Page 21 of Doll's Eye

Alessia

I’m bored. Like really fucking bored.

Massimo hasn’t given me much to do yet, but I get it. Until we’re married, I’m still a Bonetti, a once rivaled family. But it doesn’t change the fact thatI am bored.

The De Luca estate is like a freaking tomb. None of his other siblings live here, and his mother might as well not. She hides in her room every day, and I’ve only seen her once since the party. The two short encounters were depressing. Her mind is no longer lucid, and she’s like an empty shell of a once beautiful woman.

Thankfully I’ve had no run-ins with Angelo. I’m not afraid of the man, but I’d rather keep my distance and not have to see him if it’s not necessary. I have no idea what the hell I’ve done to earn such animosity from him. If he hated me so much, then why the arranged marriage?

I also find it peculiar that he and his father don’t work closely together like my father and Tullio. From my understanding, that’s what you do. You work under your father until it’s timefor you to take over. It’s as if two separate De Luca empires are being run.

Armando is the only one to reside off our estate, but he’s over the house every freaking day. There’s always someone around and stuff going on. Never a dull moment at the Bonetti’s. Maybe Massimo will let me get a dog or something to keep me company and give me something to do.

Monte is decent company and helps with the loneliness, but it’s also his job to hang around me. Poor guy got put on babysitting duty. At least he isn’t terrible to look at. Nice brown hair with style, handsome face, nice smile, easy on the eyes, tall, and I’m sure very fit underneath. He’s also amusing and makes me laugh a lot.

We’re going to my family’s for dinner tonight, and I can’t wait. It’s been four days since I’ve seen them, and it feels like weeks. Massimo and I have had dinner together every night and then enjoyed a nice little nightcap afterward, but that’s all it’s been.Nice.

I had more fun with my first kneecapping and watching Massimo play operation on a live human being than any dinner I’ve had with him. At least then, he laughed.Twice. So I know he’s capable of smiling and laughing.

When our eyes meet, I feel something vital pulling me towards him, but he manages to quickly disconnect it as if something is holding him back. I thought he was thawing out for me, but he seems to be freezing me out now.

The wedding planning started a couple of weeks ago, and surprisingly, Massimo is giving me the green light to do whatever the fuck I want. I was almost positive I had him pegged for being administrative like me. I guess he probably doesn't care much because I wasn’t his first choice as a wife, and this is a marriage of convenience and not love.

Walking into my family’s home, I bask in the scent of Mamma’s cooking and the clangor of my family being their obnoxious selves. We’re bombarded with greetings and love when we enter the room, and I’m pleasantly surprised to see Fia and her family here.

Dinner goes by in the same fashion. Loud banter while Massimo watches us like we’re creatures from another planet. I understand his restlessness now more than ever. Our upbringing couldn’t be more opposing even though we really are from the same world.

Before we arrived tonight, I asked Massimo if it was alright that I stuck around for a while after dinner. I offered to let him leave and got a ride back later. His agreement to stay with me was unprecedented.

I could be hallucinating, but I swear Massimo is enjoying tonight. We’re all congregated in the sitting room off the kitchen, and Salvatore chose the seat next to him. Sal looks like a grown man talking to him right now. His chest puffed out, and one ankle crossed over his knee, mirroring Massimo. I can only imagine what their conversation is like. Salvatore is so mature for his age, and well, Massimo is Massimo. Even Tullio has difficulty being warm towards his son, and he isn’t as stern as Massimo.

Massimo looks so relaxed at this very moment. His tense and massive shoulders aren’t as stiff, and the lines between his brows are faint creases, not crevices. This proves that he is, in fact, capable of being human.

I sit and observe as Alba makes her way around the room by holding herself up on things. She has grown so much over the past month, and it only makes me realize how much she’ll keep growing and how much I’ll be missing. She’s so close to walking, and I hate that I won’t be around for her first real steps.

She’s inching closer and closer to Massimo, and I’m eager for his reaction. When her hands make it to his knees, I stifle a giggle as I watch the two of them stare at each other. Both trying to figure the other one out. Friend or foe.

After moments of staring him down, she starts babbling away at him, and he cracks a rare smile. Not a smirk or a vicious grin. Gleaming white teeth and crinkles around his eyes kind of smile. His large hand tentatively reaches out to stroke her soft brown curls on top of her head like petting a kitten, and the look in his eyes when he does it makes my heart do that weird flapping thing in my chest again.

We still have yet to talk about children. I’m too chicken-shit to start that conversation. Children come from sex, and no matter how sexy or handsome I find him and how much I want to climb him like a tree, I’m terrified of it. I’ve always been the controlling one sexually, but I’ve never been with a true alpha before, and Massimo is definitely a true alpha. Am I ready to give up that control? WillIbe able to handlehim? The shiver down my spine only frightens me more.

It’s getting late when we finally say our goodbyes and return to his estate. I guess I should start calling it home now.

“Massimo.” I look at him, and he gives me his undivided attention. “We haven’t discussed our terms of reproduction, and I think we should.” My voice is steady when I’m shaking inside.

His lips twitch. “I agree.” He pauses. “Ladies first.”

“Obviously, we should have children. You need an heir, and I would like to be a mother someday. But I’m still young and would like to wait a few years.”

“How many years are we talking?”

“Well, I’m just going on twenty-two, so I do have a lot of years left on my maternal clock. There’d be no reason to rush things.”

“How many years are we talking?” he repeats.

I guess I am beating around the bush here. “Six.” That’ll make me about twenty-eight. It's a good age to start having children, I think.

“Three.”

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