Page 23 of Mafia Men Need Love Too
She was starting to feel dumb for not having asked any questions when the SUV pulled off the road and parallel parked between a couple of cars so normal looking, they made Nico’s vehicle (which was probably bullet proof and had windows tinted so dark it couldn’t possibly be street legal) stand out even more.
River glanced out the window. “This is a jewelry store.”
Her stupid observation seemed to amuse him. “If anyone is to believe we’re engaged, we need to get you a ring.”
For some reason, that hadn’t occurred to her. Maybe she really was dumb. How depressing. “Well, we wouldn’t have to get a ring here. This place looks expensive.”
A frown line creased his brow. “Why would I buy my fiancée a cheap ring?”
“You wouldn’t…but I’m not the fiancée you chose, I’m one that was forced on you. You don’t have to buy me something expensive.”
She swallowed a squeak when he caught her chin between his thumb and forefinger, forcing her to look him in the eye. “Make no mistake, fiorellino, I chose you.”
And that’s how he managed to hustle her into a jewelry store she never would’ve set foot in otherwise. She’d been frugal even before Jeremy ruined her financially. The idea of spending more than what a starter home in the suburbs cost on a purely decorative item made her thrift-store-loving heart cry out in agony.
But having a man who looked like Nico tell her he chose her—her—struck her mute, so she hadn’t been able to argue how utterly impractical this whole thing was.
That didn’t mean she had to accept an expensive ring, though. She’d just say she didn’t like anything here. That way, they’d be forced to leave, and she could suggest a secondhand shop or antique store for something more sensible. Recycling a used ring was just good business. And that’s what this whole shame of an engagement was about…right?
Which is how she found the strength to tell the very sweet old man named Stanley, who owned the shop, that she wasn’t pleased by any of the ring trays he showed her. He’d pull out a new tray, looking all hopeful and eager to please, and she’d wave it away with a polite but firm, “No thank you.”
She’d have to send him a nice note after they left, because his crestfallen expression every time he failed to show her a ring she liked was killing her.
Nico seemed to be on to her game, though. After the third—or was it fourth?—rejected tray, he pulled her aside. “What are you doing?”
She blinked up at him. “What do you mean? I’m looking at engagement rings, just like you told me to.”
His eyes narrowed. “You’ve barely glanced at a single ring.”
Pfffttt. That was patently untrue. She’d at the very least glanced at the prices, which were ridiculous. She shrugged. “They just aren’t my style.”
Which, technically, wasn’t a lie, even if she wasn’t considering the prices. She’d never been a huge fan of diamonds. Emeralds were her jam.
Nico gave her an assessing head-to-toe scan that made her shift uncomfortably from one foot to the other and bite down on her lower lip to stop a nervous flow of chatter. But after what felt like an eternity, he turned to Stanley and said, “Show us what you have in rubies…”
She felt oddly triumphant, knowing full well she didn’t care for rubies, either.
Until he added, “And emeralds. And hide the prices, please.”
Damn it. He was good. Hiding her reaction to emeralds would be harder, but she could do it. She just had to be strong.
Nico took her elbow and guided her back to the counter where Stanley was gleefully laying out rubies and emeralds so beautiful they looked like they’d been created by elves in the Undying Lands for Galadriel herself. “I don’t think I…”
Her voice trailed off when she saw it.
It was gorgeous. A choir of angels started singing in her head when she laid eyes on the only ring she’d ever need in her life.
The emerald, which was at least 2 carats, glittered with the brilliance of a thousand suns, its audacity almost criminal. It was cradled in a halo of diamonds, set on a band of stunning white gold, every bit of it catching the light just so. Wars had been waged for rings less beautiful than this one. She’d sell her soul for this ring.
If she hadn’t already sold it to the mafia, that is.
“Did you know that emeralds are 20 times rarer than diamonds?” she whispered, wide eyes on the ring, unblinking, like she’d morphed into Gollum.
“I didn’t,” Nico said at the same time Stanley said, “I did!”
“They were reportedly Cleopatra’s favorite,” she added. “They’ve been around for almost 3 billion years.”
Nico chuckled, plucking the ring from its velvet cushion. He lifted her hand and slid it on her finger.
