Chapter 35 Francesca
Francesca
“You’re married? For real?” I nod, snickering at Harper’s incredulous expression as she admires my ring. “Is that typical for Italian girls to marry so young?"
“Um… It is with some families. I’m half-Irish, actually,” I add, thinking of Ronan. I’ve not seen Maeve since our contentious meeting a couple of days ago, and I can’t help but worry what my brother’s up to.
“That explains your amazing hair, Red.”
“Thank you.” Carlo's dark eyes could melt the polar ice caps when he calls me that in bed. “What about you? You’re new to New York, you said.”
Harper shrugs, picking at her store-bought pasta salad Dinora would shake her head at it in disgust. “Yeah, I finished my time in the Navy and wanted to explore something totally different.”
I’d been surprised when she shared that she'd served. I overheard a couple of girls talking about Harper before class yesterday. They’d expressed some skepticism about how she came to be here with the school’s extremely competitive selection process.
They said her singing voice was alright but nothing special.
If we hadn’t already been off to a friendly start, hearing others bad-mouth Harper would have increased my desire to befriend her because I know what that’s like.
“I imagine you got to see a lot of the world,” I comment, hoping I don’t sound too jealous.
“Mostly Norfolk in Virginia. It had its moments. What’s your husband like? That’s a gorgeous rock, but how old is he if he can afford it? Did he rob the cradle or something?” she adds with a concerned look.
I can’t help snorting back laughter. “Carlo seems older in some ways…” Ways I won’t repeat to my new friend. “But he’s only twenty-four, like you. There are some families though who form betrothals early for the sake of…”
Harper looks entranced by my babbling, but I trail off when I spot Faro watching us intently.
There are things we don’t share with outsiders, things they’ll never understand.
I don’t want Harper to realize how weird we are about certain traditions.
And I won’t discuss the Trio at all, remembering Carlo’s skull tattoo – Silenzio.
I sip my juice and ask about her acting classes to change the subject.
***
“You’re guarded when you’re in school, right?” Gia asks me later over the phone.
“Yeah, but Faro stays out of the way. It’s still very strange. Not that I wasn’t guarded before. Just not so closely. I suppose after Sofia’s flight and my brother’s involvement, they’ll always keep a close eye on me.”
“You’re an important man’s wife now.”
“Yeah, not just the unwanted daughter of a rat.”
“Don’t say that, Frankie.”
I sigh, knowing Ronan wouldn’t want me feeling like I’m less because of who Da was either. “How is Armando? I feel terrible he was hurt because of me.”
“He’s completely healed, and he would tell you the same thing I’m about to say - Don’t feel terrible. He’s sorry he couldn’t protect you and Cat that day.”
“He was one against many. I’m just glad they didn’t do worse.”
“Me, too,” she whispers, sounding heartbroken at the thought.
“Does Ritchie have you guarded all the time?”
“Sure, but I’m finding ways to enjoy some freedom here and there.” Her tone has turned borderline devious.
"In what ways?" I ask.
She doesn't take the bait over the phone. “I’m looking forward to seeing you next week.”
Our delayed wedding reception is coming up soon.
I’ve pushed it out of my mind lately. While I’m excited to have family coming to town, I’m very anxious about being officially introduced to more of the New York Trio.
That gossipy reporter’s response to our surprise wedding was insulting enough even if she’s stopped saying anything negative about me at all.
“I can’t wait to see you, too,” I tell Gia. “Cat said Ritchie’s making you return to Chicago after my reception. I’m sorry.”
“Yes, we’ll see,” she replies, enigmatically. “Tell me more about life in New York.”
I rattle on for a bit, mentioning Aurora and eventually my newest friend, Harper. "She's really cool."
“I’m sure she’s great, Frankie, but remember you can't trust outsiders.”
I frown at Gia’s caution. “She’s just a girl in class with me.”
“Still, people will want to get close to you as Carlo’s wife. They’ll use you if they can.”
“You could say Aurora would have more to gain from being my friend, although she's not like that. But how could a girl like Harper use me? She's got more freedom than we ever will.”
“I don’t mean that girl. Just be careful, okay? Are you prepared for the reception with the bloody sheet nonsense?”
My nose crinkles up. “We’ll have been married for over a month.”
“True, but the Sicilians cling to their traditions. I wasn’t at Cat’s brother’s wedding, but I heard how the bride's family demanded to see the sheets the morning after Nico and Margareta married. Made a big spectacle of it before the Seconda Notte.”
Grimacing, I know I wouldn’t like that. I don’t like being reminded of the Seconda tradition either. Surely, Carlo will forgo that. It’s not like it’s going to be our ‘second night’ as husband and wife, and he’s promised to be faithful… if I can believe a word he says.
After hanging up, I go downstairs to find Dinora. “Your husband got home a few minutes ago,” she tells me, nodding in the direction of his office.
After she tells me what to do with the dish in the oven once the timer finishes, she leaves.
Once it beeps, I remove it to let it sit, wondering if I should go fetch him.
He probably didn’t hear the oven in there.
I’d like to eat dinner with him. I’ve missed him today.
When we first married, I never imagined I’d miss him.
“Sorry if I’m interrupting,” I say, stepping inside.
"You’re an interruption I enjoy.” Nevertheless, he keeps working, looking cold and remote in his dark business suit with a glass of liquor by his side.
The carpet muffles the sound of my bare feet until I'm standing behind him, my hands resting on his broad shoulders and arousal coiling through me.
"Anything interesting?" My eyes flit to the computer - more numbers and some names, nothing that makes sense to me – before he quickly closes it.
I want him to know I'm loyal, unlike my father, but I'm not sure I can claim that when I'm keeping secrets. "I didn't mean to be nosy."
Spinning in his chair, he picks up his drink, finishing it. "It's alright."
"Your dinner's ready." He starts to stand, but I place my hands on his chest, pushing him back into his seat.
One corner of his mouth tips up as I shimmy out of my panties, dropping them in his lap.
He's already getting hard as I take a seat on his desk.
"Though… I might suggest you have dessert first."
His devilish smirk lights me up inside. "My clever wife. You're absolutely right."
***
Wednesday – 2:00PM
Damrosch Park, Free concert
Lose your watchdog in the crowd. I’ll find you ~ R
I stare at the slip of paper Maeve shoved into my hand in the hallway like it’s a contagion before quickly tossing it out the window of Faro’s Mercedes. His head swivels around from my sudden movement but, thankfully, Aurora needed another ride today, so he’s been distracted by his wife.
“Looking forward to the reception, Frankie?” Aurora asks, brightly.
“Uh… sure.” Her eyes flash up to meet mine in the rearview, full of concern.
“I hear there’s a concert planned later,” Faro says.
I nearly swallow my tongue at the mention of a concert.
Did he see the slip of paper after all? Then I realize what he means.
“I’m not sure you can call it that, but the girls have been asking.
” Carlo’s sisters are coming over this afternoon to hear me play the piano and sing some of the songs I’ve been working on.
Giulia will be listening in her own way.
I hope she enjoys it. “Can you come play, too, Aurora, or are you still grounded?” I ask to wheedle my bodyguard a bit.
“Oh, I think I managed to make amends for my latest mischief at last.”
Faro scowls at us both before he reaches for his wife’s hand to kiss.
She murmurs something to him I don’t catch because guilt and worry are busy hollowing out my stomach, thinking of the beautiful butterflies that always come to life whenever Carlo kisses my hand.
He may never kiss my hand so tenderly again if he finds out, but if I don’t go, Ronan might grow even bolder.
He might do something really stupid or suicidal to see me. I have to try.