Page 39 of Luca
I turned to Nonno who sat beside me in the car. “Yes, she’s the one,” I said without an ounce of doubt. She had been the one since she was that five-year-old girl I was willing to fight my father for, and die for.
Nonno’s eyes flicked to the large estate, then back to me.
“I’m happy to hear that,nipote,” he replied. He might call Cassio and me his grandsons, but truthfully, we were his sons. The ones he never had. And he raised us as such. “I’ve been waiting a long time to see you and Cassio settled.”
It was true. He’d been saying for years he refused to leave this Earth until Cassio and I started our own families. He worried too much about us. Even with the families we’d formed with our friends, he wanted to see us settled. Luciano was the first of the men to get married, but it also spurred Nonno to remind us more often that it was time for us to get settled too.
“When can I expect my youngest grandson’s wedding?” he demanded to know, knocking his cane against the floor of the car. Then he leaned against it and cleared his throat. “I need to see you wed, my child, so I can finally rest. Your mamma and Nonna are waiting for me.”
My chest tightened. I didn’t like to think about Nonno dying. He’d been the only parent Cassio and I had ever known. Our father was just a cruel bastard. He couldn’t be considered anything else. He might have not sliced our mother’s wrists, but he pushed her into it.
“She doesn’t want me,” I said. A sardonic feeling pulled in my chest. It was the first time I uttered those words out loud. “Yet,” I added.
Failing wasn’t an option. She and our unborn child were the reason I was here, ready to make a deal with Marchetti. I’d do anything to save her life. Our child’s life.
The car came to a stop. One last shared look and Nonno’s nod.
The moment Nonno and I exited the car, four men came behind us and two men stood in front of us. Guido had Nonno’s back. I didn’t need bodyguards, although at this moment, I wished I had some reinforcements.
We were escorted through the large marble foyer and into the office where Marchetti, aged forty-five leaned back in his chair, ruling his kingdom. There weren’t many people who had seen Enrico Marchetti up close. Probably better for the female population, because even his rare photographs in the paper had women going wild.
Of course, he didn’t compare to me.
“Signore DiMauro,” he greeted Nonno first.
“Enrico, thank you for seeing me and my nipote.” My grandfather tired quicker these days, so I helped him into the first empty chair.
“Of course. You and my father were close,” Enrico retorted. “Caffè? Cappuccino?”
It was the one thing I didn’t miss about Italy. The only thing. Their constant need to drink a goddamn coffee.
Nonno’s eyes traveled over the room, memories practically dancing in his eyes.
“I remember days when your father and I spent many hours in this office,” Nonno remarked.
Enrico’s lips barely tipped up. “I remember those days too.”
Nonno chuckled. “You wanted to jump right into the business but your father wanted to give you time to burn some energy out.”
I had to stop myself from rolling my eyes.
“Let’s get straight to business,” I interrupted their reminiscing. “We are here to discuss Margaret Callahan.”
Enrico gave me a hard look. Nonno wasn’t far behind him.
“Living in America has made you too rash,” Enrico remarked dryly.
I sat back in his office chair. “Well, when it's a matter of life and death, I like to speed things along and leave the caffè for some other time.”
Enrico ran a thumb across his jaw. “Do pray tell. What’s the urgency then?”
“You have a hit on Margaret Callahan,” I said coldly.
His eyebrow cocked. If there was one man who rivaled my arrogance, it was this man.
“And that is your concern how?” he said dryly.
“I’m going to marry her.”She just doesn’t know it yet.But he didn’t need to know that.
