14. Dario
DARIO
I can’t help being confused by Liana’s behavior. She acts like she hates me, but in bed, it’s like all she wants is my hands all over her.
But then again, she’s been avoiding me ever since we hooked up. Ever since she tried to kill me with a pocketknife.
I know she hates me, but does she really want me dead?
I knock softly on her bedroom door and she barks for me to come in.
She’s sitting on the edge of the bed, shaking out her dark curls, wearing nothing more than a little lace nightie. I draw in a sharp breath, trying not to let my eyes wander.
“What do you want?”
“Good morning to you, too, belissima,” I drawl, and she huffs and rolls her eyes.
“You don’t normally come in here to tell me good morning, so you want something.”
“Need is a better word, Li. You’re my wife now, and part of that benefit is that you come with me to events.”
She scoffs. “You could find any woman to do that.”
“Not any woman who would fight of all my aunts begging me to settle down. They’ll think it’s finally happened, ask you about us having babies. You’re to say we’re trying.”
“You want me to lie to your family?”
“Yes. Is that a problem?”
She stares at me, mouth agape for a moment before shaking her head. “Alright. I guess it’s part of the gig.”
“I’m so glad you agree. I’ll have a seamstress come for your measurements.”
“My measurements? I have evening gowns.”
“Not one splendid enough. I want to show you off.”
“You’re saying what? I’m... arm candy?”
Oh. This is making her angry. I can’t help the grin that spreads across my face.
“Isn’t that exactly what you are?”
“You...” she trails off, glaring at me, and I chuckle and close the door just as she throws a pillow at me.
It thuds uselessly against the closed door, and I chuckle.
I spend the morning in my office, answering calls and emails.
By the time I come up for air, it’s lunch and my stomach is growling.
I walk down to the kitchen where Sofia has prepared grilled cheese and tomato basil soup. Sonny is eating heartily, and Liana....
Well, Liana is steaming with her hair up in rollers.
She looks at me and I can’t stop the snort that comes out of me.
“You didn’t tell me there was a hair and makeup stylist coming too!”
“It’s a big event. Vincenzo Gallo’s sixtieth birthday party.”
“Uncle Vincenzo’s birthday is today?”
I blink. “You know him?”
“Of course I know him. He and my father were best friends, even though Papa is a few years younger.”
“Good, then they’ll be all the more impressed with you.”
“Should have told me it was his party, I would have actually looked forward to going,” she mutters.
I sit down next to Sonny and she glares at me again, but I just grab a sandwich, dipping it in my soup.
Sonny looks at me with wide, awestruck eyes. “You can dip it?”
I chuckle. “Of course you can. It’s the best, try it.”
As I urge him, he dips half his sandwich in the soup and takes a bite, groaning.
“Told you it was good.”
Liana glares at me again but doesn’t protest out loud.
I go back up to my office to finish out the work day—I have loose ends to tie up—and she and Sonny head to the garden.
There’s a knock at my office door around six in the evening and I look up from my phone with a start. I hadn’t realized it’d gotten so late.
I open the door and Liana stands there, in a gorgeous blue evening gown that shows off the gray of her eyes.
The neckline dips down low between her breasts, cleavage spilling out.
“All eyes are going to be on you tonight,” I murmur, and she huffs out a breath.
“Not if I can’t get the damn thing zipped.” She pouts and turns around, showing me that it’s only half-zipped.
“It’s tailored, it’s going to be a snug fit.” I trail a hand down her spine and she shivers.
“Don’t.”
“Don’t what? I’m just helping.” I trail down to the zipper, fingertips brushing her bare skin as I slowly pull it up.
I want to drop a kiss on her bare shoulder but I don’t think she’ll appreciate it. Not in the mood she’s in.
“Are you ready?”
I nod and she leaves the room, heading down the stairs in her heels.
My eyes follow the curve of her ass in her tight dress and I curse inwardly.
Maybe this wasn’t the world’s best idea. After all, that dress isn’t only for my eyes.
I grit my teeth, thinking of the other mobsters looking at her. I’ll just have to stay vigilant. One drink only.
“Cheer up,” I tell her. “You at least get a night off.”
She rolls her shoulders. “I guess you’re right. And they always have champagne at these things. I love champagne.”
I chuckle and open the passenger side door of my car for her. She slides inside.
She doesn’t speak much on the way to Vincenzo’s mansion, just looking out the window, but I can tell her mood is lifted by the set of her shoulders, how she hums along with the radio.
“Are the Contes usually invited to Vincenzo’s parties?” she asks incredulously. “Because last year...”
“It’s new. My parents died two years ago, and now that I’ve taken over, Vincenzo and I have a truce.”
She whips around to look at me, her gray eyes wide.
“Your parents died? Oh, God, Dario, what happened?”
I thin my lips in a hard line, not wanting to talk about it, but knowing she won’t drop it.
“Car accident. It was raining. Some guy ran a red light.”
She swallows visibly. “Was he prosecuted?”
I shake my head, smiling humorlessly. “In a way of speaking, I guess. He died on impact.”
While my mother suffered for three days in the hospital.
“I’m sorry,” she whispers.
“It’s alright.” My words are clipped and I know it, but I can’t seem to help it.
“Sore subject?”
“You ever met anyone with dead parents and it wasn’t a sore subject?” I snap, and she looks away, dropping it.
I sigh and reach over to touch her knee. She flinches away but she’s looking at me.
“I’m sorry. It is a sore subject. And I miss them.”
“Of course you do. I’m sorry I brought it up.”
I let out a long breath, feeling almost better now that it’s out there. Maybe Giovanni is right and it’s good to talk things out sometimes.
I usually thrive at these soirees, but I also usually bring someone temporary.
Aunt Liza will be so surprised.
I take her hand as she steps out of the car and surprisingly, she doesn’t pull away.
Aunt Liza is the first to come up with me, two glasses of champagne in her hand.
She hands one to Liana.
“Liana Rossi, you’re a sight for sore eyes!”
I inwardly groan. I suddenly remember getting drunk at one of these parties and telling Aunt Liza all about Liana. I should have never have brought her here.
Liana smiles. “I haven’t seen you since Uncle Vincenzo’s last party.”
She chuckles. “Oh honey, when champagne is involved, I barely remember. How have you been? And what are you doing with this tall drink of water?”
“We’re married,” I blurt out. Liana glares at me for only a split second before her face breaks out in a smile.
“Surprise!” she titters, and Aunt Liza blinks her faded brown eyes up at her.
“Married? How did I miss that?”
“It was a private affair,” Liana tries to explain.
“Just close friends and family,” I back her up.
“An elopement of sorts. Juicy.” Liza takes hold of Liana’s elbow. “Let’s get you some more champagne.”
Liana dutifully drinks the rest of the flute and smiles, letting Liza drag her away.
I watch them go, and it’s only a moment before Rocco walks up to me, offering me a scotch on the rocks.
I take it, sipping it slowly.
“So you’re definitely doing this, then?” Rocco asks, sounding slightly exasperated.
“Doing what?”
“Falling back in love with Liana Rossi.”
I scoff. “I’m not. This is just to keep Aunt Liza off my back about settling down.”
“You don’t even normally go to the Gallo parties. Technically, we’re enemies.”
I shrug. “That’s an old grudge my father had. Not me.”
Rocco nods. “I still don’t think this is a great idea. If it all goes south, you know who to find to drown your sorrows.”
“It’s not going to go south.”
He shrugs and walks away and I stare after him, frowning.
I’m not falling in love with Liana again. That’s not what this is. This is me using the benefits of being married. Tit for tat, and all that.
That’s it. Right?
I stick to one drink while Liana makes the rounds. She’s drinking scotch with my uncles an hour after Liza drags her away, and she’s making them all laugh. I can’t help but smile as I watch her. I want to catch her alone, out on the balcony, but she’s busy all night.
Soon enough, she’s taken over to the kid’s table and the next thing I know, I look up and she’s holding a newborn, nuzzling against his neck.
My heart clenches in my chest.
No.
Rocco isn’t right. I’m not in love. But it does do something to me to see her with that baby, bouncing him in her arms and cooing down at him.
I roll my neck around on my shoulders, feeling suddenly tense, and I break my own rules and grab another scotch.
Liana hands back the newborn and takes another child, maybe a two-year-old, and when the toddler babbles at her, she talks right back.
I’d thought one day, I’d get to see that sight for myself. That it’d be my baby looking up at her, not someone else’s.
I grit my teeth. She’s already had this experience, with Sonny. Without me.
I gulp down too much of my scotch and sit the glass down on the table. I have to be careful. With the party. With the booze.
With Liana.