Page 32 of Bellini Bound
Before long, I found myself spending every day with her and her girls, and even staying for dinner too.
I wanted to feel bad about crashing their family time, but the thought of going back to that mausoleum of a mansion alone kept me accepting the dinner invitation night after night.
It was strange dining with the man whom I now knew was the head of the entire criminal enterprise. Not only did he bear a striking—albeit more clean-cut—resemblance to my estranged husband, but he was not at all what I expected.
For starters, he was extremely affectionate with his wife. His dark eyes lit up anytime she entered the room, and it quickly became apparent that his love language was physical touch. If Summer was within reach, his hands were on her, and I’d witnessed how the body contact caused him to visibly relax, the tension leaving his body almost instantly.
Then there was the relationship he shared with his daughters. Matteo was a hands-on dad. He got down on their level to speak with them, helped with bathtime, and read bedtime stories. Hell, I’d even witnessed him attending a pretend tea party hosted by Bianca. His large frame had threatened to turn the tiny chair into kindling as he perched on the edge of it, donning an oversized floppy hat and holding a pinky out as he sipped the non-existent beverage.
Even if Summer hadn’t explained how she’d gone from being the girls’ nanny to his wife, I could imagine how easy it would be to fall for the charming man who doted on his daughters.
If only Enzo shared an ounce of his cousin’s compassion instead of being cold-hearted and cruel.
I didn’t miss him. Not even on the nights when the loneliness became almost too much to bear.
“I got the polish!” Bianca returned, holding up a caddy containing her nail products.
I wiggled my fingers. “What’s your color recommendation?”
The four-year-old tapped a finger against her lips before giving a single nod and declaring, “Pink.”
A genuine smile—the kind that only this girl and her baby sister had been able to coax from me since the start of my unwanted marriage—curved on my lips. “How did you know that’s my favorite color?”
Bianca beamed. “Because I’m the bestest guesser.”
“You sure are,” I agreed.
My pseudo-niece turned to Summer. “Mommy, can you do a braid crown for Aunt Allie, so when we play dress-up, she can be the princess?”
I stiffened immediately. All I could hear in my head was Enzo, his voice dripping with disdain as he mockingly called me a princess.
Summer bumped my shoulder, teasing, “Well, aren’t you lucky. Ineverget to be the princess.”
“Mom-my,” Bianca scolded. “That’s because you’re the queen, remember?”
“Darn it, you’re right!”
The little girl came close, whispering conspiratorially. “That’s what Papa calls her.”
Like I needed another reminder that I’d landed the wrong Bellini man.
Shaking off my mental pity party for one, I asked, “Who will play the king since your dad’s at work?”
Summer chimed in. “Queens can rule all on their own, can’t they, B?”
The ponytail atop Bianca’s head shook with the force of her firm nod. “Girls rule. Boys drool.”
Laughter bubbled up from my chest. “Looks like your mom taught you the basics.”
My adult companion shrugged. “It’s hard enough being born into a family that values male heirs—which I think is complete bullshit by the way—so I’m determined to go out of my way to make sure my girls understand that their worth, their power, shouldn’t be determined by any man. I figured the old playground adage was as good a place as any to start.”
“That’s some A-plus parenting. I love it.”
She stood to curtsy, pretending to hold out a nonexistent skirt. “Why, thank you, Princess Allie.”
“Not yet!” Bianca admonished. “We have to be dressed up first.”
“You’re absolutely right. I’m sorry.” Though she kept her tone sincere for her daughter’s sake, Summer’s gaze lifted to mine, her eyes full of mirth as she bit back a smile.
