Chapter 21
Chapter Twenty-One
Istare at my wife as she piles her hair up into a ponytail, only to pull it out and let the blonde strands fall over her shoulders. She’s done this six times in the last ten minutes while frowning at her reflection.
“You have the most beautiful hair I’ve ever seen, Dani. It doesn’t matter how you wear it.”
“You have to say nice things because you want to get into my vagina later,” she retorts.
“Correction: I want to get into your vagina now, not later. But you seem to think we need to go to dinner at my parents’.”
“We’ve put this off for five days, CJ,” she says.
Five days. This woman has been my wife for five days and I’ve never been happier.
Especially now that the doc’s meds have kicked in and the infection I was suffering from is on the way out.
Daniella and I have locked ourselves away in this apartment.
After the first twenty-four hours, I got tired of everyone being here and kicked all of their asses out.
We needed the time alone, without the opinions of everyone else. We needed to reconnect with each other. There isn’t a doubt in my mind that I’ve made the right choice in marrying her. That doesn’t mean we don’t have a lot of issues to work through. Especially the self-doubt that weighs her down.
I can’t begin to even pretend to understand what she’s been through, how not being able to have children affects her.
She says she’s come to terms with it, but I don’t think she has.
Of course I’m not fucking stupid enough to tell her that.
I have, however, started to look for a therapist. I want her to talk to someone about it.
Really talk, without the fear of judgement.
I also want to do sessions with her, so when I tell her I accept her and that she’s enough for me, she doesn’t question it.
Again, not something I’ve brought up with her yet.
“Seriously, Dani, they’re our parents. They don’t care what you look like. Why are you trying to impress them?”
“I’m the woman who went and took your mother’s son away, CJ. I’m also the woman who isn’t going to be able to give her grandchildren. At least if I look good, she won’t think I’m too ugly for you.”
“Even a blind person can see your beauty, Daniella. Because it doesn’t come from the package. It comes from what’s inside you.” I run my eyes up the length of her. She’s dressed in a light-pink, skin-tight dress with nude heels. “Not that the package isn’t a fucking knockout,” I add.
“Again, you just want to get into my vagina.”
“Again, yes, I do. So I think you should let me.” I step towards her.
“After dinner. You are not ruining my makeup.” She holds out a hand, stopping my advance.
“I’ve never hated family more than I do right now,” I grunt. “Let’s go. The sooner we get there, the sooner we can leave.”
“Okay, this will just have to do.” Daniella huffs as she picks up a purse. I reach out an arm and she places her palm in mine.
“You really do look gorgeous, and I’m not just saying that because I want to get into your pussy.”
“Thank you,” she says. “You don’t look too shabby yourself.”
“Thanks.”
The moment we step into the underground garage, we’re surrounded by twenty of my father’s soldiers. Daniella looks around, not the slightest bit fazed by the extra security.
“Bit of an overkill, don’t you think?” She quirks a brow.
“Last week someone tried to take you out, Daniella. No, I would say this isn’t even close to being enough.”
“You don’t know that they were after me. They could have been after you.”
“I do know, actually. Whoever your father is here to deal with isn’t too happy about it. They went after you to get at him.”
“What? Why has no one told me this?”
“I thought you knew.” I shrug. Grabbing the passenger side door, I hold it open for her.
“I can open doors myself, CJ,” she snaps.
“I’m aware. But if my mother found out I wasn’t opening doors for you, she’d have my ass. And between you and me, I’m not going to piss off the woman who makes this city’s best lasagna.”
“I think marrying me might have pissed her off. She still fed you.” Daniella rolls her eyes.
I close the door and jog around the hood of the car to the driver’s side.
I wait until the security detail is ready.
Four cars lead the convoy and four cars follow behind as we exit the garage in one straight line.
This isn’t the first time the guys have done this.
They know what to do, and how to execute it well.
“We should look for a house,” I tell Daniella.
“What?”
“A house. We should look into buying one. Get out of the apartment. Somewhere away from the city a bit,” I suggest.
“I hear Melbourne has great real estate,” she counters.
We haven’t really had the whole where are we going to live talk. I’ve been putting it off, because I know this is a topic that’s going to cause friction between us.
When I don’t respond, Daniella laughs. “Relax, CJ. I’m aware you won’t move to Australia.”
I turn to look at her. “If it meant that much to you, I would,” I tell her. Would I like it? Fuck no. I love this city. But I love her more, and being wherever she is… well, that’s my priority in life now.
“I think we should buy a house in both places. I mean, I can buy one in Australia. You buy one here and we can travel between both,” she says.
“There is no I or you anymore, Dani. It’s we. We will buy one in Australia, and we will buy one here,” I correct her. “And we will use the funds that come from our joint bank account.”
“What joint bank account? We don’t have a joint bank account, CJ.”
“We do. I had you added to all of my accounts. The cards have been ordered for you.”
“When did you do that?”
“The night we were married. I sent the instructions to my finance guy.”
“That’s insane.”
“Why? You’re my wife. You need access to our money.”
“I have money. I don’t need yours.”
“It’s not mine. It’s ours,” I remind her.
“Fine. I’ll have money transferred into our joint account, then,” she huffs,
“Your money is yours. Keep it in your own accounts.” I don’t need her money, and it’s my responsibility to take care of her, not the other way around.
“You know, that’s very 1940s of you, CJ. I can and will contribute to our life just as much as you do. I’m not going to just sit around and leech off my husband’s hard work.”
I can’t help the stupid smile that spreads over my face. “I like hearing you say that.”
“What? That I’m not going to leech off you?”
“That I’m your husband.”
“Me too. I know I have issues, CJ, but I really do want this to work. I want to be good enough for you.”
“You are more than enough for me, Dani.” I pick up her hand and bring it to my mouth, kissing her knuckles before resting our now-joined palms on my thigh.
“I’m going to do my best.”
“Daniella Bianchi, you don’t need to be anything but who you are.”
“I know.”
“No, you don’t. But you will. One day, you will believe those words.” I’ll make damn sure she does. I don’t know what it’s going to take, but I will do anything to make her believe in us, believe in herself. “When are your parents planning on going home?”
“We were supposed to leave three days ago.”
I don’t miss the fact she said we, not they. “Why didn’t they?”
“Mum said Dad wasn’t finished doing whatever he needed to do here.”
“Right.”
I need to start making arrangements, so that when her parents return to Australia, Daniella and I are on that jet. Even if it’s only for a few weeks to find a house before bringing her back to Vegas.
“I need to find a job,” Daniella says.
“Why? You have a job.”
“I work for Cinque Whiskey,” she says. “In Melbourne. Last I checked, there wasn’t a Cinque here.”
Her family’s whiskey distillery is world renowned. “Maybe it’s time there was a Cinque bar here. I happen to know a few casinos on the Strip that would support the project.”
“That sounds an awful lot like nepotism.” She laughs.
“We both work for our families, Dani. We are both the very result of nepotism.” I chuckle.
“True. I’ll talk to my father and uncles. Maybe I can branch out and do something with Cinque in Vegas.”
It’s on the tip of my tongue to tell her she doesn’t need to work at all. But I know Daniella, and I know that would be a stupid thing to tell her.