Chapter Ten
Adriana
I stand frozen in the doorway of Dante’s study, my heart pounding. I knock on the door.
“Enter,” Dante’s deep voice commands from within.
I push open the heavy door, the hinges creaking ominously. Dante sits behind his massive desk, his laptop opened before him. His eyes flick up to look at me.
“What is it, cara mia?” He asks, his tone slightly softening.
I swallow hard. “I was hoping… I’d like to have lunch with my mother and Valentina today.”
Dante leans back in his chair, looking at me intently. Silence stretches between us, taut as a wire. I hold my breath.
“Very well,” he finally says. “But you’ll take Enzo with you.”
Relief washes over me, quickly followed by a pang of frustration. “Is that really necessary?” I ask, trying to keep the irritation from my voice.
Dante’s eyes narrow. “It’s non-negotiable, Adriana. Your safety is paramount.”
I nod, knowing better than to argue further.
“Thank you,” I reply.
Dante picks up his phone, his fingers flying over the keys. Within moments, a sharp knock at the door announces Enzo’s arrival.
The burly man enters, his presence filling the room. “You called for me, boss?”
“Escort my wife to lunch with her mother. Keep her safe,” Dante orders.
Enzo nods curtly. “Of course.”
“Ready when you are, Mrs. Rossi,” Enzo says, his voice gruff but not unkind.
As we leave Dante’s study, I can feel his gaze burning into my back. The weight of his scrutiny lingers even as we make our way down the staircase.
“Where are we headed, Mrs. Rossi?” Enzo asks.
“Caf?? Bellissimo on Via Roma,” I reply.
We exit the mansion and Enzo ushers me quickly to the waiting black SUV at the bottom of the steps, its tinted windows reflecting the manicured gardens surrounding us. Enzo opens the rear door for me, his eyes never ceasing their vigilant sweep of the area.
I slide into the cool leather interior and Enzo takes his place in the driver’s seat, his broad shoulders filling the space. As we pull away from the house, I watch it shrink in the side mirror,
As we drive, I steal glances at Enzo’s stoic profile. His jaw is clenched, eyes constantly checking the side and rearview mirrors.
I bite my lip, conflicted. Part of me is grateful for the protection, knowing the dangers that come with being a Rossi. But another part chafes at the lack of privacy, of normalcy.
“You don’t have to hover quite so close at the restaurant,” I venture.
Enzo’s eyes meet mine in the rearview mirror. “With all due respect, Mrs. Rossi, I do. Your safety is my top priority.”
I sigh, sinking back into the seat. The car glides through the streets of Rome, carrying me towards a bittersweet reunion.
The SUV pulls up to Café Bellissimo. My heart races as I scan the outdoor tables. There - I spot them. Mom and Valentina.
Enzo opens my door. “I’ll be watching, Mrs. Rossi.”
I nod, pulse quickening as I approach. Mom sees me first, her eyes lighting up. She stands, arms outstretched.
“Adriana, tesoro!”
I collapse into her embrace, inhaling her familiar scent of lavender and home. Tears prick my eyes.
“Oh, Mom!” I cry.
Valentina envelops us both in a hug. “We’ve missed you!”
“I’ve missed you too!” my voice us thick with emotions.
As we pull apart, I notice the concern in their eyes, poorly masked by their smiles.
“Shall we go inside?” I suggest, acutely aware of Enzo’s watchful presence.
We walk inside and a waiter take us to our table, leaving us the menu for us to look at before disappearing. Once seated at our table, a heavy silence falls. I fidget with my wedding ring, unsure where to begin.
“How are you, really?” my mother asks softly, her hand covering mine.
I take a deep breath, meeting their worried gazes. “It’s… complicated,” I admit. “Dante is… not what I expected.”
Valentina leans in, her voice low. “Is he hurting you?”
I shake my head quickly. “No.”
“Then what is it?” Valentina asks.
The waiter appears at our table, interrupting our conversation. “Are you ladies ready to order?” he asks, pen poised over his notepad.
I realize I haven’t even glanced at the menu. “Oh, um…” I fumble, my mind still swimming with thoughts of my new life.
“We’ll have the chef’s special pasta and a bottle of the house red,” my mother smoothly interjects, her calm voice a balm to my frazzled nerves. The waiter nods and retreats.
As soon as he’s out of earshot, I lean in close. “I need to tell you both something,” I begin to say, feeling my pulse quicken. “Dante… he’s not what I expected.”
Valentina’s eyebrows shoot up. “What do you mean, cara?”
I take a deep breath. “He’s actually… nice to me. Considerate, even.”
“But?” Mom prompts gently.
“But I’m so confused. How can I reconcile this with the man my father practically sold me to? And yet…”
“And yet you’re starting to have feelings,” Valentina finishes softly.
I nod, tears spilling over. “Is that wrong? After everything?”
Mom cups my face. “Oh, tesoro. Your heart isn’t wrong for feeling.”
“We’re here for you,” Valentina adds fiercely. “No matter what.”
Their words wrap around me like a warm blanket.
“I love you guys,” I croak as I wipe a stray tear.
“We love you too,” They say back.
Just then, The waiter returns with plates steaming with aromatic pasta and seafood. We shift to lighter topics, savoring both the food and the moment.
“Remember that time we snuck out to that concert?” Valentina giggles, twirling linguine on her fork.
I snort, nearly choking on my wine. “God, we were so clueless. I thought my heart would burst from excitement.”
Mom shakes her head, but her eyes twinkle. “You girls were always trouble together.”
As we reminisce, I feel a renewed sense of self. These memories, this connection - it’s all still mine.
Too soon, our plates are empty. A knot forms in my stomach as I realize it’s time to leave. We stand, hugging tightly.
“Stay strong, mia cara,” Mom says, her embrace fierce.
I nod, not trusting my voice. Valentina squeezes my hand, her smile a promise of unwavering friendship.
As we exit, Enzo materializes by my side. His eyes scan constantly, muscles taut beneath his suit.
“All clear, Mrs. Rossi,” he tells me, guiding me to the car with a firm hand on my lower back.
I slide in, watching Mom and Valentina fade into the distance. Enzo takes the wheel.
“Thank you, Enzo,” I say softly as we pull away from the curb.
He meets my eyes in the rearview mirror, a flicker of surprise crossing his face before his expression smooths. “Just doing my job, Signora.”
The city blurs past. I press my forehead to the cool glass, lost in thought.
My fingers trace idle patterns on the leather seat as the car weaves through traffic. The lunch with Mom and Valentina has left me raw, yet strangely invigorated.
The ride passes by in silence and soon, the car rolls to a stop. Enzo opens my door, scanning the driveway with vigilant eyes.
“We’re home, Mrs. Rossi.”
I square my shoulders, exit the car and stride towards the front door, heels clicking against the pavement.
Inside, the house is quiet. Too quiet. I pause, listening. The faint murmur of the TV drifts from the living room. My heart rate quickens as I move towards the sound.
Dante sprawls on the couch, eyes fixed on some action movie. His gaze snaps up to me when I enter, dark and unreadable. The air thickens, charged with unspoken tension.
“I’m back,” I unnecessarily announce, plastering a small smile.
His eyes narrow, searching my face. What does he see? I feel stripped bare, but I don’t look away.
“How was your lunch?” Dante asks, muting the TV. His tone is casual, but I sense the undercurrent of curiosity.
I take a steadying breath. “It was… nice. Thank you for letting me go.”
He raises an eyebrow. “Did you think I’d keep you prisoner, cara?”
The pet name gives me butterfly. “No, I just… I appreciate it.”
Dante stands, moving towards me with predatory grace. “And what did you ladies discuss?”
I swallow hard. “Just catching up. My mother asked how I was settling in.”
“And how did you answer?” His eyes bore into mine.
“I told her the truth,” I say, lifting my chin. “That you’ve been kind to me.”
Something flashes in Dante’s eyes - surprise? Satisfaction? He reaches out, his fingers tracing my jaw. “And have I been, Adriana? Kind?”
My breath catches.
“Yes,” I answer.
He leans in, his lips touching my ear. “Good. Because I intend to be very… kind… to you right now.”
Before I can react, his mouth claims mine. The kiss is hungry, possessive. I should resist, but my body betrays me. I melt into him, my hands fisting in his shirt.
Dante growls, deepening the kiss. There’s a desperation in it that matches the chaos in my own heart. I’m drowning in sensation, in the taste of him, in the heat of his body against mine.
When we finally break apart, we’re both breathing hard. I stare up at him, dazed and conflicted. This man is dangerous, a criminal. But he’s also my husband. And right now, looking into his eyes, I see something that terrifies me more than his reputation ever could.
I see a glimmer of vulnerability. Of need.
And I realize, with a jolt of fear and exhilaration, that I’m not the only one caught in the web of emotions.