Total pages in book: 85
Estimated words: 84756 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 424(@200wpm)___ 339(@250wpm)___ 283(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 84756 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 424(@200wpm)___ 339(@250wpm)___ 283(@300wpm)
“I’m happy to hear about the engagement,” Aunt Aida says. “I wish you both a lifetime of love and happiness.”
“Thank you,” I murmur.
Damiano comes to press a kiss to his mother’s temple, then says, “Thank you, Mamma.”
She lets out a chuckle. “You won’t kick me out of the mansion now that you’re going to become Mrs. Falco?”
Caro Dio!
“No, never!” I exclaim, and grabbing her hand, I say, “Never think anything like that. This is your home.”
“She’s joking,” Damiano mutters, then he surprises the hell out of me by playfully chastising Aunt Aida, “Don’t give my fiancée a heart attack before we have an heir.”
Aunt Aida smiles at Damiano. “Oh? When can I expect my first grandchild?”
“Babies don’t fall out of thin air, Mamma,” Damiano says, the playfulness gone from his tone.
All the talk of babies has my cheeks growing warm, but thankfully, Mrs. Accardi comes rushing back into the room.
Martha also comes in, carrying a tray of glasses and a bottle of champagne.
When Carlo joins us, he grabs the bottle, and while he opens it, he says, “Congratulations on the engagement.”
“Thank you,” I murmur, still feeling overwhelmed.
The cork pops, and he pours the bubbly liquid into the glasses. When we each have one, Damiano moves to stand between Aunt Aida and me.
He holds up the flute, then mutters, “I hate giving toasts.”
“We know, but do it for me,” Aunt Aida says.
Glancing down at me, his eyes lock with mine. “Here’s to finding a woman who’s stubborn enough to make eye contact with me and brave enough to not back down.”
Not taking his eyes off me, he takes a sip of the champagne, and I do the same.
I’m not surprised when he places the glass back on the tray and says, “I have work to take care of.”
“No rest for the wicked,” Aunt Aida mutters playfully, but I notice the worry on her face.
After Damiano and Carlo leave the sitting room, Aunt Aida sits down again.
I don’t want to drink more so late at night, and I place the champagne on the tray.
Seeing as Aunt Aida and Mrs. Accardi are still enjoying their drinks, I take a seat, then ask, “Can you tell me how Damiano likes things?”
“What kind of things?” Aunt Aida asks.
“Ah … his coffee? Food? His routine when he’s home?”
“He drinks his coffee black and bitter. He’s never liked anything sweet,” she mentions, and I make a mental note of it.
“He eats anything, but his favorite is a home-cooked meal.”
“Okay,” I murmur to show I’m listening.
“He doesn’t have a routine. Being unpredictable is a safety precaution. Whenever we leave the mansion, we do the same. We never go out at a specific time and always switch things up.”
“Okay.”
“Damiano said we can go shopping,” she mentions much to my surprise.
“Yes, he told me to get warmer clothes.”
“I’ll arrange with the guards for an outing on Monday. When we go out, you do exactly as the guards say. Be cautious, and always be aware of your surroundings.”
“Okay,” I say, soaking the information up like a dry sponge.
“You’ll have to be my eyes when we’re out in public. Always be on high alert. If we’re attacked, don’t let go of me and stay with Gerardo. If we’re separated from the guards, we must find a safe place to hide.”
“Okay.”
Dio, it’s starting to sink in that I’ll have to take the same precautions as Damiano. I’ll be just as at risk as he is, if not more.
I’m a member of the Falco family now.
Chapter 19
Damiano
I managed to get another three hours sleep and feel a little more human. It’s early the morning when I walk toward Gabriella’s suite.
Knocking, I wait for her reply before I push her bedroom door open.
She’s sitting by her dressing table, and it’s the first time I see her without makeup.
“Oh,” she gasps, quickly climbing to her feet.
“We need to start with your training,” I say as I move closer to her, my eyes drinking in the sight of her natural beauty.
Makeup or no makeup, my fiancée is breathtaking.
“Training?” she asks.
My gaze sweeps over the pantsuit she’s wearing.
“Shooting lessons. Do you have casual clothes?”
She nods. “I have leggings.”
“Change into them.” When she remains standing, I add, “Now.”
“Oh … okay.” She hurries into the closet.
While I wait for her to change her clothes, I walk to the window and stare at the view of the lake.
It doesn’t take long before Gabriella comes back into the bedroom. When my eyes land on the tight-as-fuck leggings and her long-sleeve shirt that leaves nothing to the imagination, I grow hard in a split second.
Christ.
The sight of the gap between her thighs and her evident-as-fuck perky breasts almost has me throwing her on the bed.
“That’s definitely not going to fucking work,” I growl.
Her eyes fill with worry as she whispers, “It’s all I have.”