36. Nico
Nico
It was nearly dawn when our heads hit the pillow at last. How can she possibly be awake? “Buon Natale,” Matilde says, brightly. “The babies will be waiting.”
“Waiting for what?”
“For us! It’s their first Christmas.”
“They’re infants. They don’t know what day it is.” I check the camera in the nursery on my phone. "See, they're still asleep."
She smacks my arm, fire flashing in her pretty eyes. “Do not be a Grinch! I cooked with Nunzia yesterday, and Ersilia helped, too. We have a breakfast feast and presents to unwrap.” With a playful groan, I drag the pillow over my face. “I will smother you with that pillow if you don’t get up.”
Snaking my arm around her waist, I drag her close. “Smother me with your pussy instead.” She laughs, and I try rolling her to her side. I'd love to spoon her while I fuck her this morning.
But her smile fades. Despite our hallway adventures last night, this marriage was my idea. Maybe I should be thankful she wants to have sex with me at all.
"I've upset you." She starts to shake her head. "Please, don't lie."
I can see her making up her mind about something, so I wait as patiently as I can. "The day before yesterday, Cosima and Vera came over… before Maddalena told me about Giacomo's plan."
"Did she say anything to make you suspect betrayal on her part?"
"No, she said something that hurt to hear. Did you call me your barely legal employee at my birthday party?"
It takes me a moment to even recall speaking to Cosima there; I was so wrapped up in Matilde before the night was done.
Once it does, I bow my head. "Antonio suggested I might marry you, and I dismissed the notion.
I said that because I didn't want the discussion to continue or rumors to start.
I regret saying it that way. Will you pardon me for that? "
She gives me a small smile, sounding relieved. "I will. I still considered you a scary asshole much of the time at that point."
"Are you suggesting I'm not a scary asshole?" I ask, arching an eyebrow in challenge.
She giggles. "Oh, you can be. That is true."
Pretending to be offended, I tickle her sides, making her laugh harder. "Well, you still drive this scary asshole crazy. How do you say Merry Christmas in Sicilian?" I ask once I've stopped tickling her, trying to bring back her genuine smile.
"Bon Natali."
"Hmm, very close."
"Do you want to learn to speak it?"
"Only if you'll teach me."
There. That's the smile I've come to crave.
"Would it help you in business?"
"Probably not, but I can't have Carlo attempting to seduce my wife right under my nose again. It wouldn't go over well if I cut his tongue out."
"Don Vicini did not-"
"I'm teasing, Matilde." Except I would murder him in an instant if he did that… if his wife didn't murder him first. "It's still early. If the children are still asleep-"
“Matilde? Is he up yet?” an unwanted voice calls through the door - Maddalena. "I just went in to check on the twins. They're awake now."
“Fuck,” I grumble under my breath.
“We do that later,” Matilde promises with a pert smile before slipping out of my reach. “Get up and get dressed, Grinch.”
She sashays off before I can retort, not that it would matter. Exhausted or horny, I’m going to do exactly what she wants.
***
"What happened to your ear?" Maddalena asks worriedly when she notes the bandage.
"A little mishap last night. Why don't we settle by the tree?" I suggest, carrying Amadeo while Matilde picks up Lucia.
A gray drizzle outside, twinkling lights inside and the warmth of the fire has me content to remain on the sofa with my family all day.
Our morning meal might seem casual, being consumed by the tree, but Matilde’s breakfast feast is to die for - a traditional Buccellato Siciliano, maple glazed ham, bourbon and peach jam served over brie, and plenty of hot espresso for the adults.
The babies’ eyes are wide and wonder-filled, and the sisters’ joy is infectious. The first Christmas for the former and the first together for the latter. I haven’t felt such a deep, abiding happiness during the holidays, or any other time, in more years than I care to admit.
“This is for you,” Matilde says, passing me a large, brightly wrapped package.
Pulling my knife out, I carefully separate the tape from the giftwrap. Like peeling skin from meat, I take extra care when it comes to unwrapping, a habit Dante always found tedious. But he's not here this morning.
“You have got to be kidding me,” Maddalena huffs. “Just rip it!”
Matilde and her sister giggle over my methods while I take my time, telling my heart to slow down. I didn’t expect a gift. And when the paper is removed and I’ve pried the box open, my heart nearly stops. “Paints and brushes?”
“Yes. A few canvases for you to practice with, too. I thought you might like to try painting again… when you have free time and wish to… relax or…”
Matilde’s explanation trails off as she studies my expression. Her hopeful smile fades when I close the box again.
“Thank you. If I have time to pursue painting again, I’ll be all set.”
Her smile returns when Maddalena sets a present in her lap, but my response disappointed her. It disappoints me, too, but I’m not a boy finding ways to fill long summer days anymore. And the thoughtfulness of her gift spurs too much hope.
I vowed to keep her safe and give her a comfortable life, but yesterday proved safety is no sure thing. Controlling the Trio, making it strong against any threats, inside and out, that's where my focus needs to be. Not on landscapes and daydreams.
"I'll need to go out this evening."
"Out? Your mother has invited us to Christmas dinner."
"I know, and we'll be there, but there's business I'll need to manage later."
Very bloody business. Antonio is my prisoner, but it would be dangerous to allow too much time to pass before I dispose of him. I need to question him before that happens. Unwrapping Matilde's gift won't be all my knife does today.
"Speaking of going out," I add, capturing the girls' attention, "after we're all dressed for the day, I have a present… for both of you."