Page 83 of Lorenzo's Claim

“Lo so, Nonna.” I sighed. “Troppo a lungo, mi sei mancato.” I spoke in Italian, something I knew my grandparents were proud of.

“Risparmia un po' d'amore per tuo Nonno.” My grandfather chuckled, holding out his arms to me as he pulled me into him with a firm pat on the back.

“This must be…” My grandmother, Silvia, gasped as her eyes fell to my wife.

“Nonna, this is Anastacia, my wife.” I hadn’t even finished my sentence before she wrapped her arms tightly around Ana, who was smiling ear to ear.

“It’s so lovely to meet you, Anastacia, dear.” She stroked her hair, welcoming her like the family she was. “I’ve heard all about you from our daughter, Carmella.” She led Ana to our reserved table as I watched on with a smile I couldn’t hide.

“How have you been, son?” My grandfather, Elio, asked.

“Good. Really good, actually.” I turned to face him. “I guess you’ll meet her properly whenNonnalets you,” I teased.

“You know her all too well.” He chuckled. “You seem happy. That’s all we ever wanted for you, especially since…” He paused, unsure if he should continue.

My grandparents weren’t fans of my father. In their eyes, he was never good enough for their only daughter. The more I thought about it, the more I realised they were right. He wasn’t good enough for her.

He tried at first. Brought her home frequently even when they had me, but after a short period of time, he stopped. He wouldn’t allow her to leave and visit alone with me. Maybe he thought we wouldn’t return. Fuck knows what went on in that man’s head. I visited when I was old enough, but after my father passed away, my time was limited and unfortunately, seeing them and spending time in Sicily was one of the things I had to give up.

“I plan on being out here a lot more, especially since I bought a house for us here.”

“Well, yourNonnawill love that. She seems to have taken to your wife.” He nodded towards them as she was already pouring Ana a limoncello.God, was she trying to get her drunk already? It had only been five bloody minutes.

“Lorenzo, come over here,” Ana called. I found my feet already moving towards her.

“She’s a keeper, especially if she makes you smile like that.” Elio said loud enough for me to hear as he slapped his palms together in delight.

He was right. She was a keeper, and I didn’t plan on letting her go, not even for a second.

26

I satopposite Lorenzo on the quaint, wooden table that was covered with white linen. An old wine bottle decorated in old wax that housed a single candle sat atop it as well.

“This is… perfect,” I whispered, taken aback by how special tonight had been so far. I glanced up at my husband who wore a rare, genuine grin. “I like it when you smile.”

“It’s a good job I have plenty to smile about then, isn’t it?” He took my hand across the table. “I’m sorry. I know myNonnais full on. They just wanted to meet you.”

“I don’t mind. It’s actually quite nice. I haven’t felt love from my family like that in a while.” I hid the way my voice wobbled, pushing my parents to the back of my mind, not wanting to think about them.

“My family is yours now, and I promise we can visit Sicily whenever you want. If it means I get to see you happy, then just say the word, and I’ll drop everything and make it happen.” He sipped his whiskey with a mischievous glint in his eye. “Besides, it’ll be nice to bring our children out here.”

I almost choked on my wine. I had a feeling he’d want kids. He’d want an heir at some point, but hearing him mention it wasunexpected. I had never really wanted children. I had a different vision for my life previously, but I guess things could change for the better, or whatever the saying was.

“How is everything?” Elio beamed, appearing from the restaurant's kitchen, changing the subject of children.

“Oh, Elio, it was beautiful. Bless your hands,” I complimented.

“I’ll be back shortly with the best dessert you’ve ever tasted.” He grinned, clapping his hands together.

“That’s quite the statement,Nonno.” Lorenzo chuckled.

“You know the exact dessert I’m talking about, so you know the statement is true.” He tsked before returning to the kitchen.

“Lorenzo…” I sighed. “Why weren’t they at the wedding?” I asked, hoping I hadn’t overstepped.

“Honestly, they hate the life I lead, but that doesn’t mean they don’t love me. They just don’t agree.” He offered a lopsided smile. “They hated my father, hated the life he dragged my mother into and raised me up in.” He let out a deep breath.

“You weren’t dragged up. Your mother raised you well. You just went off track a little bit.”

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