The Proposal

32. Dante

Chapter 32

Dante

“ I like what you’ve done in here,” Alexander says as he runs his hand over Papa’s record player. “And I’m glad you kept this.”

“Yeah, I kept his chair too.”

“I noticed.”

“I gave Arabella free rein to redecorate the entire house, but there were a few things I wasn’t prepared to let go of.”

His eyes move around the room. “She did a good job. It looks?—”

“Not so ethnic-y?”

“I was going to say over-the-top … maybe gaudy is a better word, but ethnic-y also suits.”

I chuckle. “Papa definitely had a unique taste.”

“He did,” my brother says with a quiet nod, but I don’t miss the brief flicker of pain that crosses his face.

The air suddenly feels thicker. Our father’s absence seems to hit in the most unexpected moments, and right now, the loss of him is weighing heavily on us both.

I climb the first few rungs of the stepladder and reach up to unhook one corner of the Baby Mancini sign hanging on the wall before moving over to do the same on the other side. The women really outdid themselves with the decorations. I wasn’t expecting anything this sophisticated.

I know the planning took weeks, with Lucia, Chloe, and Lina constantly messaging back and forth as they made plans.

I handed Lucia my credit card and told her to spare no expense. Everything had been preordered, so as soon as I got Arabella out of the house this morning, they swooped in and took over.

Arabella was so disappointed when Chloe’s baby shower had to be cancelled at the last minute, so I wanted to make today special for her.

I pass the sign down to my brother and watch as he carefully folds it. “Can I ask you something?” I say.

“Depends on what it is. It doesn’t involve sex or my balls, does it?”

I roll my lips. “No. What did the doctor say about Chloe going into premature labour? Is it something that happens often? Should I be concerned about Arabella? Or would it be wiser if I Google it?”

When his eyes narrow, I grin. “Not everything you read on Google is correct.”

“Well, the two of you have something in common then.” When he growls, my smile grows.

“He said it was just one of those unfortunate things.” He follows with a shrug. “Chloe’s already talking about having another one. I’m not sure if I can go through that again. It freaked me the fuck out.”

“I know, I was there, remember? You were so panicked, I thought you were going to pass out.”

“I wasn’t even close to passing out,” he grumbles. “I can guarantee if it was your wife and child’s life on the line, you’d be freaking out too.”

“On the inside, maybe, but I’m confident I’d still be able to keep it together for them.” Honestly, I’m not sure if I would, but I’d never admit that out loud. “I bet you’re glad I was there with my level head so I could save the day. You’re welcome, by the way.”

“Your head is the furthest thing from level. If it weren’t for Arabella, I’d be seriously concerned about the child you’re about to have.”

“Whatever,” I snap, seeing the smirk tugging at his lips. He definitely said that to get under my skin. “Maybe Luca was just making an escape.”

“An escape from what? His mother’s womb? That is an absurd assumption.”

“No, not from Chloe, from you.”

“Me?”

“You know that Leo the Lion roar of yours. You probably scared the crap out of the poor little guy.”

“You’re a dick.”

“You’re just jealous.”

“Of what? Your immaturity? Hardly.”

“No, of my dick. You know, since God was a little stingy when he was handing out yours, so when he gave me mine, I also got your leftovers to compensate.”

When my brother throws his arms in the air and storms out of the room, I bark out a laugh. Antagonising him will never get old.

“Are you okay, Bellezza ?” I ask, dragging her body closer to mine and placing a soft kiss on her bare shoulder.

She’s been quiet. Last night, she went to bed before all of us, claiming to be tired, but my gut told me it was more than that, especially when I offered to go with her and got an abrupt “No!” in response.

Is she still upset about the furniture shopping? I thought all would be forgiven once she realised why I did it .

I hear her exhale sharply before she responds. “If we ever get divorced, will you take our baby away from me?”

Her words hit me like a slap, and I recoil in shock. What the hell kind of question is that?

I shift, propping myself up on my elbow and turning Arabella onto her back so I can meet her gaze. “One, we’re never getting divorced, and two, I’d never take a child away from its mother.”

“Yet you took Giovanni away from his.”

“Is that what this is about?”

“I only found out Giovanni wasn’t Chloe’s biological son last night. She said you convinced his mother to sign over her parental rights.”

“Sophia is a vile human being. She never truly loved that little boy. She just used him as a pawn in her game to extort money from my brother.”

“Oh.”

“Yes, oh. Giovanni isn’t Alexander’s biological child, either. Did Chloe tell you that part?”

“No, she didn’t.”

“Sophia tricked my brother into marrying her. She told him she was pregnant with his child, but she knew from the very beginning it wasn’t his. After Giovanni was born, Alexander had a paternity test done. He was devastated when he found out the truth, but he loved that little boy. Despite my father insisting he cut ties with both of them, my brother chose to keep his relationship with his son.”

“That’s very admirable of him.”

“He’s a good guy, Arabella. A better man than I’ll ever be. For years, he had to bow to Sophia’s every whim just for a day here and there with his kid. He funded their entire lifestyle.”

“That’s dreadful.”

“When we were in the middle of a war with the Mortellis, Alexander took Giovanni and Chloe to a safe house for protection. He had to pay that bitch two hundred and fifty grand to get her to agree.”

“Wow.”

“Giovanni’s safety was never her first priority. Money was. She took an all-expenses paid trip to Italy, and they didn’t hear anything from her for months. Even when the danger was no longer there, she didn’t return to collect him.”

Arabella gasps. “That’s awful.”

“It’s only the half of it. When we flew to Italy for Alexander and Chloe’s wedding, my brother reached out to Sophia and had to practically beg her to see her son. He did it for Giovanni’s sake, no other reason. You know what she did in return?”

“What?” she asks.

“Her and that barely legal motherfucker she hooked up with while over there, said they were taking Giovanni to lunch, but instead, they did a runner … they never brought him back.”

“Oh, my goodness. Why would she do that?”

“One guess … money. When I found them, Sophia’s toy boy asked for a million dollars in exchange for the kid.”

Arabella audibly gasps. “Did you give it to him?”

“No, I beat the fuck out of him instead. I lived with Alexander and Chloe for months while I was recovering from the shooting and saw how happy and adjusted that kid was under his father’s care. I was sick of her games. That’s why I made her sign over her rights. She didn’t deserve that little boy. Your father was the one who helped me get him back.”

“He did?”

“Yes.”

“I can’t believe Papa helped you. That’s so unlike him. What did he get out of it? I’m sure he didn’t do it out of the goodness of his heart.”

“He got a son-in-law.”

“What? ”

“I agreed to marry you in exchange for his help.”

“You gave up your freedom to save your nephew?”

“Yes. There’s nothing I wouldn’t do for my family.”

“But you just admitted he’s not even a blood relative.”

“My brother claims him as his, and that’s good enough for me. Nobody in my Famiglia is a blood relative, but that doesn’t mean I wouldn’t lay down my life for them. Lucia and I don’t share the same DNA, but that doesn’t mean I wouldn’t risk everything for her, either.”

“You would risk it all for my sister?”

“Yes, because she means everything to you, Bellezza .”

“Oh, Dante,” she whispers as her eyes well with tears.

I gently swipe the pad of my thumb across her cheek when one escapes. For some reason, her tears wreck me. I hate seeing her upset. “I’ll always protect the ones I love. That includes you, Arabella. You and our child are at the very top of my list.”

She shakes her head as more tears gather in her eyes. “I know you didn’t want to marry me in the beginning, and I hate that even more now that I know why you did it.”

“To be fair, you didn’t want to marry me either,” I reply, my voice low but firm. “What I did was not a sacrifice. It was a choice. A choice I made, and one I’d make again, a thousand times over. You are the best thing that has ever happened to me, amore mio, don’t ever forget that.”

She slides her arms around my neck, tugging my lips down to hers. I can taste the saltiness of her tears as I deepen the kiss and groan into her mouth.

We are both panting by the time I draw back. “I have one more thing to say,” I growl.

“And that is?”

“If you ever mention a divorce again, we’re going to have a problem. I married you for life, Angelo . In sickness and health, for better or for worse, capire (Understand).”

“ Capisco (I understand). ”

“Good, now that we’ve got that settled,” I say as I reach behind me to grab a pillow, “it’s time for makeup sex.”

“I wouldn’t consider our discussion a fight.”

“We’re having makeup sex, Arabella,” I grumble.

A smile curves her lips as she raises her head off the pillow to peck my lips.

I throw back the covers and push up onto my knees. I offer her my hand and pull her up into a sitting position.

“Lift up,” I command as I reach for the hem of her nightgown.

Once I’ve tugged it over her head, she rolls onto her side and manoeuvres onto all fours. I recently banned her from wearing underwear to bed.

After carefully placing the pillow underneath her stomach for support, I move into position.

Her stomach has now become too big for me to be on top, and I worry that I’m too deep if it’s the other way around.

I hate that I’m not able to gaze into her pretty emerald eyes as I fuck her, but if this is the only way I can have my wife until our child is born, then I’m taking it. This position also means I can remain in control.

Arabella’s libido has been through the roof during her pregnancy. She’s always begging me to take her deeper, fuck her harder, but Chloe’s premature labour has remained forefront in my mind. As much as I want to give my wife everything she asks for, her and the baby’s safety will always be paramount.

I slip my hand between her legs as I lean forward to rest my torso against her back. I place a chaste kiss on her tattoo as my fingers glide through her slick heat.

Arabella kisses my tattoo—the one that bears her name—every single day. I know hers is a memorial to her mother, but I love it simply because it’s a carbon copy of mine.

We both lost our mothers at the hands of psychopaths, and the trauma that knowledge brings has only strengthened our bond. We are simply two broken people trying to heal each other with love.

When she’s ready for me, I grasp hold of my dick, stroking it a few times as I line myself up with her opening. We both moan in unison as soon as I slide the crown of my cock into her tight heat.

I rest my forehead between her shoulder blades as I sink in the rest of the way. I’m forced to grasp her hips when her greedy pussy pushes back, trying to take me deeper.

Does she not realise how hard this is for me? My need to pound into that luscious body of hers is overwhelming, but I have to remain strong and keep my composure. I’m doing this for her … for them.

I fist a chunk of her long hair in my hand, tugging her head back slightly. “Behave,” I whisper into her ear before biting down on her earlobe.

Rest assured, the minute this baby is born, I’m going to fuck her so hard she won’t be able to walk for a week.

“Hey,” I say to Romeo when I answer the front door. “You’re here early. Did you wet the bed?”

“No,” he grumbles, which is very unlike him. He’s usually a nauseating bundle of sunshine. He’s been a bit off lately, and it makes me wonder if it has anything to do with Lucia and her cartoon-heart eyes that seem to follow him everywhere he goes. She can be a little intense at times.

“Do you want to talk about it?” I ask, placing my hand on his shoulder.

“Talk about what?”

“Whatever has climbed up your arse and turned you into a snarky little bitch.”

“I think we may have a problem. ”

I arch an eyebrow. “What kind of problem?”

“I was at the club last night, and I got talking to one of our guys. You know, Fat Tony from the tobacco shop on Main Street?”

“Yeah, what about him?”

“He said some Italian guy—who spoke very little English—was in his store yesterday asking about you.”

“Me?”

“Yeah, but that’s not the worst of it.”

“Get to the fucking point,” I growl.

“He showed him a photo of a young girl and asked if he’d seen her around. I can’t be certain, but I think it may have been Lucia.”

“You think this has something to do with Salvatori?”

“Possibly. I was going to head into town and speak to some of the other store owners. See what I can find out … maybe look at some of the CCTV.”

“I’ll come with you,” I say, stepping aside to allow him to enter. “I’ll just let Arabella know I’m leaving.”

When I enter the kitchen, we find Lucia sitting at the table, her nose buried in one of those romance novels she’s always reading. The second her eyes land on Romeo, her cheeks flare bright red as her large brown eyes follow him across the room.

A grin tugs at my lips when his gaze turns in her direction, and she quickly lifts the book, hiding her face between the pages.

A low growl rumbles in the back of his throat as he shoves his hands into the pockets of his trousers and gives her his back. This thing between them is becoming awkward as fuck, but it’s still a source of amusement for me.

Arabella is standing by the stove, her hand resting on her back as she leans slightly to support her heavily pregnant stomach.

She’s always looked beautiful, but something about seeing her swollen with my child makes me feel an overwhelming sense of protectiveness towards her. The way her curves have softened over the past few months only heightens my desire.

What I feel for this woman is primitive at best … like a caveman staking his claim. I don’t even realise I’m staring until she looks over her shoulder at me, and her lips curl into a smile.

I stalk in her direction and come to a stop behind her, sliding my arms around her expanding waist. When I rest my chin on her shoulder, she turns her face and places a chaste kiss on my lips.

“Breakfast is almost ready.”

“Something’s come up, and I have to duck into town for a bit. I’ll eat when I get back.”

“Oh,” she says, frowning. “You can’t eat before you go?”

“No. This is important. I’d really like to get it sorted out straight away.” She doesn’t pry or ask questions because she knows the protocol. “Do me a favour, though; stay inside the house until I get back.”

She places the spatula in her hand on the countertop and turns in my arms. “Should I be concerned?”

“No. I’ll have some guards stationed outside just as a precaution.”

“I meant about you.”

I lean down and place my lips on hers because I don’t want her to be troubled by this. If there is, in fact, a threat, I’ll take care of it.

“You have nothing to worry about, Bellezza ,” I reassure her, my voice calm and filled with conviction. Inside, though, I feel anything but confident.

It only took a little over an hour, but we’ve already got a name: Fabrizio Donato.

It’s not a name I recognise, and he’s not someone I know. Using CCTV footage, we identified the vehicle he was driving and pulled a license plate number. It turned out to be a rental car.

At first, the employee at the rental place wasn’t exactly cooperative. Romeo, clearly as invested in this as I am, was close to losing his temper when the guy refused to give us the details we needed. He even reached across the counter and grabbed hold of his tie, yanking him forward.

I didn’t feel like violence was the answer in this case. The last thing we needed was the cops involved. Time was of the essence and money talks. After sliding a stack of hundreds across the counter, we had everything we needed on that motherfucker within minutes, including a photocopy of his international licence and a grainy photograph. He looked shady as fuck.

As we suspected, he’s an Italian national. Unfortunately, he boarded a flight home earlier this morning. Did he leave with the information he was looking for? We can’t say for sure.

Everyone we spoke to in town insisted they played dumb—probably in fear of retribution from us—as they claimed not to recognise the young woman in the photo, who we now know was, in fact, Lucia.

Did someone else or a civilian in the street give her up? I’m going to assume they did until I find out otherwise. Why else would he return home after only being in the country for two days?

Lucia is not safe until I know for sure; neither are my wife and child.

I pull out my phone once we are back in the car. “I’m going to text one of my men in Italy and see if they can intercept this fucker at the airport. I need to know if anyone gave Lucia up, who sent him here to search for her, and most importantly, why.”

“Should we fly over there and interrogate him ourselves?”

“There’s no way I’m leaving Arabella and Lucia right now. My men will handle it.”

Me: We have an issue that I’ll need you guys to take care of.

Roberto: Sure, boss, whatever you need.

Me: Someone from Italy was here asking about Lucia. I’m going to presume he was one of Salvatori’s men. He’s currently in the air, on a flight back to Italy. I’m going to need him intercepted at the airport and interrogated.

Roberto: Do you have a name?

Me: Yes. Fabrizio Donato.

Roberto: It doesn’t sound familiar.

Me: I suspect he works for Salvatori.

Roberto: Send me all the information and the flight details, and I’ll make sure it’s handled.

Me: Thank you.

Roberto: I’ll keep you updated.

Me: I appreciate it.

“Done,” I say, glancing over at my underboss.

“Good. What are our plans until we hear back from them?”

“We don’t let the girls out of our sight.” He leans back in his seat and blows out a long breath, and I can only assume he’s not happy about that prospect. “I don’t know what is going on between the two of you, but I need your help with this, so you’re going to have to put whatever differences you have aside.”

“Who, me and Lucia?”

“Yes.”

“There’s nothing going on. Like I’ve told you numerous times, she’s far too young for me.”

“There are eleven years between Arabella and I.”

“Arabella seems older than that.”

“Are you saying my wife looks old?”

He chuckles, which pisses me off. “I meant her mannerisms.”

“Her father murdered her mother when she was ten. She had to grow up fast.”

“Understandably so. Lucia’s just?—”

“Just what?” I press.

“A temptation I don’t want or need.”

I raise an eyebrow as we merge into traffic. “A temptation?”

“Relax, we’re just friends … well, we were. I’m not even sure we’re that anymore.”

“A friendship I can handle. Anything more or less than that is a complication I don’t need.”

“Message received,” he replies briefly, turning his face towards the passenger side window, signalling the end of the conversation.

“Are you hungry?” I ask. “Do you want to come back to the house for some breakfast?”

He lifts a shoulder without meeting my gaze. “I guess.”

I jolt awake as my phone vibrates on the bedside table. Carefully, I untangle myself from my wife, making sure not to disturb her, and reach for it. The time reads 1:36 am, and Roberto’s name is flashing on the screen.

Tossing back the covers, I go to get out of bed, when I hear Arabella say, “Is everything okay?”

I lean over and place a soft kiss on the side of her head. “Everything is fine, Bellezza , go back to sleep.”

“Where are you going?”

I lift the phone as I rise. “I’m just going to step outside and take this call.”

“Roberto,” I say once I’m in the hallway.

“It’s done.”

“You have him?”

“What’s left of him.”

I grimace. “What do you mean what’s left of him?”

“I don’t know how you extract information over there, but in Italy, we use whatever means possible.”

“Right. I get it now. I wasn’t sure what you meant. I’m still half asleep.”

“I’m sorry to wake you, boss, but I thought you’d like to know what we found out.”

“Yes … definitely.”

“You were right; he was hired by Giuseppe Salvatori.”

“Hmm,” I hum. Even though I expected this to be the case, that doesn’t stop an uneasy feeling from settling in the base of my stomach.

“Why was he sent here?”

“To see if Lucia Rossi was living in Australia with you and her sister.”

“Did he get confirmation?”

“That he was a little sketchy on, but when a sly smile curved on his lips, my gut told me he did.”

“Fuck.”

“I have a tech guy I know examining his phone as we speak. ”

“I want Salvatori on twenty-four-hour surveillance. Any move that cocksucker makes, I want to hear about it.”

“Of course. I’ll get someone over there now,” Roberto replies. “I’m also on my way to meet up with some of our men to discuss what else we can do from over here.”

“I can’t have him anywhere near Lucia, or my wife for that matter.”

“Understood.”

When I end the call, I head into the kitchen because I’m too wired to sleep. I’m not expecting to find anyone in there, so when I see Lucia sitting at the table—with what looks like a bottle of my best scotch sitting in front of her—I’m shocked.

“Do you always walk around the house naked?” she asks.

“I’m wearing underwear,” I answer, half-joking.

Her eyes briefly skim down the front of my body. “They don’t leave much to the imagination,” she replies with a shrug.

“Nobody’s asking you to look.”

She sighs and quickly turns her face away, her unease palpable. Something’s bothering her, and I’m betting it’s Romeo.

“From what I hear, it sounds like there’s more material in my boxers than there is in that teeny bikini you were wearing when you were flaunting your stuff in front of my underboss.”

She audibly gasps as her eyes widen to the size of saucers. “He told you about that?”

“No, Arabella did.”

“Ugh. Of course, she did. I could’ve been butt naked, and he still wouldn’t have cared. I’m starting to think he’s gay.”

I bark out a laugh as I cross the kitchen, grab a glass from the cupboard, return to the table, and take the seat opposite her, reaching for the bottle.

I know for a fact he isn’t, but I’m not stupid enough to tell her that.

“I never picked you for a closet drinker,” I say, filling my glass .

Her eyes narrow, and although she and Arabella look nothing alike, I can definitely see the similarities in their features when she does that.

“This is not what I’d call a closet,” she replies, waving her arm around the room to emphasise her words. “I could say the same for you,” she adds, gesturing to the glass in my hand as I bring it to my lips and take a sip.

“What’s going on with you, Luc?”

“I could ask the same. I heard the conversation you just had on the phone … well, your side of it anyway.”

I wince. “You did?”

“Is something happening with Giuseppe Salvatori? I heard you mention his name as well as mine.”

I blow out a long breath, down the rest of my drink and pour another. “If I tell you, you have to promise me you won’t breathe a word of it to your sister. I can’t have her stressing in her condition.”

She draws a small cross over her breastbone with the tip of her finger. “I promise I won’t say a word.”

“There was someone in town yesterday asking about you.”

“What? Who?”

“One of Giuseppe’s men.”

Her brown eyes widen. “Oh my God.”

“Don’t freak out. I’ve taken care of it, but we’re going to need to watch our backs for a while.”

“Shit,” she says, and I notice her hand is now slightly trembling as she brings her drink to her mouth and takes a large gulp.

I reach across the table and place my hand on top of hers. “Luc, you are safe here. My men and I will protect you.”

“I … I don’t want to marry that man.”

“You will marry that fucker over my dead body.”

“Don’t speak like that,” she says as her bottom lip starts to quiver. “You, Dante Mancini, are the best thing that has ever happened to my sister … and me.”

Well fuck.