Page 21 of Snowed in with the Mafia

I didn’t think I could trust a woman. No woman remained faithful to my father. Not even my mother. But there’s something about Alessia. Her loyalty. Fuck. She must be the most loyal woman in the world. Everything she’s doing is for her sister. She took us on—the world-feared Falchi—to protect her sister against her uncle.

We know the only reason she wants to keep the farm is for her sister. That kind of devotion of her is constant and unconditional. If she gives you her word, she’s keeping it until the end of time. And fuck if that isn’t one of the hottest things about her. And I fell, and I can’t stop falling.

So, yeah. Luca was right. We’re all three so fucking in love with this woman that we would raze the world for her. I hope she never doubts that. It was never just about possessing her. It was a fucking lie Nico, and I fed ourselves like idiots.

We know about her sister’s medical condition too. Gianna looks frail, but her bodyguard, the tall, dark man with murder in his eyes when he looks at her uncle and love when he looks at Gianna—that man, Manny Phillips, is our kind of man. Already we respect him because any person that looks after what our bride holds dear will be protected by us.

As soon as we realized there was no backing out when it came to her, we had to do our homework. She made us do homework.

We had to find a workaround to deal with her uncle, which was tricky considering he has sovereign immunity. As the only living male of the Passero family, he’s right about that. He can’t be harmed by another sovereign in theReale Dorato, which is like a judicial court to oversee that families abide by the rules. Honor among thieves.

But right now, our bride is crumbling. And there’s a very thin line controlling us from truly killing her uncle right there and then. We knew he would bring up the protection theReale Doratooffers him from us. The satisfaction of snapping his neck would be priceless, worth every single dollar we own. But she’ll still lose her farm.

And that can’t happen because it would destroy her. And right now she’s crumbling, looking at us as if we betrayed her. We have to set that right immediately.

“There isn’t anything you can do to me,” Tony Moreno says, fucking smug as ever.

“I think you fail to understand the lengths we’re willing to go to make our bride happy, Moreno,” Nico says. Alessia whips her gaze up to us, confusion marring her dark golden eyes. She’s so fucking perfect, it hurts.

“There’s nothing you can do. If she had done as she was told and kept her mouth shut and her legs open, I would have had my money, and we wouldn’t be having this conversation. So get off my property. You have no right to be here. I’m going to burn this thing to the ground to punish her. She’s always been too proud. Just like that mother of hers.”

“Actually, you don’t have a right to be here, Moreno,” Luca says.

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

In the faint distance, I hear the crunch of snow as a car pulls up. Just in time.

“You see, Moreno, in exactly two minutes, Alessia Moreno, bride of the Falchi, will become thedonna mafiosaof the Falchi,” Nico says at the same time as we hear a knock on the door.

Manny reads the room correctly and goes to answer it, but Alessia is too stunned to say anything. Her silky eyebrows dip to the center of her forehead, her frown heavy, but nothing can mar her beautiful features. Her lips move, but no sound comes out.

“Impossible,” Moreno laughs. “For her to be thedonna mafiosaof the Falchi, you will have to give her everything. And you won’t. You’re not stupid.”

Yeah, there’s that. We’re stupid for her, that’s for sure.

But Moreno’s bravado soon fades when he sees the man who enters the living room: the chief secretary of theReale Doratohimself, Giuseppe Ferrara.

“All right let’s get this thing signed and sealed. I left my warm bed for this, so let’s be quick,” Giuseppe says in his customary brisk way. He did ask us if we were crazy. Again, yes, for her.

“On this day, as of,” Giuseppe looks at his watch, “11 a.m., Signora Alessia is now thedonna mafiosaof the Falchi. She will own the mafia and all of the eight hundred billion dollars they’re worth. It’s all yours, Signora Alessia,” Giuseppe says to her.

“What?” she finally says, her voice so soft and sweet that the effect it has on my body is fucking sinful. Her gaze remains fixed on us.

“This is absurd,” Moreno laughs. “The only thing she’s interested in is the farm, and only because of her sister. You can give her all the money in the world; she’ll turn it down. She’s too damn righteous and weak. Pathetic.”

“Well,” Giuseppe softens his voice as he turns to her, “as of now, you are also thedonna mafiosaof the Passero family and have inherited whatever is in its coffers. Your uncle is only a superficial step in, not an official one. He lacks the credentials. Your new status exceeds his now. The farm is yours.”

“I don’t understand. Why?” She’s asking us the question, not anyone else. No one else in that room exists but her. Lovely, ethereal, strong, proud, fair, and loyal. The woman who brought us to our knees. How can she not see it?

Her aunt and cousin shriek in the corner, and her uncle’s eyes are going to bulge out of his skull. He looks at Alessia and takes a step toward her, but we block him off—all three of us—and he backs off immediately.

“Tony Moreno, I suggest you get yourself off this property immediately. Nico Santoro, Luca Armano, and Vincenzo Rosso are no longer bound by the rules of theReale Dorato, and I must admit, I worry for your safety. That said, gentlemen, ladies,Maestri, anddonna mafiosa,” Giuseppe says, bows to her, and then takes his leave.

“Say goodbye to your sister, Alessia,” I say. “You’ll see her again soon. Then go and wait in the car for us. We’re going to help your unclepack.”

Chapter Twenty

Alessia

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