29. Luciano
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
LUCIANO
I stared at my good friend, disbelief etched on his face, while the same thought kept repeating itself in my mind. This isn’t going as smoothly as I’d hoped.
“Luciano, you got this all wrong,” Nico protested, the two of us in his home office in Baltimore while our wives did their thing—whatever that was today. Probably baking if Bianca had any say in the matter. “Matteo and Arianna… No, it’s impossible. Your son is sensible enough to know that. He must want Hannah.”
“Did I say Arianna?” Fuck if I know anymore. I was a mobster, not a matchmaker. To be frank, I couldn’t even remember Matteo saying a single word about Arianna. “I meant Hannah. After all, she declared she’d marry him the moment they met.”
“Yes, this wasn’t a surprise.” He released a grumble. “Why is he asking to marry her already? It’s kind of soon. No?”
I shrugged. “Nico, they’ve known each other for what… two decades at least? They are not kids anymore.”
“This is depressing,” he muttered.
“Why?”
“Because she’ll live with you. Which probably means her sisters will spend a lot of time at your house too.”
“Well, the house is plenty big.” The moment I saw my friend’s expression, I realized it was the wrong thing to say. Too fucking late.
“Maybe I can convince one of the boys to start courting Francesca.”
I winced. “You wouldn’t.”
“Oh, I fucking would.” It was my fucking turn to release a grumble, but I wasn’t overly worried. Francesca thought of Dominico and Cassius as her own brothers. “When my boys set their mind on something, there’s nothing that can stop them.”
I snickered. “I hate to tell you, but I don’t think either of their minds is set on Francesca.”
He pinched the bridge of his nose. “There’s still hope.”
“You know these children will do whatever’s necessary to be with the ones they love. Even if the whole world is against them. Just like we did.”
“I’m afraid you’re right.”
“So let’s be happy for them,” I said matter-of-factly. Fuck, I was doing pretty good with this matchmaking now. “Can I tell Matteo the marriage is arranged? We can announce it at the Vitale party coming up.”
My friend took an inhale of his cigar, his expression pensive. “I’ll ask Hannah if she agrees. I suspect she’ll say yes.”
“You still don’t look happy…” I grumbled.
“Honestly, I’m sick to my stomach to see the girls married off.” I glared at him, but he quickly continued, “Nothing against Matteo. It’s the thought of our children leaving the nest. And I fear this engagement will just be the beginning, and soon, they’ll all leave us.”
“They’ve literally been at D’Arc for a few years now. You should be used to this feeling.”
“Are you?” he scoffed, then reached forward to refill his glass and mine.
“Francesca is still way too young,” I muttered, grabbing the glass and letting the bitter liquid chase away the anxiety his words stirred.
“I’m sure she’ll text… Maybe.” Nico’s words definitely weren’t helping. “Are you sure Matteo isn’t too young to get married?”
Fucking hell.
I thought all these kids should wait until they were forty to get married, but if I said that, Nico might backpedal on this agreement. There was one thing I promised myself when I got my second chance with my wife. I’d always stand by her and my children.
“He’s ready,” I stated with too much confidence and then added a little white lie. “And from what I understand, so is Hannah.”
His sigh was deep and defeated, much like I felt.
“You think those two love each other?” I released a begrudged affirmative noise. Nico nodded and took a drink of his bourbon before adding, “But if Matteo makes her cry, friend or no, I’m going to?—”
“Don’t even think about being a dick,” I cut him off. “And stop being a papa bear.”
Nico shot me a glare. “I’ll fucking remind you of those words when Francesca shows up at your house with a boyfriend.”
He laughed. I tried to join in but couldn’t.
Because the thought of my baby girl having a boyfriend made me literally sick to my fucking stomach.
God, don’t you dare let any fucking boy take my girl.