Chapter 12 #3
Thoughts of my hand sliding past the flowy pink fabric of the dress, skirting up her thigh, brushing over her panties, inching inside them to discover everything she likes…
they make my damn cock stiffen. Her breasts look even bigger, held hostage in the confines of that tight little thing, begging for my hands to shred it to pieces.
“Thank you for cooking,” I tell her.
“I helped.” Sophia rolls her eyes as I peer at her.
“The thank-you was to both of you.” I scoop her up in my arms as she giggles, throwing her over my shoulder. “What did I tell you about rolling those eyes, young lady? Hmm?”
I tickle her, and she laughs faster.
Elsie watches us with a smile. “We made Tuscan chicken. Sophia was a huge help.”
“See, Daddy?” she laughs. “I was a huuuge help.”
“Uh-huh.” I tickle her some more, and her laughter is the only thing that keeps me alive.
“We may have to cook together one day soon,” I tell Elsie. “You know, to see who’s better?” My lips tilt up.
She scoffs as a single brow lifts up. “Oh, Michael, I’ll smoke you.”
I chuckle freely, like the entire world isn’t on my shoulders, like this life with this woman is real.
With a deep sigh, I drop Sophia on her feet. “Okay, princess, make Daddy pretty.”
She inspects my face, taking her job seriously. “Have a seat, sir. I’ll be right with you.”
Elsie laughs, standing off to the side as I settle on the chair she had been in.
“So, Daddy? What color should we put on your eyes?”
“Black.”
She shakes her head, her nose scrunching. “I think pink is more your color.”
“Of course it is.” I shake my head, my mouth quirking up.
Then she gets to work.
And the whole entire time, my eyes are on Elsie, and her eyes…they drown in mine.
“This is really good,” I tell Elsie.
Her mouth tightens as she peers into her plate.
“Where did you learn how to cook?”
“My grandma.” She gives me a quick glance, then returns to staring down. “She was the best cook. My parents were often too busy, so she and I would cook and bake together.” She smiles fondly, absently staring at her food.
“Do you still cook together? Like Daddy and me?” Elsie looks up at Sophia then, and in that moment, her eyes dim with darkness.
“Not anymore.” She shakes her head, her features laced with grief. “Maybe one day we can again.”
That’s when she looks at me for long, excruciating seconds.
I get it. I’m the bad guy in her story, and she’s not wrong.
“I have a little surprise for you,” I say, hoping to change the subject.
Not that this one will make her any happier.
“Oh, yeah? And what could that be?”
Sophia giggles next to me because she already knows, and she couldn’t be more excited. It’s obvious how much she adores Elsie already. It makes me the biggest piece of shit on the planet for lying to her the way I am. But it’s to save her uncle. And with time, she’ll get over the loss of Elsie.
Maybe they can keep in touch. Elsie doesn’t have to be my wife for them to still talk. I don’t have to fit into the equation.
And fuck, that idea stabs me right in the heart.
I reach into my pocket, retrieving a box with a ring inside it. If I am to have her sign the papers later tonight, a ring is a necessity, especially with my parents coming over tomorrow to meet her. They have to know it’s real.
I place the box on the table, and Elsie’s eyes widen.
“Is that…”
“It’s a ring,” Sophia whispers, peeking at her.
“I—I can see that.” Her eyes enlarge.
She doesn’t want this, and seeing the box, knowing what’s inside…it must make it real to her. She’ll have to get used to it. Everyone in our circle will know soon enough. Every influential person will be invited to our wedding.
Once that happens, even the Bianchis will be aware of who she is now.
Mine.
Once she has my last name, they can’t touch her, according to the rules set forth by the Azienda. Wives and kids are off-limits, unless an established treaty is broken. And I’ll kill them if they dare to take her from me. If they want a war, they will have it.
“Daddy…” Sophia urges, squinting at me with an expression that says, what are you waiting for?
I know what she wants me to do, but the woman before me? She’s not going to care if I do it or not.
But it means something to my daughter, so I pick up the box and come to stand before Elsie. And in one smooth motion, I drag her chair out to the side and bend on one knee.
Staring right into her bewildered eyes, I reveal the sparkling eight-carat solitary diamond, and with my free hand, I take her left one in mine.
“It may not be what you wanted,” I tell her. “But it’s where we are. Will you marry me, little dove? Will you be my wife?”
Her lips part, breaths escaping, her gaze jumping from me, then to the ring. She stares at it like it’s a collar meant to shackle her, and I guess in a way it is.
Seconds trickle by, and I wait for her to give me the only answer she’s allowed to give. And finally, she does.
“Yes, Michael. I will marry you. Unfortunately.” She whispers that last part.
I hide the chuckle rumbling deep in my chest. It’s unfortunate for the both of us.
“Yay!” Sophia yelps, clapping.
I drop Elsie’s hand and take out the ring, gradually slipping it onto her finger while she stares down at her newly decorated hand, wishing she could be far away from me.
I wish she could too.