14
A lessandra jolted awake when she felt the mattress move. Opening her eyes, she groggily made sense of Roman’s darkened form sliding in beside her. He settled on his back, one arm tucked under his head.
“You're home,” she said quietly.
There was a small pause before he spoke, his voice rough and coated in tiredness. “Go back to sleep.”
Brows furrowing, she propped herself up on her elbow and fought a yawn. He sounded off. Squinting to make out the contours of his face in the dark, she wondered what time it was. She’d gone to bed after midnight, so it must have been later than that. “Everything okay?”
“Everything’ s fine.”
“Rough day?”
He didn’t answer, which meant she was probably right. Not that she was interested in the gritty details of his work, but for some reason, she found herself worrying when he was in one of his bad moods.
After a moment of hesitation, she scooted closer and placed her head on his chest, hoping he wouldn’t mind the proximity. Roman wasn’t exactly a cuddler, but he did usually hold her in the minutes before falling asleep. At least, when he was home.
She didn’t know his limits, especially when he was upset, but to her relief, his arm wrapped around her shoulders, pulling her closer. Alessandra felt a soft smile tug at her lips, and within minutes, she was once again fast asleep.
The next morning, she woke up alone. Sitting up in bed, she heard the shower run behind the closed bathroom door.
On the nightstand, Roman's phone vibrated with a string of incoming texts.
Ignoring the noisy device, she got out of bed and headed for the bathroom.
Roman was just stepping out of the shower when she entered.
He reached for a towel, his blue eyes raking over the pink boy shorts and matching tank top she was wearing.
“Morning,” she said with a small yawn, reaching for her toothbrush.
Instead of a verbal answer, he pressed his lips to the side of her neck on his way out of the bathroom. Seconds later, she heard the doors to the walk-in closet open and knew he was getting ready for a new day.
When she made her way downstairs for coffee, she found Roman sitting at the kitchen island, frowning down at his cell phone.
He was fully dressed in a navy suit, his silver Cartier watch catching the morning sunlight filtering in past the half-lowered blinds.
His cup of steaming coffee sat in front of him, halfway finished already.
Alessandra paused beside her husband, and, on a whim, ran her fingers through the hair at his nape. “Are you sure you're okay?”
For a split second, he looked caught off guard by the tender gesture.
Abandoning his phone on the island, he wrapped an arm around her waist and pulled her into his lap.
“I have a busy day ahead.” He kissed her lips, his free hand stroking her inner thigh.
“What about you? What are you doing today?”
“Actually, I wanted to ask you if it's okay to visit my parents.”
He didn't seem to like the idea, judging by the downward pull of his eyebrows.
Something in Alessandra's chest tightened.
Although she wasn't exactly keen on seeing her father, she did miss her mother and brother.
The mere notion that her husband could ever forbid her from seeing her family sent a sudden jolt of anxiety through her body.
“I need Andrei today. I'll send someone else to drive you.”
Relieved that he wasn't denying her, she gave his unshaved cheek a quick peck. It was surprising how comfortable she felt around him when it was just the two of them. Roman reached for his coffee, offering her a sip first. She scrunched up her nose. “You take it without sugar.”
He chuckled, amused by her aversion to unsweetened drinks. After draining the cup, he placed Alessandra on her feet and got up from the stool.
He was almost at the door when he stopped and turned around. “How do you feel about a trip to Europe?”
Alessandra's brows shot up, taken by surprise by the question. “I, uh... I'd love to go.”
“Good. Pick a country and maybe look for accommodations and see when you can find plane tickets. I have two weeks off.”
“Anything in particular you want me to look for?”
“A place with a nice beach, mostly. I’ll let you figure out the details.”
When he was gone, Alessandra leaned against the island, contemplating Roman’s vacation proposal.
Excitement bubbled up inside of her. It had been years since she’d flown across the ocean.
On their last family trip, her father had taken them back to Sicily, but it had been more than four years since.
There were so many places she wanted to see.
Plus, it wouldn’t hurt to have a belated honeymoon now that she and Roman were better acquainted with each other.
With renewed purpose, she made herself a large mug of coffee with milk, poured sugar in it, and rushed upstairs to her laptop.
???
As the sleek sedan came to a stop in front of the Rossetti mansion, the guard at the gate stepped forward, one hand going behind his back. The driver, Ivan, muttered something in Russian, his dark eyes set on the man wearing a black suit and shades.
“Thank you for the ride,” Alessandra said, fingers already on the door handle. In her haste to prevent a conflict in front of her family home, she darted outside, not waiting to hear if Ivan bothered with an answer.
The guard removed his hand from behind his suit jacket as soon as he saw her. “Miss,” he greeted politely, taking a step back.
“Hello,” she said with a smile, walking past him and toward the house. She knew him by face, though she couldn’t remember his name.
High-heeled sandals clicking on the pavement, Alessandra entered through the open gate, and her eyes immediately fell on Ronnie, crouched down beside her mother’s SUV, checking one of the back tires.
The sound of her heels caught his attention, and he looked up, his face breaking into a grin when he realized who the newcomer was.
“I'll be damned.” He stood, his tall form unfolding to its full six foot five inches of solid muscle. Despite being in his late forties, he still looked as if he could crush a man with his bare hands. His gaze flitted over her face and his grin slowly melted into a flat line. “You good,shortcake?”
Alessandra was by no means short, but the nickname had stuck ever since she was a child. “I'm great. How have you been, Ronnie?”
He shrugged, gesturing to the car beside him. “Same old, same old.”
“How’s Linda?”
His smile reappeared at the mention of his wife. “She’s good. I’ll tell her I ran into you.”
“Tell her ‘hello’ from me.”
“Will do. How’s the husband?”
Alessandra understood the double meaning of that question. She smiled because she knew it came from a good place since Ronnie was practically family. “He’s alright. I have to head inside, but it’s good to see you.”
“You too, shortcake. Take care of yourself, you hear?”
With a wave goodbye, she walked up to the front door and stepped inside without bothering to knock. She didn't know what had alerted Gabriella of her presence, but a moment later, her mother came barreling down the hall, spilling into the foyer with her arms extended.
“ Bambina !” she gushed, pulling her daughter into a tight hug. “Oh, I have missed you so much. How is that man treating you?”
Alessandra drew back from her mother's embrace to look at her face. “I missed you, too, Mamma. How are you?”
“Worried sick about you, figlia mia .” Gabriella stroked her long hair, giving her a gentle smile. “You look well.”
“I'm fine, really. Roman is good to me.”
“Is he truly? You're not lying to your mother, are you?”
Alessandra fought an eye-roll. “I promise everything is okay. He's a decent man.”
It didn’t matter she’d already told her mother that about three hundred times over the phone; Gabriella still had her doubts when it came to her new son-in-law. Which Alessandra supposed was normal, given the family he came from.
“Good, good.” Gabriella nodded, looking relieved. “Come, let's sit down. If I knew you were coming, I would have made that panettone you like so much.”
“Stop fretting, Mamma.” She followed her mother into the living room. “Is Papà home?”
“No, he’s out. I don't know when he will be back.”
Happy that she wouldn’t have to deal with her father, Alessandra sat on the couch with a lighter heart. “I texted Matty earlier. He said he'll stop by to see me while I'm here.”
“Don't get your hopes up, bambina . You know how busy he is.”
Alessandra nodded but didn’t take her mother’s reserved observation too seriously. Despite the six-year age difference, she and Matteo had always been close, even as children. She knew he was going to do everything he could to see her. “Can I get a glass of lemonade?”
“Sure, amore . I’ll be back in a minute.”
As her mother left the room, Alessandra grabbed her phone and glanced at the time. It was half past two in the afternoon. Opening thelatestconversation with her brother, she texted him again.
I'm here. Are you coming?
His reply came a few seconds later.
On my way.
Gabriella returned only minutes later with two tall glasses filled with homemade lemonade. She gave Alessandra one then sat down beside her. “So, tell me everything. How is he?”
“He's nice, Mamma, and I really like him. He's letting me go to college.”
“ Madonna mia .” Gabriella pressed a hand to her chest as if her heart couldn't take such news. “What need does a married woman have for college?”
“Why is it so outrageous that I want to have an education and maybe work?”
“But you don't need to work, figlia mia . Your husband is wealthy enough. He will be the head of his family someday. He needs a wife to raise his children, not chase after some career that will do her no good.”