Page 71 of Forgotten Deeds

Sammy laughs, a knife somehow appearing in his hand. He tosses it in the air, and I hold my breath as it falls, but he expertly catches it by the handle.

“Enough,” Romeo says in a bored tone.

“Seriously, put that thing away,” Valentina tells Sammy, exasperated. “Sorry, we can’t take him anywhere,” she tells me.

Nonna appears in the doorway, announcing something in Italian. “Come, come. Let’s eat.”

Nicky whispers to me, “Do not, under any circumstances, tell Nonna you’re full. Trust me.”

“Alright,” I say, confused.

We enter the dining room, where Darius pulls out my chair for me. Food’s passed around the table, and I try my best to keep up with the lively conversation that switches between Italian and English.

“Nonna, you and Valentina are moving in with me and Nicky,” Romeo declares.

“I just got out of Antonio’s prison, and now you’re trying to put me in yours!” Valentina crosses her arms. “No fucking way.”

“Language,” Nonna chastises her granddaughter.

“You can take the pool house if you need more privacy,” Romeo offers. “Renovate it however you wish.”

She considers, finally saying, “I’ll think about it.”

“There’s nothing to think about,” Romeo corrects her. “Nonna?”

“Kitchen not big enough,” she says dismissively.

“I’ll build a bigger kitchen,” Romeo tells her.

Nonna smiles. “Give me pronipoti, then we talk.”

I don’t know what that means, but Nicky must, because she throws back her wine glass.

The dessert course is served, and while I’m beyond full, I heed Nicky’s warning.

“We have some business to discuss,” Romeo declares, kissing Nicky before standing.

“Always business,” Nonna chastises, waving him away.

“Be back in a little bit,” Darius whispers to me, giving me a kiss on the top of my head.

“Don’t miss me while I’m gone,” Sammy tells Nonna, and she shoos him away with a smile.

Valentina rolls her eyes so hard I’m afraid they’ll get lost in the back of her head. When the men leave the room, she turns to me with narrowed eyes. “Explain to me how I didn’t get to plan your wedding?” Valentina crosses her arms, and Nicky quietly chuckles.

“There was no planning; it was a very spontaneous thing.” Now there’s an understatement.

“Fine, but that means I get to throw you and Darius a little reception.” She rubs her hands together with excitement.

“That would be so nice,” I tell her.

“Be careful what you sign up for,” Nicky warns me with a wry smile, pouring herself another glass of wine before topping off my glass.

“Excuse me, but the ‘it’ wedding of the year doesn’t just happen,” Valentina says, exasperated. “Speaking of—”

“No more wedding planning. Not tonight,” Nicky pleads.

“Fine.” Valentina pulls out her phone. “When do you want to schedule our next sit-down?”

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