Page 31 of Savage Vows

“I didn’t have a say in the matter,” she confesses. “Nico handled it all on his own. Don’t get me wrong. I love it. But something smaller would be more practical.”

Another word that doesn’t seem to fit the Moretti men.

A few minutes later, Gina excuses herself to take coffee to the men, and Bella moves closer to me.

“How are you holding up?”

Caught off guard by the question, I consider her. “In what way?”

“I know this marriage isn’t your choice. I was a reluctant bride too.”

Her admission stuns me. She and Nico seem so in tune with one another, and absolutely in love.

“But you don’t have to face it alone. Gina is lovely, and I’m here for you. I’ll give you my contact information before we leave. We can get together for coffee or a drink.”

“If Matteo will let me.” The words are out before I can stop them.

She narrows her eyes. “Are you serious?”

“Forgive me.” With a smile, I try to cover my lapse. “I shouldn’t have said anything.”

“Don’t worry about a thing.”

I shake my head, touched by her kindness, but I can’t drag her into my issues. Besides, there’s a chance she’ll tell Nico what I said. As the family’s trusted advisor, he’d be expected to repeat the information to the don or Matteo.

Gina bustles back into the kitchen, carrying the empty pot. Immediately she sets about filling the coffeemaker again. Then she enters the pantry, returning with a large, covered platter. “Surprise.” She lifts the foil and shows off a beautifully frosted chocolate cake. “It’s for you. Matteo says chocolate’s your favorite.”

“He’s right.” But I never expected him to mention that to his mom. “You shouldn’t have gone to this much effort.”

“My way of making you feel welcome. And since it’s yours, you don’t have to share. I have tiramisu for everyone else.”

“You really were thinking of me when you made the cake?” I’m touched beyond words. “No one has ever done anything like that for me before.”

“Not even for your birthday?”

“My mother …” The words catch in my throat, and tears sting my eyes. Bravely I blink them back. “I’m sure you know she died when I was young. I only remember cakes from the bakery while she was alive. Then … Well, my father doesn’t really believe in celebrating.” I shrug. Not birthday or Christmas.

“He doesn’t throw birthday parties for you?” she demands, her disbelief hanging in the air.

“Just another day.” I shrug.

She and Bella exchange glances. “When is it?”

“First part of April.”

“Well, this year will be different.” Gina nods.

I smile, and I don’t protest. If I have my way, I’ll be overseas again by then.

“Bella, be a dear and get the creamers out of the fridge.”

One of them is vanilla.Matteo again?

“Alessia, if you don’t mind”—she points—”the tiramisu is on the counter.”

“You’re being put to work on day one,” Bella teases.

“We’re all family,” Gina says. Then she looks at me. “Would you like to keep the cake for yourself? I can cut a piece for you and then wrap the rest for you to take home.”

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