Page 32 of The Don's Prisoner

“Two weeks from now,” Nonna suddenly announced, interrupting a heated discussion about cars between Gio and his father and Isabella telling me about grad school. We all looked her way and waited for her to continue.

“Mom?” Dario asked.

“We will have the wedding two weeks from now. No need to wait, when it’s clear that she will fit right in. So, the sooner they get married, the sooner they can work on giving me great-grandchildren to spoil.” She looked at Gio. “Besides, it is time for you to settle down, and if we give you any more time, you are bound to screw it up. Best to make it official before she gets away.”

“Nonna…” Gio started, but I squeezed his hand to let him know it was okay.

“That’s a big undertaking,” I interjected. “A wedding in two weeks? Do you think we can pull it off?” I asked, wanting to tell her “no”. But at the same time, I had already said “yes” to Gio. I was planning on marrying him, so what was the difference between getting married in two weeks versus getting married in two months? Or six? Well, aside from the planning time and paying for everything, which didn’t seem to be a problem.

“Oh, we can do this,” Isabella assured me, smiling from ear to ear. “First things first, though. We need your dress. Everything else revolves around the dress. Nonna, I’ll take her out to get the perfect dress, then you and I can handle everything else. All Victoria has to do is give the final word on the choices we give her.”

“That would be best,” Nonna nodded.

“And I’ll have Maria cater,” Drusilla interjected. “It’s a short order, but if I bribe her, she will be able to push it through for us. And I’ll check in with our bakery to see if Max can make the cake. Oh, and Lillith, the photographer who did our wedding is a must,” Drusilla said, talking to Nonna and Isabella. I had no idea who these people were, so she couldn’t possibly have been talking to me. I just kind of nodded and tried to look involved as Isabella and Drucilla planned, and Nonna put in one or two remarks.

Both men stayed quiet, realizing that it really had nothing to do with them.

The women continued talking about plans and invitations and all the little things that I couldn’t believe they would try to get done in two weeks. I guess with enough money, anything could be done though, so maybe they could really make it happen that quickly. Maybe I should think about hiring them to do rushed weddings for my clients.

Were we really getting married that quickly? What was I getting myself into? I was tying myself to a family that ran the mob. They were criminals and murderers. They were what nightmares were made of and what people feared.

However, the women I was sitting across from were so nice and sweet, and, in spite of himself, Giovanni had just come to my rescue because I needed him… After all that, I had a hard time viewing them as monsters. I especially had a hard time seeing Gio as a monster, which was the most important part.

He was sweet and kind and strongly protective. He was generous and could even be really funny—which was something I doubted anyone but I could see. He could be hard, yes, but he wasn’t with me. Not as a whole anyway. He wasn’t used to having to answer to anyone but his family and himself, so he had to adjust to some things, but he was learning. He was trying.

So was I. I had the same problem, though I wasn’t used to everyone doing what I told them to do just because of my last name, so it was easier for me to adapt. Until then, I had only answered to myself. Now, I had to remember that he was a part of my life too, for better or for worse.

Gio leaned over and whispered in my ear, his lips so close that they brushed my skin when he spoke.

“Are you alright?” he asked. “You seemed to have spaced out.”

“Yes, I’m fine, just… all the wedding talk is a bit much,” I admitted. “I didn’t think we would be getting married so soon.”

“Is that a problem?” he pulled away to look me in the face, worry set in the wrinkle of his brow. “Because we can have them wait if you aren't ready, no matter what Nonna says. What matters is that you are comfortable with it.”

I looked to him and then over his shoulder at his grandmother. She was watching me with interest and maybe a little bit of a challenge. Like she was daring me to say “no,” to back out.

She didn’t believe I really wanted to marry Gio. She didn’t believe I was willing to try to make this work. She was playing relationship chicken with me.

“No, that’s fine,” I told him and gave him a bright, confident smile.

Before it was time to go, all of the women exchanged phone numbers. Isabella insisted on setting up our “girl’s day,” and I went along with it. I liked Isabella. She might have been someone I would have hung out with in high school. She was closer to my age than Gio, which I think made her easier to relate to. That and she had a sparkly happy personality that made it hard for me to dislike her.

She gave me a hug when Gio told them it was time to take me home, her small arms wrapping around me a lot stronger than I had expected. I hugged her back, probably not as hard as she had hugged me, but it was difficult with her vice grip around my shoulders.

Gio drove me home in silence. I was alright with that. I was quickly learning that the silence between us was mostly comfortable. We could think about things that were bothering us, but together, rather than suffering alone. If I had to guess, Gio was the kind of guy who didn’t even need to talk to get his point across, no matter what it was he was feeling. He would make his thoughts known when he wanted to, if he wanted to, and by any means necessary.

When he pulled into the garage, I hesitated before getting out of his car.

“Everything okay?” he asked and I looked at him.

“Yeah, just…” For some reason, I didn’t want to go upstairs alone. Maybe it was because we had been acting like a real couple all night, or maybe it was because of what had happened the other night when he came to help me. Maybe it was because of the way he kissed me or the chemistry we shared, but I suddenly wanted him to stay the night with me. “Would you like to come upstairs with me? For a nightcap?”

Butterflies went off in my stomach as a strange look crossed his eyes.

“I would like nothing more than to come up to your apartment, Victoria, but I have to make sure you are completely okay with that. Normally, I wouldn’t even think twice. I would take you upstairs, fuck your brains out on the kitchen table, then leave and never see you again. If you were any other woman. But it’s you… We are getting married in two weeks, and I don’t want to fuck this up. Darling, you are just too damn sexy to not want to fuck you, and if we go upstairs, I’m going to want to fuck you. And I will. I would like to pretend I’m a gentleman, but I’m not. So, if you aren't ready, then I think I better stay down here, against everything that is telling me to accept your invitation.”

He reached forward and brushed a stray lock of hair from my shoulder.

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