Page 62 of Dangerous Vows

Amara engulfs her in a hearty hug, so hearty that I’m afraid she might break the elderly woman. But Grandma Rossi is tougher than she looks and takes it all in stride. The two women adore each other.

My sweet girl,” she breathes, pulling Amara into her small one-bedroom condo, holding her tightly.

Amara rests her forehead against her grandmother’s and laughs softly. “Hi, Nonna. I brought your favorites.” She lifts the bag of candies, shaking it playfully.

Grandmother Rossi grins. “You always remember. I shouldn’t eat sugar, but at my age, who cares?”

She turns, finally noticing me standing in the doorway, her sharp eyes scanning me with an appraising look. “And who’s this?”

Amara hesitates as she glances at me.

I step forward, offering a hand. “Pietro.”

Nonna’s smile widens as she takes my hand, squeezing lightly. “Pietro, eh? That’s a good Italian name.”

“It is,” I agree.

“You have a bit of an accent. Sicilian?”

“Yes.” I decide it’s better to stick to one-word answers—her son-in-law is my enemy, after all. “Your granddaughter is…” I wrinkle my brow. “Someone special.” I finally relax, having found the word to finish the sentence.

“That she is.” She smiles and walks into the small but cozy living room. She’s surprisingly agile for her age.

We take off our coats, draping them over the backs of the dated dining room chairs before settling into our seats. Nonna talks animatedly about her friends, her stories bouncing between gossip and nostalgia, especially about how handsome her husband was back in the day.

But as she speaks, I notice Amara frowning slightly.

Keeping my voice low, I ask, “What’s wrong?”

She shakes her head and rubs her hands together. “It’s chilly in here.”

“The heater isn’t working properly,” Grandma Rossi interjects. “I called and they were to come by yesterday, but no one has come.”

“That’s terrible,” I say. She’s an elderly woman who shouldn’t have to go without heat. I don’t hesitate—I pull out my phone and make a call. “I need someone at the address I’m texting in an hour to fix a heating issue. No delays.”

Mafia membership has its privileges—and I’m not afraid to use them.

Nonna raises a brow, amusement dancing in her eyes. “You have connections, do you?”

I smirk. She’s very spry and doesn’t miss a beat. “I like to get things done.”

She chuckles, nodding in approval. “Good man.”

As we sit, she looks between us, her sharp eyes narrowing slightly. I get the feeling she thinks I might be one of her son-in-law’s men—but she doesn’t ask.

Instead, she turns to Amara and says, “You’re glowing.”

Amara laughs, shaking her head. “Nonna?—”

“Don’t ‘Nonna’ me,” she interrupts. “Are you eating enough? Sleeping well?”

Amara’s cheeks flushed. I reach out and take her hand in mine, squeezing gently.

“I’m fine,” she replies with a smile. She’s been smiling more often lately, and I like to think Amara is happy with me. I’ve grown accustomed to our routine, and I love spoiling her.

Nonna watches us, then nods in approval. “You take care of my granddaughter, Pietro.”

I meet her gaze, my voice firm. “Always.”

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