Page 12 of Mafia King of Lies

I duck my head and turn to the side to hide my heated face from him.

“Maria.”

I keep my gaze averted, not daring to look his way. Why do I feel so mortified?

His hand comes up to cup the side of my face. He gently draws me toward him so I can meet his gaze. There’s a gentleness in his eyes that eases the slight chaos inside me.

“In the world we live in, your virtue is gold, Maria. Own that.” He strokes his thumb against my cheek. “There’s nothing to be embarrassed or shy about at all. And to be honest, I think it’s quite admirable that you’ve kept your innocence for so long. Most women are… loose these days, and willing to let anyone between their legs.”

“But aren’t you used to more experienced women? What if… I don’t satisfy you the way you need me to? I know sex is a very big part of marriage, and I need to make sure that you enjoy it with me.”

His eyes smolder with a gentle warmth. “And we can take things as slow as you want. We don’t need to dive in headfirst.” He drops his hand from my face, and I lean away from him, feeling a little awkward.

“Take it slow?”

He nods. “We’re going to be together for the rest of our lives. We can take things in stride. I’m not in a rush for anything—are you?”

I shake my head. The weight that’s been pressing on my chest since my brother’s wake lifts a little, and some of the anxiety I’ve been carrying subsides. This is all going far better than I hoped it would.

“Good. So don’t stress or feel embarrassed. And as far as wives go, I don’t think you’re all that bad of a pick, do you?” He kicks his feet in the water. He turns his head to the side and shoots me a smirk that leaves my insides fluttering. “Easy on the eyes, knows how to hold a fucking conversation, and doesn’t like pineapple on her pizza.”

A laugh rumbles from my lips. “Thank God I don’t like pineapple.”

“Anyone who likes it is inhumane, in my opinion. And we’re Italian—isn’t it heresy to like it on our sacred dish?” He chuckles and dips his hand into the water. He swirls his fingers about before lifting them and flicking me with water.

I let out a little shriek that didn’t sound like it came from me at all. Who am I right now? I’m not this gushy, girly kind of person. But I guess Daniele has a way of bringing out the little girl in me.

Our laughter fades, and we settle into a comfortable silence. We sit and listen to the birds chirping in the trees and the gentle breeze that whistles through the leaves around us. I love our backyard—it’s one of the places I like to spend most of my time.

“I’m sorry about your brother, M.” Daniele nudges his shoulder against mine. “I know how close you were with him.”

I knead my fingers together in my lap and stare at the water.

“Thank you.” I bite down on my lower lip, not wanting to dwell too much on the negative emotions. “I know this should’ve come sooner, but I’m sorry about your mother. I don’t think I ever reached out when she died.”

His eyes soften. “It’s okay. We had lost touch at that point, and I had my dad, so… it’s okay. I think she would be over the moon if she knew we were getting married. I remember how she used to tease us about getting married—and how you’d be the perfect bride for me.”

Beatrice had wanted us to get married. She didn’t have any other children besides him, so she viewed me as her daughter. She always gushed to my mother about what the wedding would look like. Only now, hearing him say this, does my mind take me back.

That’s where my crush began.

We talk by the pool for what seems like minutes, but it turns out to be two hours. We joke, laugh, and tease each other like we’ve known each other all our lives. I learn more about the manhe’s become, and he asks me questions about the woman I am—and hope to be.

For the most part, we steer clear of any wedding or marriage talk, which I’m grateful for. But at the end of our conversation, he walks me back to my room—bare feet against the cool marble floor. We come to a halt by my door. He hands me my shoes, and we just stand there, staring at each other with the goofiest grins.

“Thank you for today. I had a great time getting to know you all over again,” I say, smiling up at him.

He steps closer, the space between us almost non-existent. For a moment, I think he’s going to kiss me. My eyes flutter shut as I feel him inch closer—but his lips never meet mine. Instead, I feel the soft brush of a kiss against my cheek before he pulls back and stands to his full height.

“You thought I was going to kiss you, Faravelli?” His warm caramel eyes lock onto mine, dancing beneath the hallway lights. “On the first day? I’m a gentleman. I’ll wait until tomorrow.”

With a wink and a kiss on the back of my hand, he saunters down the hallway toward the stairs—leaving me floating on cloud nine.

I want to believe this is truly going to work out. That this arrangement might actually become something good.

But if life has taught me anything, it’s that everything can change in the blink of an eye.

Thunder rumblesthrough the walls of my bedroom, and I jolt upright in a cold sweat. My chest rises and falls rapidly as I struggle to calm my panic. I run a hand through my messy hair and lean against the headboard.

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