Page 41 of Mafia Don's Twisted Proposal
I snort. “My high school guidance counselor, my first boss, that barista at Starbucks who always judges my order?—”
“Mia.” His voice stops my spiral. “Trust me.”
Before I can respond, he’s reaching around my neck with something that weighs more than my purse. When he fastens the clasp and turns me toward the bathroom mirror, I gasp.
Rubies. Huge, perfect rubies surrounded by diamonds that catch the light like tiny stars. The necklace probably costs more than my annual salary. Possibly more than my car.
“It’s too much,” I whisper, even though I’m already in love with it.
“My wife should be spoiled,” he says, his fingers trailing down my arms. “That’s what I want. Well, that and seeing you wearing this necklace in bed.Onlythis necklace.”
Heat pools low in my belly. “Then let’s get this party over with.”
The backyard has been transformed into something out of a fairy tale.
The pool has been covered with a clear, polished surface that creates a dance floor literally over water. Colored underwater lights make the whole thing glow like something magical. White silk draping hangs from the pergola, which has been extended and decorated with thousands of tiny lights that twinkle like stars. The outdoor kitchen has been taken over by caterers in crisp white uniforms, and the smell of garlic and herbs makes my mouth water.
Round tables with white linens and towering centerpieces of white roses dot the space. A string quartet is set up near the pool-dance floor, though they haven’t started playing yet. And there’s a three-tier wedding cake on a dedicated table that makes me raise an eyebrow at Lorenzo.
“Figured we could enjoy a few wedding traditions we missed when we eloped,” he says with a shrug.
“You mean when you tricked me into marrying you?” I tease, because honestly, I’m past being angry about it. When I decided to stop running, I made peace with the weird circumstances of our marriage.
“I wouldn’t say I tricked you. I used a unique form of persuasion.”
My laugh echoes across the yard, and Lorenzo takes my arm as waiters appear with champagne flutes on silver trays. I grab one and take a sip just as the first guests arrive.
My friends won’t be here until later, so the evening starts with meeting Lorenzo’s people. And when I say Lorenzo’s people, I mean the entire Las Vegas mafia, apparently.
The first man approaching us is clearly Lorenzo’s son—same dark hair, same commanding presence, just with less intensity since he doesn’t carry the weight of being Don yet. The gorgeous woman beside him has kind eyes and an easy smile.
“Mia, this is Dario and his wife, Paige,” Lorenzo says, and I can hear the pride in his voice. Family matters to him, and despite my complicated relationship with mine, I respect that.
“It’s nice to meet you,” Dario says. His handshake is firm but friendly.
“Welcome to the family,” Paige adds with genuine warmth. “God knows we need more women around here. The testosterone levels are getting dangerous.”
She winks, and I immediately like her.
Next comes Lorenzo’s brother Paolo with his wife Quinn, followed by his sister and her son, Alessio. Then Luca saunters over with a knowing grin that makes me suspicious.
“You ready to be the center of attention?” he asks.
Dario smacks the back of his head. “Don’t freak her out, idiot.”
“Don’t worry,” Lorenzo says, squeezing my hand. “I’ll steal her away if it gets too intense.”
The reassurance helps, because suddenly the backyard fills with people. Lots of people. I’m introduced to more names than I could memorize in a year, so I stop trying and just smile and shake hands. Lorenzo stays glued to my side, introducing me as his wife with that same pride he showed when presenting his son.
It’s...nice. Overwhelming, but nice.
Everyone wants to know my story—where I’m from, what I do, who my family is. I answer the same questions so many times I feel like a broken record. The life and times of Mia Becerra, condensed version.
But the weird part? They’re all genuinely interested. Not judging, not dismissive. They treat me with the same respect they show Lorenzo, like I automatically inherited some kind of power just by being his wife.
It’s intoxicating.
When we finally make it to our table, I’m seated between Lorenzo and Paige, with Dario and Luca across from us. The food is incredible, authentic Italian that makes me want to weep with joy, and the quartet starts playing soft background music.
