21. Jasmine #2
“Understandable,” Roman replies smoothly.
“But Yakuza hold grudges. Insulting them with a bad deal now will be paving the way for retaliation down the line. I won’t lie, they don’t deserve an inch, but I also know my brother.
Alto is a master manipulator who excels at getting other people to do his dirty work, but I have some contacts within the Yakuza.
If you are serious about peace, I can put you in touch.
Dealing directly with the Yakuza without a middleman can make things go smoothly. ”
It’s a good offer, considering cutting Alto out of negotiations leaves a smaller window for interference, but the distrust merely deepens in my father’s dark eyes.
“And why the fuck do you have connections in the Yakuza?”
Where Roman has done an excellent job at winning over my mother, it seems every word out of his mouth makes my father trust him less.
“Because I used to run with the Yakuza,” Roman answers honestly. “It’s not a secret.”
Ah. My father was trying to trip him up.
“Dad, Roman’s talking a lot of sense. What happened to me was because of Alto, and if he’s manipulating things, then cutting him out has to be a good step. At least dealing directly with them will?—”
“I don’t need you to tell me how to run this family,” he snaps, cutting me off. “What I need is for you to prove why I should trust anything that comes out of his mouth. Once a Gatti, always a Gatti.”
“Enzo!” Bianca snaps, slamming her wine glass down on the table. “Don’t be so rude!”
“It’s honesty,” he replies sharply. “Anything we talk about here will be reported back to his scumbag of a father, and I won’t have it.”
“He is our guest!” Bianca snaps again.
“I’m here for Jasmine,” Roman says calmly, his hand tightening reflexively against my thigh. “I understand your distrust?—”
“No, you don’t.” Enzo drains his glass. “What kind of cunt puts a man in such a position that he might lose his child, and then lies to his face and accepts a thank you when he’s the one that caused the danger in the first place, hm?
How many years since he had Jasmine snatched, and he sat happy in his fucking castle.
I should have crushed him when I had the chance because there is nothing worthwhile about any kind of Gatti. ”
“Then why did you want them to get married?!” Biance slams both hands down on the table and rises out of her seat.
My heart punches up into my chest and the confession floods to the tip of my tongue. I need to tell her it was my idea, but before I can, my father also rises out of his own seat.
“Because the easiest way to get closer to that fucker is to lure him in with an engagement! He won’t dare retaliate because we all know the Mancinis and every other family is watching us like a hawk because the merging of both our families makes us big.
And I want that. I want the people and the power.
I want a seat at that fucking table. So yes, they will get married, but mark my words, Santino’s days are numbered! ”
“You’re doing all of this because you want to sit at the big table?” Wine makes my mother’s temper flare, and in a flash, she’s yelling just as loudly as my father.
“Don’t act like you don’t. You’re obsessed with their bullshit parties and fancy dinners. I see how much you want to be a part of that world, so I’m doing this for you as much as for me!”
I remain silent. What point is there to me telling the truth?
My father is so convinced that it really was his idea, I’m not even sure he will listen.
Rather than engage, I take Roman’s hand and pull him from the table.
He follows me without a word, and we remain silent until we’re in the garden and the warm night air blows away any lingering remnants of the argument.
“Wow,” Roman murmurs. “That was…”
“Are your family dinners not that eventful?”
“Not in the slightest.”
“Damn. You’re missing out.”
He snorts softly and squeezes my hand as we walk down a slabbed path lined with half-asleep flowers and silvery nightlights. “Are you alright?”
“Me?” I glance up at him, squinting slightly as we pass under a low-hanging garden light. “I’m fine. My parents argue like that all the time.”
“Really?”
“Mm-hmm. My Mom is…she’s medicated. And when she’s not medicated, she’s really floaty and not really in reality, if that makes sense.
So when something makes her happy, like dress shopping, dinner, and parties, we let her go wild.
But sometimes she explodes like that, and my father has the same kind of temper. ”
“Should I be worried?”
“No, my mother will forget this in a few hours.”
“I’m more concerned that I’m about to marry a woman who will become so floaty I’ll be having dinner parties every other week.”
“Oh!” I laugh softly and shake my head. “No, I’m fine. I take after my father, mostly.”
“Ah. So you’re a firecracker.”
“Do you even have to ask after our date?”
Roman’s laugh is loud and honest. “Nope. Best date I’ve ever had.”
“You’re welcome.”
“Mm-hmm. And your friend, is she…?”
“She’s okay. She’s recovering from his attack, and she’s in a new apartment with a live-in security guard until she feels safe.”
“Look at you.” Roman pulls me to a gentle stop underneath a wooden trellis covered in winding honeysuckle and various other plants that rest softly under the stars. “You’re taking care of everyone.”
“Hardly.” The sweet floral scents tickle my nose, but it quickly becomes an afterthought as Roman very slowly presses me up against the trellis with his eyes locked onto mine.
“You’re marrying me to keep your family safe, you’re helping your father, appeasing your mother, taking care of your best friend.
” He lists each thing in a slow, buttery tone that sends warm tingles up and down my arms and legs.
Staring up into his gorgeous butterscotch eyes, my heart starts to race.
“It’s what anyone would do,” I reply softly, briefly glancing down at his full, soft lips.
“Is it?” His voice drops an octave lower. “You’ve seen my family. Not a good word shared between them.”
“Well, you’re soon to be part of my family so…
so…” Roman leans in closer and closer with each word I speak, and thoughts fade from my mind.
My point is lost to the eager racing of my heart.
I grip onto the trellis behind me with one hand, rough wood digging into my palm while my other hand lightly grabs his silk tie.
“Your family are so…?” he asks.
Nose to nose, I can’t think of anything else to say. I blink slowly, and his eyes turn into pots of deep honey that I’m losing myself in. Warmth radiates from his thick torso even through his suit, and my mouth runs dry. “I um…I forget.”
“Don’t worry about it,” he says in a whisper, his lips so close that they lightly brush mine as he speaks. “But I do have one question.”
“Mm-hmm?” I nod, feeling slightly dazed as the anticipation for a kiss rises, but he refuses to commit.
“Who takes care of the girl who takes care of everyone else?”
I need an answer. Something honest and sweet, but only one reply enters my mind. “My vibrator.”
Roman bursts out laughing, slides one strong arm around my waist, and kisses me deeply with a smile that melts against mine.
He kisses me like I’m the most important thing in the world and holds me against his body like he never wants to let me go.
His cuddles are so tight that it’s like he’s trying to compact me into him, and I love it in a way I have no idea how to explain.
And the true answer to his question? Only one person has ever taken care of me.
A sexy masked man with gorgeous ink on his arms.
Who just so happens to be my fiancé.
My dislike for Roman as a Gatti vanishes into the night, leaving only an aching yearning in my chest.
And I like it.