CHAPTER THIRTEEN
R occo lifted me out of the helicopter and placed me down on the ground. We arrived at the Marini Holdings headquarters building in Midtown Manhattan. “How was your ride this time?”
“It was okay,” I said and chewed on my bottom lip. My fear of falling wasn’t as severe on my second helicopter ride because I knew what to expect. But for most of it, I’d been distracted by Gunnar riding in the seat next to the pilot. Was it wrong that I wanted him to disappear? He stayed far too long into our argument.
I glimpsed him chatting with Isla, who was waiting near the helipad when we arrived.
“What’s up with Gunnar?” I asked Rocco, frowning.
“What about him?”
“He wouldn’t leave the car. I mean, we had no privacy.”
Rocco sighed. “Yeah, I know. He’s my personal lawyer and friend. I trust him explicitly. There’s nothing he doesn’t know, and the more he does, the more he keeps us all safe.”
I understood, but it still made me uncomfortable that he saw me practically in tears, confessing my feelings—something I rarely do, if I’m honest—and that Rocco didn’t seem to mind. “The more he knows keeps us all safe.” Is that how I should look at his presence? That it was simply out of deference to his friendship and role with Rocco? Another learning curve?
I still remember Cassidy once saying that the best lawyers know everything and say nothing. Gunnar didn’t suggest that he outright urged Rocco not to marry me, which I should see as a good thing. He was protecting his friend. Maybe he wasn’t stirring the pot but preparing me for Rocco and his family, as he clearly knew them better than me.
I want to be there for Rocco as well. Which meant that I needed to be strong. That was something Luca often suggested was my strength—handling the difficult times in my life. My heart twinged, thinking about how much I would miss my loudest champion—apart from Cass. My dear Luca.
Rocco squeezed my shoulder. “You all right?”
I nodded. “Just thinking about Luca.”
He kissed the top of my head. “Me too.” He took my hand, and we walked over to where they stood.
Isla went stiff and flicked her eyes at Rocco, who gave her an icy stare. From what I knew of Rocco, he didn’t seem to hold grudges, but he was still mad at Isla? There had to be more that happened at Cannes with Marjorie after the panel. I hoped to ask her about it.
“We’ll meet you out front in a few minutes,” she announced.
Rocco gave her a curt nod, then kissed my cheek. “See you soon.”
He left with Gunnar, placing his arm on his back, and they chatted together as they walked. Gunnar stopped and turned back to us. His eyes fixed on…Isla?
I glanced at her, and to my surprise, she blushed. Something was definitely up, and I wanted to know. Gunnar’s nosy and so am I.
I looked at Rocco, and his eyes were on me. Butterflies fluttered in my stomach, and I couldn’t help but smile.
His grin broadened, and he gave me a wave before they entered the elevator.
“I’ve never seen him like that.” Isla placed her hand on her hip.
“Gunnar?” I asked.
Her brows knitted. “No, not him. I meant Rocco.”
“Oh, what do you mean?”
“He’s grieving the loss of his grandfather, and he’s also been burdened with so much considering what his father should be doing for the funeral and the Marini business. And yet, he seems…at ease. I wouldn’t say happy, because he’s grieving, but there’s joy in him.” That was a strange observation, because to most of the world, he’s seen as the life of the party.
I cocked my head. “Before I met Rocco, I always thought of him as upbeat and happy, so that surprises me.”
She shook her head. “I’ve worked with him for five years, and yes, he always put on a lively persona in public, but in private, he’s quiet. Mostly alone and…sad.”
A pang went through my chest, thinking about Rocco alone. Mr. Marini had said as much, but after getting to know Rocco more and experiencing the warmth and joy he poured into me, I wanted him to never be lonely.
“Oh, and I should have already said this, but congratulations, Mrs. Marini,” she said.
Mrs. Marini. Strange how much I like that.
I grinned, my stomach fluttering, hearing my new name and title. “Thank you.”
We took the stairs together, and I went to the restroom. “Rocco texted me that you may need to replace…something.” Isla handed me a small bag, and I loved that she was being discreet about my underwear. It surprised me how calm I was about it. This weird life’s changing me.
I quickly went into a stall and put on the new pair. After, I came out and washed my hands at the sink. Isla was there and took out a styling kit.
She picked a brush to retouch my make-up but avoided direct eye contact. “Cameras will be around us. It’s best to prepare…Rocco said you’re the reason I still have a job. Thank you. I’m sorry about what happened at the party—”
“Don’t be. It wasn’t your fault Marjorie delayed Rocco and Janus flirted with me.” I put on lip gloss and placed it in the new handbag. “This is lovely. Thank you so much for everything.”
I was about to leave when she lightly touched my arm.
“I…I am, or actually, I was friends with Marjorie,” she said candidly. “She asked me to let her clear the air and solidify her friendship with Rocco, and I gave her a window.But I didn’t know she would delay him for so long after the panel interview in Cannes. Rocco was late because of me. I’m sorry.”
My stomach soured. It was good that Isla was honest, but it hurt me that she did that to us. Marjorie was still a sore spot for me because he chose her instead of being arranged to be with her. And to think, Isla set me and Rocco up to fail, giving Marjorie a chance to try to rekindle their relationship. It thankfully hadn’t worked, but it made me see her in a new light.
She finally made direct eye contact with me. “I’m very sorry I hurt you and Rocco. And that’s why I’ve agreed to stay and train my replacement. It’s important to have someone you can trust—”
“Yes, it is important,” I said, my tone abrupt. “However, one mistake shouldn’t end a career.” I took a deep breath, hoping that offering her an olive branch wouldn’t end in more disappointment and miscommunication. “I would prefer you stay on, and we move forward, but I believe this should be Rocco’s decision.”
She beamed. “Thank you, Adelina. I’ll talk to Rocco. But I promise I won’t let you and Rocco down again.”
I smiled back, hoping she was someone who kept her promises.
Rain beat against the window as we all rode inside a Mercedes SUV to Saint Patrick’s Cathedral for Mr. Marini’s funeral Mass, though it was planned to be more of a funeral service. On approach to the avenue close to the cathedral, we could see that a barrier blocked a lane. A police officer approached, and two men moved the block to let us drive to the front entrance.
I stared out in shock at the police cars and orange and white striped barricade and what appeared to be tons of photographers and even a TV camera set up to record us. It was a reminder that my new life with Rocco would be different from the one I had. I was now the wife of a man that would lead one of the wealthiest and most powerful families in the world. Not only that, but his star power was also increasing. That alone meant this would be our normal and I was grateful Isla helped me prepare.
Still, when Zane opened the door, camera shutters flashed, exploding light that temporarily blinded me as raindrops fell on my face, blurring my vision. I felt Rocco’s hand in mine as I adjusted my stance in my heels. He left a gap, showing my left hand with the new ring, a symbol of our commitment in the midst of this tragedy. His way of announcing without it being formal.
We moved in a group of him, Isla, and Gunnar between the barriers up the sidewalk to the entrance of the Gothic building. Once inside, we found his parents and the Cardinal waiting to escort us in a procession. Rocco quickly hugged his mother, who sent a piercing stare my way. She glowered at me and Rocco. “Why are you so late?”
Rocco jutted his chin. “We’re here now. Let’s proceed.”
She sent me another glare before adjusting the veil over her eyes and straightening the crepe-black dress she had on. She took out a handkerchief and held it to her hand as we all lined up with his sister and brother, Salvatore, and Sienna, behind us. We proceeded down the aisle behind the Cardinal, and he read a prayer.
The sight of the casket at the front of the aisle, surrounded by a sea of mourners, was a stark reminder of the significance of the occasion. Was this the measure of a life well-lived? The multitude of people, united in grief, to bid farewell to a beloved soul?
We all took a moment and bent on the bench before the casket to pray, and as the weight of the moment hit me, I couldn’t hold back a sob. I’ll never hear his voice again. Rocco, sensing my pain, placed his hand on my shoulder in comfort, and even though I should be helping him through his grief, his loss, his understanding and support were a balm to my aching heart.
It was hard to imagine I’d never hear from Luca Marini again. I delighted in his reminiscences and visions of the world and imbibing his most measured advice. On my loneliest days, he was there. When I needed a friend or a confidant, he never failed me. So, my prayer was a wish from my heart to his that his memory would always bring me comfort. As I prayed, I felt a mix of sorrow, gratitude, and a profound sense of loss.
I also realized I hadn’t allowed myself to imagine him at the wedding or holding my child. But right then, I did. I only had him for so short a time and felt such immense loss, so my heart broke for Rocco, his parents, his siblings— all the extensive Marini family— as they had had him for so much longer. As much as I felt it was so unfair to lose someone so dear to my heart, their grief must be crippling.
I stood and waited for Rocco as he gave his prayer. When he was done, he rose, and our eyes met—his cloudy. It was all of our time to say goodbye.
We were escorted to sit as his Uncle Walter went to the front and read his lengthy eulogy, which included the extensive list of family members Mr. Marini had left behind and his accolades. Mr. Marini had many. He finished high school at thirteen and college at sixteen. He was an intelligent, driven businessman who rebuilt the Marini shipping company into an empire that provided work and resources to thousands of people worldwide. In his personal life, he’d been a lover of books and poetry, which I’d known him for. He also gave back to the community. It took over a minute for his uncle to go through the list of his philanthropy outreach. It was extensive, and he lived well and was loved. As the eulogy unfolded, I found myself nodding in agreement, my heart heavy with the weight of his loss. That was the Luca Marini I knew. That was the Luca Marini I would remember.
A choir filled the tiered platform at the front. They started to sing, and I immediately recognized the song as the opera Mr. Marini had sung on that faithful night at the beach, Francesco Sartori’s song, Con Te Partirò , which meant Time to Say Goodbye.
Tears slid down my chin. Had he known he was dying the whole time?
Rocco trembled next to me. I took his hand simultaneously as his mother had his other. I clasped it, then leaned close to him and whispered, “I’m sorry.” I felt his pain and the sorrow of his loss. On that day in his home, it was clear Mr. Marini chose him out of all ten grandchildren as his successor because he absolutely adored Rocco. Their bond was not just of blood but of a deep emotional connection. Not that he didn’t love them all; there was something special they shared. And I realized they were alike in some ways. Rocco had inherited his elders’ warmth and kindness. It was what had reached into my heart.
He lifted my hand to his lips and kissed the back of it, and my soul grew heavy.
A gasp erupted on his other side. It was from his mother, and my eyes went to her as she saw the wedding ring. As Gunnar warned me, Rocco hadn’t told them he would marry me today. She pressed a handkerchief to her lips but didn’t say a word, the tension on the bench palpable.
I looked up at Rocco who hadn’t moved a muscle. However, I knew that this conversation wasn’t over, and the anticipation of what was to come hung in the air.
We rose again to receive the sacrament and went to the front for a final goodbye and blessing. I reached out and touched the casket. Goodbye, my dear friend. You were the father I needed, and no matter what is uncovered, that will never change. I’m eternally grateful to have known you. I love you.
A stream of people lined the hall to say their goodbyes. Rocco took my hand and let us stand to the side.
“Adelina.”
I turned to find Nadia and Paul. She hugged me tight and kissed my cheeks. “How are you doing?” she asked, rubbing my arms.
My throat closed, and my eyes watered.
She hugged me again. “I wish we had more time to talk, but we will soon. Did Rocco mention us meeting up in London?”
“London?” I repeated questioningly.
She smiled. “You’ll hear about it.”
Paul leaned over and kissed my cheek. “I’m sorry for your loss.”
He seemed to understand that Mr. Marini also meant something special to me. Rocco must’ve shared it with them. He hugged Rocco tight, and it warmed my heart to see he had support.
Nadia kissed him and hugged him. Then, my grandparents came forward, all smiles this time. They shook Olivia and Nico’s hands politely but didn’t speak.
Grandmother touched my hair and took my hand. “We’ll see you again soon?” Her voice rose an octave, and it was the first time she had expressed a desire to see me. We had indeed reached a new plateau.
“I’d love that,” I said to her.
She smiled at me.
“Grandfather,” I said to Mr. Belfiore. His eyes widened in shock, but he quickly recovered and squeezed my hands. “We’ll be in touch.” They walked away and I could see a little tension between them. She had outsmarted his plan and my grandfather knew it and had to deal with it. I loved seeing him not getting his way for a change.
A tall, Nordic-looking blonde male in a dark suit stepped forward. He stopped to offer his condolences to the family, but then Rocco touched my back. “I’m going to have to meet with my parents right now. We’ll all meet at Marini Corporate to go over the will.”
I tensed. “The will? Already?”
Rocco nodded and exhaled long. “Yes. This is your lawyer, Ian Unger.”
I shook his hand, though confused. “Lawyer? What do I need a lawyer for?”
“I’ll explain in the car. You look like you could use a coffee?” Ian said, his tone casual. Friendly.
I lowered my brow. “Uhm.” I turned back to Rocco and stared at him questioningly.
He leaned over my ear. “It turns me on that you look to me for assurance. That means you trust me. That’s what I want, Bella.” He kissed near my ear. “I need to speak with my family about our wedding privately first. We’ll all meet in the boardroom soon. All right?”
I nodded. It wasn’t an easy conversation to have and, from his mother’s shock, it wasn’t going to be good for either of us, knowing his mother had specifically asked us to wait. Still, this funeral was hard for Rocco and I knew he’d do whatever he could for everyone there, but he also needed someone there to support him. “Are you sure you want to go alone? I’ve got thick skin, I can handle whatever comes.”
He gave me a broad smile that warmed my insides. “I’m sure you do, but I don’t want you to have to use it. Go ahead. You’ll be fine.” He pecked me on the lips.
I turned to Ian. “I guess we’re going together.”
Ian beamed at me. “That’s the plan. Let’s get you out of here first.” He placed his hand on my back and led me through the side of the hall. A security guard disengaged the alarm and opened the door with a radio signal.
Zane was outside and led us quickly down the avenue, where he was double-parked with security around a Mercedes. We climbed inside, and the door quickly closed. The car started, and we joined the crowd of people trying to leave the funeral. It was packed.
I looked across at Ian, and he grinned. “It’s nice to finally meet you, Adelina. I’ve heard such good things about you from Rocco and the Cranes.”
I smiled. “Uh, Thanks. I haven’t heard anything about you.”
He nodded. “People rarely talk about lawyers until they need them.”
My stomach squelched. Lawyers most of the time means bad, but I wasn’t a Marini. “Why do I need one?”
“Because the Marinis are reading the will this evening, and Rocco wanted to make sure you had your own representation just in case something came up, like a change to the will.”
I frowned. “You think Luca changed it?”
He lifted his shoulders. “I think it’s important enough to prepare for anything when it involves billions. It’s always money and power with wealthy families. Rocco wanted to make sure you were supported.”
His words put me somewhat at ease, but I still had worries. “What’s the worst scenario?”
“There’s a new will, and it changes something significant. If so, it would be challenged by the family.”
I voiced my concern to Ian. “If whatever changes hurts Rocco, and I have a say, I won’t do it.”
His lips formed a broad smile. “How sweet, but let’s be real. You have to think about your family. Refusing whatever is there that cuts you or your family out will leave you vulnerable. The fact I was called makes me believe there is something, so we’ll see. Bottom line, if it’s tough for you, I’m tougher. If it goes sideways and his family gets angry and says mean things, stay strong and quiet. You’ll get through this.”
I glanced out the window, and we’d only reached 59th Street. I didn’t want to talk any more about Luca’s will. It seemed wrong that I was involved at all. However, I was now a Marini. What would it mean for Rocco and me as a married couple? Luca had told me I needed to be strong, but what had he done that I’d need strength to handle?