens quietly behind us.

Dante steps in, looking slightly out of place in the warm, easy atmosphere we’ve created. At first, he looks confused, his eyes darting between us before a small smile starts to break across his face.

“What’s this?” he asks, a note of curiosity in his voice. “Am I interrupting?”

I look at Evelina, who meets my gaze with a quiet smirk, clearly enjoying the situation.

“Not at all,” she says in that calm, confident tone of hers. “We were just talking about appalling baby names. Sit, Dante. Have dinner with us.”

I watch as Dante’s expression shifts from confusion to worry to something softer, the corners of his mouth lifting. His gaze settles on me, and he gives a little shrug, stepping farther into the room.

“If you don’t mind the intrusion. I’d hate to be a nuisance,” he says, his voice light.

“When has that ever stopped you before?” I tease back.

To my delight, Evelina cracks out another laugh at my side. Dante looks alarmed but he offers a corresponding chuckle as he takes a seat.

“You’ve been working too hard, Dante,” Evelina teases, setting down her fork. “I have not heard you laugh like that since you got back.”

Dante shoots her a look, but I can see the warmth behind his eyes. “I’ll try my best to slow down, but no promises.”

The night continues to pass in jovial chatter and easy conversation, and I’m struck by how much warmth has filled the room. It’s easy to forget that we’re all tangled in this web of expectations when we’re just people laughing at the absurdity of life.

And when Dante’s gaze lingers on me for just a second too long, I wonder if this—this easy, comfortable moment—is something I could get used to.

After dinner, Dante and I slip away from the table, the weight of the wine and the good mood still hanging in the air. It’s only when we reach his door that I realize that I’ve automatically led us to Dante’s room.

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