A tear escapes her beautiful eyes and trickles down her cheek. Calming her trembling bottom lip with my thumb, I brush the lonely tear away, and another follows. “Thank you for what you did, Massimo. It won’t bring back my father, but your actions speak volumes.”
I move in closer when she sniffles. “I hope it proves to you my loyalty and devotion.” Lifting her left hand, I press a kiss to her finger, still adorned with the ring I gave to her.
“It does.” She attempts a watery smile.
“I understand if you want to postpone the wedding,cara mia. If you need time, take all that you need. Know that I’m not going anywhere.”
Her face falls as she gawks up at me. “You…really still want to marry me?”
“I do.” I tuck some of her hair behind her ear and caress her cheek. Admiring her beauty I missed so much. “Were you not listening to a word I said?” I muse.
“You said you loved me and chose me, but we don’t have to get married. At least, not yet. We can just be together.”
There’s this weird twisting feeling in my chest. “You don’t want to marry me…” I despise the fragility betrayed by my own words.
“It’s just that…we don’t have to.”
I thought we were on the same page. That she possibly loved me back. Seems I’ve read the situation wrong. “Sure.” I swallow hard and take a step back. Fighting the urge to demand what I want.
“Massimo.” She jumps to me and cups my face. Panic in her eyes as she searches mine. “I love you too, I do,” she rushes out. “But if we’re going to do this thing for real, for love and not for an alliance, shouldn’t we try and do this right? We still hardly know each other and—”
I take her around the waist to pull her body into mine. “We know each other enough. I told you my love is not a fickle thing. When I love, it’s perpetual and set in stone. I don’t see the point in waiting, Alessia. I want to marry you.” I tighten my arms around her. “Sposami.”Marry me, I rasp. “Be my wife, myregina.”
Her eyes dance around, then her pouty lips curl into a seraphic smile. “Okay,” she whispers.
“Ti amo.” Another tear slips down her other cheek, and I’m reminded once again of her loss. Tullio warned me that she has yet properly mourn and to be gentle with her. She’s been doing her damnedest to be strong for everyone else, completely neglecting herself and her grief.
“Ti amo tanto.” Her arms go around my neck, and her head falls back. “Baciami.”
Chapter twenty-eight
Alessia
“Hey, Mamma. Let’s get you looking more like yourself,” I say as I brush the dry shampoo through her hair. I set the hairbrush down to pull out the makeup bag. “A little too thin and pale, but still beautiful,” I mutter as I begin to sweep some powder on her life-lacking skin.
The door to her room creaks open as I apply some blush to her cheekbones. We have guards outside her room twenty-four seven, so I’m not concerned and continue catering to Mamma. Sleeping beauty, we like to call her.
“She looks good,” a dry but feminine voice comes behind me.
Turning around, I come face to face with Vita. The youngest De Luca, also known as the family’s recluse, is always disappearing or finding herself in some trouble. Someone I always thought I would get along with, but she does her damnedest to be unreachable. However, her desperation for attention is quite apparent.
“Hey, Vita. How are you?”
“Better than you.” She comes further into the room and makes herself at home on the sleeper couch. She’d be stunning if it weren’t for the permanent sour look on her face. Her hair is lighter than Massimo’s, but her eyes are dark. She’s not as tall as her sister, but she’s still taller than average height for a woman.
“Most people are.” I sigh and focus on pampering Mamma. “So, to what do I owe this great pleasure of an impromptu visit from the infamous Vita De Luca?”
“Just bored.”
I glance over at her and find her inspecting her nails, feigning boredom. “So, you thought you’d take a trip over to the hospital to visit a woman you could give two shits about that is still in an induced coma?” I arch an eyebrow at her, and her eyes roll up to meet mine.
“Yup,” she pops. A giggle bubbles out as I shake my head and turn back to Mamma. “So. Do you…know what’s going on with my father?”
Keeping a phlegmatic front going, I don’t flinch or falter. “He’s getting exactly what he deserves.” Meaning a lifelong sentence of torture and pain.
“And what is that exactly?”
“Punishment for killing my father and almost killing my mother.”