Page 133 of Massimo
Vito speaks before I can, "Nova, this is what our family does; we protect our own. You're family now; Massimo and you married."
"We all know that was fake." Nova shakes her head. "Youmarried us, Vito."
"Definitely fake,"ZioMarco mutters, rubbing his hand over his face.
Vito grins, looking first at Marco and then Nova. "I assure you: my ordainment is one hundred percent legit. In this state, country, and globally."
ZioMarco chokes on a cough, and Nova spins to me. The sudden movement causes her to sway, and I quickly grab her shoulders to steady her. From everything I've learned about pregnancy, I know dizziness can be an early side effect due to hormonal shifts, blood pressure and sugar changes. Still, I'll make sure Nova gets thoroughly checked as soon as possible.
"Why would you actually marry me?" she asks, almost in horror.
Anger surges within me at the thought that she doesn't want me as her husband.
But then it hits me—her entire life has been filled with psychological warfare. And there's the very real possibility she overheard me calling her 'the snake's spawn' when I was trying to stop Vito from digging deeper into the rumors that I had her. All of this would undoubtedly shape the way she sees and interprets everything.
"Nova... I married you because you're mine. My tiny but fierce queen."
She shakes her head, and I still see her doubt. "We can get an annulment."
"No," I growl, then quickly ease. "You're mine, Nova. No one…not your father, Vincenzo, my family"—I look pointedly atZioMarco before turning back to her—"not evenyoucan take you from me." She opens her mouth to protest, and I step closer, framing her beautiful face with my big hands. "Because I love you. And because youarecarrying my child."
She stumbles back, and my hand wraps around her nape, and the other slides around her lower back.
"I'm on the pill." She stares up at me. "You ensure I take it every day."
I smile. "It's a prenatal vitamin."
"What?" Her voice is a whisper.
She could hate me for my manipulation and deception, but I lean into my actions. "Having you as my wife and the mother of my children is my greatest desire. It also protects you from anyone having the power to take you from me. Your father or the French mafia can try, but thewhole of the Santoro mafia will rise to protect you, and the whole of the 'Ndrangheta will need to back us if required."
Ziomutters in Italian, but he's not looking hateful or spiteful now. Then he smiles, shaking his head. "You're so much like Tommaso,nipote, it hurts." He regards Nova, like he's seeing her for the first time through new eyes; ones not discolored with the stains of Silvestro Mancini's sins against us and the innocent lives he's turned into hell. Then he turns back to me. "Like Tommaso did with Gina, you used your own underhanded means to secure your queen by your side."
That I did.
Nova is still pale and looks a bit dazed as she stares at me. "I'm pregnant?" Her voice is choked. "How do you know? Isn't it too soon to know?"
"The blood work."
Yesterday, I had Jerome draw blood again from Nova for his friend to analyze. I did this partly to ensure she was doing well in terms of nourishment and partly because I wanted to see about the pregnancy. He ran the early detection tests, and the results showed that hCG—human chorionic gonadotropin, a hormone released after a fertilized egg attaches to the uterine lining—was present. She likely got pregnant one of the first times we'd been together.
I hate that we're having this conversation in front of an audience, but it can't be helped.
I wrap my hands around her waist, pulling her closer, and gazing down at her. "Do you hate me, princess?"
Her big brown eyes well with tears, and I brace myself for her answer.
Her reaching up on her tiptoes and pulling my face down to hers isn't what I'm expecting.
"No," she whispers, her breath is shaky. "I love you, Massimo."
The words are only audible to me, but I hear them as if she shouted them at the top of her lungs. My heart soars with joy and happiness. My hands tighten on her waist, wanting nothing more than to worship her and take care of her in every and all ways. But we have a dire threat we need to deal with.
"I love you, too." I kiss her gently. "My wife."
The welled-up tears in her eyes spill over as two fat teardrops, but she smiles. And for the first time since I've laid eyes on her, her gaze is entirely unguarded—no remnants of her walls left standing, not even a pebble left for her to try to rebuild them. Those defenses she had hidden behind, protecting herself from the monsters in her world, are completely gone. And her fire and fight burns bright and strong.
She's ready. My queen has finally been forged and is by my side, ready to face and destroy the threat against her.
