Chapter 38
ROSALIE
The drive to the marina was a short one, but the anticipation made it feel a lot longer.
Max helped me out of the car when we arrived, holding onto my hand tightly.
The yacht was massive, its sleek white hull shining under the setting sun.
The name “Zvezda” was painted in elegant cursive writing on its side, and the deck was well-lit with soft golden light.
A crew member greeted us at the small bridge, offering us a nod as he led us on board.
Max didn’t let go of my hand as we stepped onto the boat. I steadied myself, holding onto his arm as I walked across the wobbly deck in my heels. I didn’t want to admit it, but I liked it when he touched me. When he held onto me like this.
The yacht’s deck was even more impressive up close, with polished wood floors and plenty of seating along the walls. As Max guided me through the space, his hand fell to the small of my back. I could hear the murmur of conversation and laughter, which only made my nerves worse.
Max moved his hand to my stomach, pulling me in close. “Hey,” he began. “I need you to take this seriously. Your attitude stays at the door, got it?”
My mouth fell slightly. “Bite me,” I argued, stepping in front of him and rolling my eyes.
“Tempting,” I heard him mumble.
We reached the dining area, which was set up with a long table covered in crisp white linens, fine china, and sparkling glasses of champagne.
At the head of the table was a man with salt-and-pepper hair and a commanding stare.
His sharp eyes scanned the entire room in a single glance.
Beside him was a woman—by the looks of it, Max’s mother.
She had the same sharp nose and round eyes as Max.
Her dark hair was pulled back into a twist, her smile bright as she laughed with the person across from her.
She was talking with Valentina, who sipped on a glass of vodka where she sat right next to my mother. Margot was on her other side.
Great.
“Max!” his mother exclaimed as she approached us. She embraced Max, then she turned to me with a smile. “You must be the lovely lady we’ve heard so much about.”
Max’s father stepped forward, his handshake firm but not overbearing. I could see where Max got his looks and his height from.
“Welcome. It’s a pleasure to finally meet you,” he said.
“Thank you for having me,” I replied, hoping my voice sounded steadier than I felt. I was already messing this up, wasn’t I? “It’s an honor to be here.”
An honor? What the hell was I even saying?
Max’s hand found its way to my back again, and he brushed his thumb softly against the opening of the dress. As we moved to take our seats, he pulled out a chair for me and took a seat right beside mine, resting his hand possessively on my knee under the table.
Max leaned in closer, his breath warm against my ear. “You’re doing great.”
I smiled as Max’s father stood, raising his glass. The room fell silent as all eyes turned to him.
“Ladies and gentlemen,” he began, “I want to extend a welcome to Rosalie, who will be joining the family. We are pleased to have you with us tonight, and by the looks of it, you’ll fit into the Romano family well.”
Max’s mother raised her glass. “To new beginnings,” she toasted.
“To new beginnings,” everyone echoed, and we all drank.
As the dinner progressed, I couldn’t help but notice the tension that seemed to weave its way through conversations.
Max’s cousin—the one with the furrowed brow and the agitated tone—repeatedly voiced his concerns about the way my uncle gambled.
My uncle, not one to back down, criticized Max’s cousin for his incessant griping and inability to keep his useless opinions to himself.
It was subtle, but it was there—a small reminder that our families wouldn’t merge seamlessly. Across the table, Sean kept exchanging looks with my father, which did nothing but spike my nerves.
The Romano family wasn’t one you wanted to cause problems with. They were the second most powerful family in New York City. The Genovese family was the first, and they were here tonight.
Vincenzo, Max’s cousin—the one who caused more problems than he solved—joined the conversation. “Max tells us you have a good head on your shoulders. That’s important in our world.”
I nodded, scared he’d give me a backhanded compliment. I knew what my father said about the Romanos. I was expecting countless insults, but I’d heard nothing but good things so far.
“Thank you,” I said with a smile.
Max squeezed my hand under the table.
“So,” Vincenzo said with a mischievous grin, “have you heard any stories about our family?”
I glanced at Max. “No,” I admitted cautiously. “I’m sure there’s a lot I don’t know, for obvious reasons.”
Sean chuckled from a few seats down. “Oh, there are plenty of stories. Some of them true, some . . . embellished.” He glared at Vincenzo.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Vincenzo shot back, his tone defensive. “Are you calling me a liar?”
“Vincenzo,” Max demanded. “Take a walk.”
“All right, have it your way.” Vincenzo stood abruptly, his chair scraping against the floor. He shot a venomous look at Sean before storming out of the room.
“I apologize for my cousin.”
As he left, the first course was served: a platter full of a variety of cured meats, cheeses, and marinated vegetables. The flavors were rich, which was exactly what I expected on a yacht like this.
The conversation shifted to lighter topics. My momma started to talk to Max’s Aunt Maria, who had a stern face but kind eyes and an eye for heels. They’d get along well, I was sure.
The main course arrived: pasta (which didn’t have half a cup of salt in it), seafood, and roasted meat. It had everyone digging in.
Soon after eating, everyone got up to walk around. Max had a huge family—it would be impossible to meet all of them tonight. I mean, he had twenty-six cousins on his father’s side alone. It was impossible.
Max led me to the bar, where he ordered me a martini—my favorite. He excused himself for a moment when he saw Mikhail come into the room.
As I took a sip, a woman approached me with a baby in her arms. She had a gentle smile, and I recognized her from our earlier introductions. This was Nina, Max’s sister, who was married to the capo.
“Hi,” she greeted, shifting the baby to her other arm. “I’ve heard so much about you. It’s nice to finally put a face to the name.”
“Likewise,” I said, genuinely meaning it. Ever since Margot mentioned Nina had worked on a few pieces with Brooke, I’d been wanting to meet her.
“Max mentioned you have an interest in art,” she said. “Have you had a chance to see my collection with Brooke?”
“I haven’t yet, but I’d love to,” I replied eagerly. “I’ve been friends with Brooke for years. Her mom told me you two opened a place in Chicago.”
Nina smiled. “And here in the city. We should arrange a night at the gallery. That is, if our families don’t kill each other before that.”
I laughed, feeling the burn of gin in my throat. “Your family is wonderful.”
She chuckled. “They can be a handful, but they mean well. This little one is mine, by the way.” She looked down fondly at the baby, who had the same dark hair as Nina’s husband, and the same bright eyes as her. “This is Mira.”
Mira cooed happily in response.
“She’s a cutie. How old?”
“Just a few months,” Nina said proudly.
We continued to chat. Nina shared stories about her life and her family. It was clear she adored Max.
He came up behind me, his hand finding my back. “I see you’ve met baby Mira,” he said, reaching his free hand out to the baby’s legs. She looked up at Max with bright eyes and kicked her little feet.
“Max,” Nina said, shifting her focus onto her brother. “Do you have that stuffed elephant you promised her?”
“Yeah, but it’s at the house. I’ll bring it next time.”
Nina laughed. “You’d better. Otherwise, she might start to think Uncle Carlo is her favorite.”
Max’s eyes widened slightly. “Carlo? Over me? Doubtful.”
Eventually, Nina excused herself, saying it was time to put Mira down to nap. She brought me in for a hug and kissed my cheek. “It was great to meet you. We should arrange that night at the gallery.”
“Oh, I’d love that,” I said. “I eventually want to collect a piece for each wall. Might as well start now.”
“I knew I’d like you.” Nina gave Max a glare and a playful shove. “Take care of her.”
“I always do.”
She smiled and then headed off, leaving Max and me alone.
Suddenly, there were raised voices. My heart thumped hard in my chest. I was worried our families would clash and someone would have to pay the consequences. Hesitant, I turned to find Max’s cousin, Vincenzo, yelling at someone I didn’t recognize.
“You think you can disrespect me and my family?” Vincenzo shouted, his voice carrying across the room.
The other man, a tall guy, sneered. “Grow up, Vince. You’ve always been full of hot air.”
Giovanni immediately stepped in. “Not the place,” he demanded. “Not the fucking place. Go somewhere else—both of you.”
Vincenzo pointed an accusing finger at the man. “Piece of shit. He insulted us.”
Giovanni’s hand reached for his temple in frustration. “Jesus Christ.”
The man shrugged. “I just spoke the truth. If Vince can’t handle it, that’s his problem.”
Before things could escalate any further, Max squeezed my hand and whispered, “Stay here,” before he left my side to join Giovanni.
Giovanni’s voice was low. “This isn’t the time nor the place. We’ll settle it later.”
Vincenzo, however, wasn’t backing down. “He disrespected us. Right in front of everyone.”
Max stepped in, placing a firm hand on Vincenzo’s shoulder. “We’ll deal. You’re causing a scene.”
Vincenzo shrugged off Max’s hand, his eyes ablaze with anger. “He’s messing with our shipments, Max. Our business, and you want me to let it go?”
Max’s jaw tightened. “What do you mean, ‘messing with our shipments’?”
The other man, clearly unfazed by the confrontation, crossed his arms as Dimitri stepped into the picture. “Your cousin here thinks he runs everything. But there have been . . . discrepancies.”
“Discrepancies?” Max echoed, his voice dangerously calm. “Such as . . .?”
Giovanni’s eyes narrowed impatiently. “Get on with it, Mason.”
“Some of the shipments have been lighter than they should be. Money’s missing. And Vince here has been pointing fingers at me without proof.”
Vincenzo didn’t waste a second, his face turning red. “I know it’s you. You’ve been skimming off the top and blaming it on me.”
Mason laughed—a harsh sound that grated on Max’s nerves. “You’ve got no proof, Vince. Just you and your paranoia.”
Max turned to Giovanni. “He’s probably got my money. Marco’s too.”
Giovanni nodded. “Mikhail, take Mason outside.”
Mikhail stepped forward and took Mason, leading him out of the room.
Breaking the silence, Valentina ordered a glass of vodka from where she sat at the bar. Her hair hung in a loose ponytail, and she wore a sleek black dress that made the dark circles under her eyes stand out more. She looked tired.
The bartender placed the drink in front of her. As she reached for it, her hand trembled ever so slightly. She paused, took a deep breath, and then brought the glass to her lips.
I saw her eyes light up the moment she took a sip. I wondered how she’d been doing since Cillian passed.
Valentina’s phone buzzed on the counter, drawing her attention. She glanced at the screen, pressing her lips into a thin line. The message remained unread as she slipped the phone back into her clutch, her jaw tightening ever so slightly.
A group of men found their way to the bar, their loud laughter momentarily breaking their chatter.
Valentina’s eyes darted toward them, her body tensing.
One of the men offered his hand, attempting an introduction, but his efforts were useless.
If only he knew never to offer Valentina a hand.
She would never take it. Valentina had a track record of not allowing men to lay a hand on her, and that included simple introductions.
She wasn’t interested—not even in the slightest.
I approached her, shooing off the men who surrounded her like flies. I honestly couldn’t blame them. She was stunning.
She tipped her head back, taking a few large sips of her drink, before she turned to face me. “I hear congratulations are in order,” she said, her voice dripping with playful sarcasm.
“Congratulations?” I asked, puzzled.
Valentina raised an eyebrow. “Your engagement, of course. To a mobster, no less.”
I laughed, caught off-guard for some reason. Valentina had a way of keeping everyone on their toes. “Oh, that. Yes, thank you. It’s been . . . interesting.”
She leaned in, lowering her voice. “So what’s it like? Do you get a big gun to go with the ring?”
Her accent made everything she said amusing to me. “No, but I got a big, infuriating man to go with it. He’s always off doing who knows what.”
Valentina laughed. “They always are. Your uncle was almost never home. He always had things in Chicago to deal with.”
“And how did you put up with it?” I asked, genuinely curious about how she managed.
She shrugged. “I didn’t marry him for love, mija. I was happy when he left. His absence was a blessing in disguise. I had the house to myself and could do as I pleased.”
I nodded, thinking about her words. Valentina’s perspective was always unique. “I guess it’s not so bad then, having all that freedom. But still, doesn’t it get lonely?”
She smiled. “Sometimes, yes. But you find ways to fill the void. Friends, hobbies, maybe a lover on the side if you’re discreet enough.”
I looked at her, a little surprised by her admittance. “You had a lover on the side?”
“Once, but that was a long time ago. I sleep with whoever I want now he’s dead. But enough about me. Tell me about you and him.”
I hesitated, not sure how to sum up my fiancé in a few words. “He’s complicated. Intense. Protective. Wants to have everything under his control. You know.”
Valentina tilted her head, studying me. “Sounds like a handful. Good luck planning a bachelorette party with him.”
“I’m not having one,” I replied. The idea of a bachelorette party seemed absurd to Max.
She blinked, a look of disbelief crossing her face. “Oh, you’ll be having one. Trust me. You need it even if you don’t realize it.”
I raised an eyebrow. “It’s impossible to do things without him breathing down my neck.”
“You deserve just one night to let go and have fun. Daisy and I will handle everything. You just need to show up.”
I had a feeling Max wouldn’t like this much, and that made me smile.