17. Wolfe #2
She sat perfectly straight without the support of the chair, and whenever she sipped her wine, she looked directly at me, her diamond ring a prism of rainbows. After she took her drink, she curled her fingers underneath her chin and met my look across the table.
I could look at her forever—seriously.
I couldn’t believe she was mine. I’d literally found the only woman I’d ever want to marry, and I didn’t even have to search the whole world to find her, just looked in my backyard.
“There’s something I want to ask you.”
My euphoria was destroyed by the tone of her voice, like this wouldn’t be a happy conversation. “I’m listening.”
She absent-mindedly ran her finger around the base of her glass.
She stared at the surface of the white wine before she looked at me again, her prominent cheekbones distinct in the candlelight.
Her eyes were luminous too, a beautiful flash of green.
“After we got the vineyard back, I kinda just took over, and we haven’t really talked too much about it. ”
What was there to talk about?
“But I want to know what you want, Wolfe.”
“What do I want?” I asked blankly, not having a clue what that meant. “You—obviously.”
“I meant professionally.”
Now I was even more confused. “What are we talking about here?”
Her eyes continued to stare into mine.
“Our plan was to get the vineyard back, and I’m your top lieutenant. Your bodyguard. Your protector. The guy who kills anyone who is dumb enough to cross you. And we’re executing that plan beautifully.”
Her eyes dropped momentarily before she looked at me again.
“So what are you really trying to say, baby?”
The answer wasn’t forthcoming. She was the one who’d broached the subject, yet she was unable to verbalize her intentions. “You aren’t meant to be a follower, Wolfe. You’re meant to be a leader.”
My eyebrows furrowed at the absurd statement. “I’m not taking the position from you. Not only would I not be good at it, but I don’t want it.”
“I’m not talking about the vineyard.”
“Then what, baby?”
She stared at me.
I continued to stare into her eyes and wait for an answer. “Cosa Nostra?” I asked incredulously.
“It’s been your whole life. The plan was for you to take over, and I think that makes a lot of sense.
I’ve seen you with them, and you’re the leader—even if you technically aren’t.
You’re too good at your job to take orders from someone else.
I just wonder…if you would be happier running Cosa Nostra. ”
I stared at her for a long time because she’d just struck me with a bunch of nonsensical bullshit.
“Where is this coming from? Because I’ve never once said to you that I have any desire to return to Cosa Nostra.
I only aligned with them temporarily to get your business back.
Once I fulfill my end of the bargain, we’re done. ”
“But is that what you really want?”
I cocked my head.
“I just think…that maybe it is something you might want,” she said quietly. “And it’s okay if it is. You’re exactly the type of leader they need.”
Where the fuck is all this coming from?
“I just want you to know that if you want to return to Cosa Nostra, I would support you.”
“Support me?” I asked. “As in, sell off your family business to someone else and move to Palermo with me to be a housewife?”
“Yes.”
A wave of surprise moved over me because I hadn’t expected her to ever make a compromise like that—not that I wanted her to make it in the first place.
I tried to think of an explanation for this provocation because I hadn’t said a single thing to her to suggest I was unhappy with our lives, that I had some unfulfilled desire to be Don Barsetti of Cosa Nostra…
which was fucking ridiculous. Then an explanation struck me, remembering her and Don Russo talking together alone at the table when I was across the terrace.
“Don Russo…” He’d whispered a little manipulation in her ear. “What exactly did he say to you?”
There was hesitation in her stare, like she hadn’t expected me to figure that out.
“What did he say to you?” I repeated more forcefully.
She swallowed before she spoke. “He asked if the vineyard was something I truly wanted…or if I was led to believe it’s what I wanted. Because if it’s not, I should let you come home where you belong.”
“Where I belong.” The words felt like garbage in my mouth. “Asshole has a lot of fucking nerve.”
“I don’t think he meant any harm by it.”
“He couldn’t manipulate me, so he decided to manipulate you.”
“He didn’t manipulate me.” Her meekness started to fade.
“I’ve seen you change since you’ve returned to Cosa Nostra.
The men respect and revere you. You’re great at your job.
You’re a leader whom they will literally follow anywhere.
I just think if anyone can rule all of Cosa Nostra, it’s you.
And I don’t think it’s fair that you have to miss out on that opportunity, if you want it, to work for someone else at my vineyard. ”
“Work for someone else?” I asked with a slight laugh. “You mean my wife?”
“I’m not your wife yet—”
“I will make you my wife right fucking now if you want to get technical about it.”
“Okay.” She raised both of her hands gently in an attempt to calm me. “Let me start over.”
There was no starting over. I was pretty mad about the whole thing.
“Whatever we decide to do in this life, we decide together. If you want to rule Cosa Nostra, I will happily walk away from the vineyard to support that dream—if that’s what you want.
But if you’re happy at the vineyard, then we can do that too.
I want you to know that it’s okay. I know Palermo is your home.
I know Cosa Nostra was your life. I just want you to know that option is always on the table if you want it. It’s not a deal-breaker for me.”
This would mean a lot more to me if my mind were in that place, but it just wasn’t.
“If you didn’t exist, then maybe it’s something I would want.
But I met you at that vineyard, and my life was irrevocably changed.
Palermo will always feel like home to me, but it’ll never feel as much like home as your little villa where we fell in love.
Cosa Nostra is a big operation with a lot of enemies and work that never sleeps.
I came to the vineyard because I respected your father and the way he ran his business.
It’s simple and straightforward, but I like that.
And I consider it a great honor to work for you every day—not just because you’re my wife and I love you, but because you’re the best boss I’ve ever had. ”
Her eyes flicked back and forth between mine as she absorbed that. “I’m not your boss.”
“I can work for any organization or gang anywhere in the fucking world, but I wanted to work for your father—and now I want to work for you. Cosa Nostra is as corporate as organized crime gets. A family business that started with the original Mafia a hundred and fifty years ago is much more appealing to me. You’ll pass this business down to your children and their children.
It’s a legacy. And I want to be a part of that legacy. ”
Her eyes softened as she looked at me across the table, and she shook her head slightly as she continued to stare. “I’m afraid you might get bored.”
“Bored?” I asked with a laugh. “How can I get bored staring at your ass in those jeans all day?”
“But I’m not always going to look like this.”
“I promise I will grope your ass every day until we die. Consider that one of my wedding vows.”
She released a quiet chuckle while she rolled her eyes at the same time.
I watched the laughter reach her gaze and slowly disappear before I turned serious once more.
“It means a lot to me that you would walk away from the vineyard to support my ambitions with Cosa Nostra. It means a lot to me that you view us as a single entity rather than two different people. I would much rather serve you than lead a bunch of assholes. I’m very happy where I am. ”
Whatever reservations she had seemed to dissipate as she accepted my words. “I just wanted to make sure.”