Chapter 51
Dominic
Two weeks later …
I’m standing in the main room at the Mancini residence. Today is Matteo’s Christening, and Romeo insisted we all gather before church.
The women are currently in the nursery, dressing the baby before we leave. I can tell by the way Romeo keeps rocking back on his feet and smirking that he’s up to something.
“What the fuck has gotten into you this morning?” Dante asks, frowning at him, before his eyes skim to me. “And why the fuck are you two even here?”
“Arabella wanted the girls to help her dress …”
Romeo’s words die off when Dante suddenly leaps to his feet. “The dress! Hell, fucking no,” he bellows as he storms from the room.
“Am I missing something?” I ask.
“Come, you don’t want to miss this,” Romeo replies, crooking his finger for me to follow.
By the time we reach the hallway, Dante is already taking the stairs two at a time, like a man on a mission. Romeo chuckles to himself as he breaks into a jog.
“What the fuck is going on?” I ask, falling into step beside him.
“Do you remember that hideous, haunted dress poor Gabe was forced to wear at his Christening?”
I grimace. “The one with the lace and pearl buttons?”
“The very one,” he replies with a shudder.
“Didn’t your grandma make it?”
“My great-grandmother.”
Dante’s sudden departure now makes sense. “Matteo’s wearing it?”
“If my wife has a say in it, he is.”
“Brutal,” I mumble as a grin curves my lips.
We reach the nursery just in time to see Dante pause in the doorway. There’s a beat of eerie silence, then his face drops.
“Absolutely not,” he growls, pointing toward his son. “That thing has claimed enough victims.”
“Stop it,” Arabella says. “He looks adorable.”
“He … he looks like—” Dante pauses, staring at his son while trying to find the right words without starting a war, “—like a very expensive antique lampshade. Not the future Don of the Mancini Cosa Nostra.”
Romeo and I crack up at his ridiculous analogy, as Lucia chimes in, “It’s family tradition.”
“It’s your husband’s family tradition, not mine.”
Lucia’s eyes narrow. “My husband is part of your Famiglia, is he not?”
She has a point; he can’t really argue that.
“Remove it now!” Dante grumbles.
“No!” Arabella and Lucia say in unison.
“My son is not leaving this house in a fu … fudging dress.”
“He’s my son too,” Arabella counters as her hands move to her hips.
“Bellezza, (Beauty),” he pleads, and the tone of his voice almost has me feeling sorry for the poor bastard. This is the side of the Don his men never get to see.
“You might as well quit while you’re ahead,” Romeo says with a smirk. “Believe me, you don’t stand a chance. In case you forgot, I’m married to the other Rossi sister.”
Dante twists his body in our direction as his narrowed gaze lands on Romeo before flickering to me.
Man, he’s pissed.
“I wouldn’t be laughing if I were you,” he growls, stabbing his finger towards me. “Isn’t your wife pregnant? Doesn’t that make your kid next in line?”
My eyes dart to Emily as her hand skims over her small baby bump, and my face drops. I’m suddenly not finding this so funny anymore.