Page 8 of Welcome to the Sins of Blackstone
We all walkinto the house. I take my suit jacket off and throw it on the couch.
Mom and Camilla start talking about some shopping trip they have planned, my father sits in silence, checking his phone. Already thinking about business, the shipment. Maybe I should be thinking about it, but there is only one thing on my mind.
I lean back, tilting my head back. I glance over at my father. "You asked about marriage."
Silence.
My mother stops mid-sentence, turning her head sharply. Camilla’s mouth parts slightly, eyes widening. Luca, across from me, raises an eyebrow but stays quiet.
My father doesn’t react at first. He’s a man who values patience. Control. Power. So, I know I have to give him a moment to think about what he wants to say to me.
Slowly, he puts his phone down, slips it into his pocket, and meets my eyes. "Did we?"
My lips curl slightly. "Yes, you did."
He studies me for a long moment then nods once. "And in the small time since the conversation this morning, you’ve had a change of heart?”
"I have," I agree. "But I already have the girl I want." If this is happening, it’s to have a woman next to me, but it will be the one I choose, not him.
He leans back, crossing one leg over the other, tapping his fingers in a slow rhythm on his knee. "Go on."
"Maria."
His fingers stop tapping. Silence falls in the room. My mother exhales sharply, like she’s just been slapped. Camilla looks between us, her eyes narrowing like she can’t believe what she just heard, and my brother, well he has the biggest smug smile on his face I think I’ve ever seen.
My father, though he just watches me. Then, after what feels like an eternity, he chuckles.
"Maria Rossi?" he muses, shaking his head. "The priest’s niece?"
"That’s right."
"That’s a bold choice."
"I don’t give a fuck."
He grins. A proud, wicked grin that tells me he’s impressed, that I just played the game right. My mother, however, is not impressed.
She sighs heavily, pressing her fingers to her temples. "Massimo," she warns. "That girl is not?—"
"She’s perfect." I say it too fast, like if I don’t, she’ll ruin the moment.
The smirk on my father’s face widens. "And does she want you?"
I tilt my head. "She will."
He laughs. A full, deep laugh. "You’re my son, alright."
My mother shakes her head, like she’s praying for divine intervention. Too late for that.
I know a church girl is the last thing my mother wants, she already hates half the things we do, Maria will hate them all.
My father nods, a decision made. "If she’s the one you want, then we’ll make it happen."
A dark satisfaction blooms in my chest.
Because Maria Rossi is mine.
She just doesn’t know it yet.
