Page 77 of Savage Vows

“Ready to roll when you are, boss.”

When I nod, the guards move out of the room, leaving me alone with Alessia.

“I’m so sorry, Matteo.”

I have no words, just a need for immediate action. “I’ll be back as soon as I can. Get some rest.”

Her brows knit together, and her eyes flash with defiance. “I’m going with you.”

I sigh. “This isn’t a debate, Alessia.”

Standing her ground, she tilts her head in challenge. “I’m no stranger to waiting rooms, Matteo,” she reminds me. “You don’t get to decide that I have to stay home. He’s your father.”

Her implication is clear.

He’s also part of her life, and that means she gets to be there whether I like it or not.

Spoken like a Mafia bride. Still, my mouth tightens. I don’t have time to argue with her. “It’s not safe.”

“We both know it’s not safe for you either,” she counters, her voice steady, unwavering. “Probably even more dangerous.” With a breath, she goes on. “I don’t want to be here alone, wondering. Let me be by your side. You’ll need all the support you can get.”

“I have my family.”

She winces at the coldness in my tone and the implication that I don’t need anything else.

Her conviction makes me hesitate. She’s scared—I hear it in her voice, see the way her hands are shaking—but there’s strength in the tilt of her chin, the set of her shoulders. Pride flickers in my chest, as unexpected as it is undeniable.

And in times of crisis, a show of strength and unity is more important than ever. Having my future wife at my side could be advantageous.

“The longer you argue, the more our departure is delayed.”

I consider her.

“Please, Matteo.”

My future wife has figured out how to get anything she wants from me. Damn it all. An argumentative, stubborn Alessia, I can ignore. But a kind, considerate one? I’m fucked.

“Fine.” I don’t like it. I want her here where I know she’s protected. “But you stay by my side. No arguing. You move when I move. And follow every one of my instructions, no matter what.”

“I understand.” She meets my eyes. There’s compassion in her gaze—steady and grounding—that makes it easier to face the chaos and uncertainty that lies ahead.

My phone rings again, and with the situation at hand, I can’t ignore it.

“I need two minutes to change,” Alessia tells me.

“Make it one.” I unzip her dress for her. Then I call out to Chiara. Not surprisingly she’s still in the hallway.

“Stay with her.”

“Of course, sir.”

I look at my phone screen.

Dante.

I answer immediately as I jog down the stairs to the kitchen where my soldiers are gathered.

“I’m with Mamma.” He’s talking before I even answer. “She knows.”

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