Page 24 of Mafia Shade's Reluctant Bride
And I wasn’t about to let her forget it.
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Enrico sat at the head of the long mahogany table, his fingers steepled and his expression cold. The man always had a way of making everything feel like a courtroom. He peered at Maria, then at me, suspicion practically oozing from his pores.
Maria, on the other hand, looked like she couldn’t care less. She leaned back in her chair, arms folded, and lips curled into something between a smirk and pure boredom. Bold and reckless, that’s how she had always been. And, apparently, that hadn’t changed.
“Maria,” Enrico began, his voice like the scrape of metal against stone, “I must say, your sudden return is… surprising.”
Maria cocked her head. “Missed me, Uncle?”
I had to press my lips together to keep from laughing. Enrico’s eye twitched, his patience thinning.
“You’ll forgive me if I don’t believe you suddenly grew sentimental about your home.”
“Oh, you’re right,” she mused. “I came back for the charming family dinners.”
This time, I did laugh. Just a quiet chuckle, but enough for Enrico to shift his glare to me.
“And you,” he continued, voice clipped. “Still willing to marry a woman who left you at the altar? I must say, Lorenzo, I thought you had more dignity than that.”
My fingers drummed against the armrest. “Well, Enrico, dignity doesn’t really cut it for me. I am more of a practical man, and, practically, Maria is the right fit for me.”
He didn’t appreciate my honesty. But I didn’t appreciate being questioned like some fool desperate for scraps.
“That’s exactly my concern, your practicality,” Enrico said, leaning forward. “I have consulted with my lawyers, and there is one glaring issue.” He paused, letting the silence stretch. Dramatic as ever. “You know the terms in the will. This marriage must be real.”
Maria let out a breath as if already exhausted. “And?”
Enrico’s gaze sharpened. “And I must be convinced of your love.”
My lips parted. “Excuse me?”
Maria shot up straighter in her chair. “That’s ridiculous. Who exactly are you that we have to convince you that we are in love?”
“Ridiculous?” Enrico’s smirk was slow, smug. “Maria, your track record isn’t exactly convincing. You ran once before. What’s stopping you from doing it again?”
Maria scoffed, “And that questions my love for him?”
“Yes,” Enrico hummed, eyes gleaming with amusement, “Love, dear niece—is unpredictable.”
Maria and I exchanged a glance.
I wasn’t sure what was worse: pretending to love Maria in front of Enrico or pretending I hadn’t spent years trying to bury the very real feelings that still crawled under my skin whenever she was near, the real feelings that felt like I wasn’t pretending.
The lawyer cleared his throat. “The court, however, will have to assess the legitimacy of this marriage. If there is suspicion, the inheritance could be contested.”
Maria inhaled sharply. “You’re insane.”
“Insane,” Enrico echoed. “Or thorough?”
Maria exhaled, rubbing her temples. “So let me get this straight. You want me and Lorenzo to prance around, play house, be happy in front of people, and convince you and some lawyers that we are madly in love?”
“Precisely.”
I nearly winced at the look Maria shot at me. We stood up and left him without any other word.
“Well,” she muttered, turning to me, “ready to fall in love, darling?”
