36. Nikola
NIKOLA
I t was obvious it killed him to say those words.
I never hesitated taunting people or taking what I wanted, but I knew how much Skye loved her papa, so I decided to give the man a break.
After all, it was important to get along with the man who—whether he liked it or not—would become part of my family. More than he already was.
“I’d like to marry Skye as soon as possible,” I announced.
His dark gaze met mine. “I didn’t say I agreed with it.”
“Yet,” I corrected him, watching the pulse in his jaw throb. “But be honest. You love your daughter, and she loves me. Do you really think you have a choice?”
“You’re awfully confident,” he remarked wryly, knowing I was right. I love being right. Still, I’d hear him out.
When I remained silent, he continued. “There are a few things I want to make clear.”
I nodded. “I’m listening.”
He eyed me suspiciously, almost as if he thought I was mocking him. I wasn’t, because making Skye my wife was the most important thing I would ever do, and I intended to do it right. But even more importantly, I wanted to make her happy.
“You cheat on her, I’ll cut your balls off. You disrespect her, I’ll cut your balls off. You make her cry, I’ll?—”
“Let me guess, cut my balls off?” I finished for him.
There was no danger of me doing any of those things because Skye was the only one for me.
I saw us growing a family together, growing old together.
I respected her intelligence and knew she would be an asset to me and my business dealings, simply by being her . I would never jeopardize that.
He flashed me a dark grin. “No, I’ll claw your eyeballs out and cut your balls off before I feed you to the sharks.”
Not the fucking sharks again , I thought. “Fair enough,” I said.
He nodded, satisfied that I didn’t flinch. “Now, about visitations…”
My brows furrowed. “Huh?”
He rolled his eyes. “Vi-si-ta-tions,” he said slowly, like he was talking to an idiot.
“I know what visitations are. I hate to disappoint you, but Skye will be living with me. There’ll be no visitation schedule between me and my wife.”
Dante let out a huff. “I meant you two visiting us in Trieste.”
“Ahhh.”
“Skye and her mom are close. Nix has to see her often.” I bit the inside of my cheek to keep a straight face. Dante, for all his crazy ways, was such a softy for his daughter. This had nothing to do with his wife and everything to do with him. “She’s all we have.”
The tension in his shoulders and the lines on his face were unmistakable.
“How about we come to visit you in Italy once a month? Or you can come visit us?” I suggested.
“My thesis is completed and my father wants me to take over the business. He’s been waiting a long time, and I owe him that much so he can enjoy his retirement.
And if Skye is open to finishing her classes remotely, it’ll allow us longer weekends in Trieste. ”
“Sì… sì,” he agreed, nodding profusely. “That will be good. Nix’ll be happy with that arrangement.”
“Good, I suspect so will Skye,” I murmured. “Now, let’s set that wedding date. I don’t want to risk anything getting in the way.”
Dante studied me like a hawk homing in on its prey.
“You love her, don’t you?” he finally said around a sigh.
“You certainly went to great lengths to get me to agree, Nikola. Though your methods are less than admirable, I see you’re willing to do whatever it takes to make Skye happy.
And God help me, marrying you seems like it’s going to make her happy. ”
“Yes, sir. I am.”
He nodded approvingly, whether in response to my use of “sir” rather than “Papa Dante,” or to my commitment to making Skye happy.
“Good. So let’s not rush the wedding and do it the right way.”
I let out a grumble. “With all due respect, we can rush the wedding and do it the right way.”
I didn’t want to prolong this shit.
“Skye will have a proper Italian wedding.”
“It can be Italian, Chinese, French, or all three combined for all I care, as long as it happens soon.”
His gaze narrowed. “What’s the rush?”
“Do you really want me to spell it out for you, P—” Papa Dante was on my tongue, but I stopped myself and said instead, “Sir?”
“Spring wedding.”
“No, December wedding.”
He huffed a breath of hot air. “It’s the end of fucking November.”
I grinned. “Oh, is it? How convenient.”
“Spring.” He dug in stubbornly. “And the wedding will be at our castello. One day, it’ll go to your children, and I’d like to think they’ll keep the tradition going.”
Our children . Just the thought made me all mellow and mushy inside, something I wasn’t familiar with. And to prevent him from noticing, I would agree to anything.