Chapter 10
CHAPTER TEN
vittoria
The car pulls up to the Mariano mansion, and anxiety twists my stomach into knots. After spending nearly a week in the hospital, I'm finally being released. But the thought of facing Cesare's children fills me with dread.
What if they're back to hating me? What if their brief moment of concern was just pity?
Cesare must sense my unease because he reaches over and takes my hand, giving it a gentle squeeze. "It'll be alright," he says softly. "They know what happened. Things will be different now."
I nod, not trusting myself to speak. As the driver opens my door, Cesare comes around to help me out, his hand steady on my elbow. My injuries are healing, but I'm still sore as fuck and moving like an old woman.
As we approach the front door, it swings open to reveal Lorenzo. His usual stoic expression is replaced by something I've never seen before: concern.
Well, that's new. Usually he's glaring at me like I'm something he stepped in.
"Welcome home, Vittoria," he says, his voice uncharacteristically gentle. "How are you feeling?"
"I'm... okay," I reply hesitantly, thrown off by his demeanor. "Thank you for asking."
Lorenzo nods, stepping aside to let us enter. As we make our way into the foyer, I see the rest of Cesare's children gathered there. The atmosphere is tense and awkward as fuck.
Valentina, usually so hostile toward me, steps forward first. "I'm glad you're home," she says, not quite meeting my eyes. "And... I'm sorry. For how I've treated you."
I blink in surprise, unsure of how to respond. Before I can formulate a reply, Giovanni speaks up.
"We all are," he says, looking genuinely remorseful. "We didn't know what you'd been through. We should have been kinder."
The other children nod, murmuring their own apologies. I feel overwhelmed by their sudden change in attitude, tears pricking at my eyes.
Christ, I'm more emotional than I thought.
"Thank you," I manage, voice thick with emotion. "That means a lot to me."
Cesare's hand on my lower back is warm and reassuring. "Why don't we let Vittoria get settled?" he suggests. "She needs to rest."
The children nod, dispersing quietly. As Cesare leads me upstairs to our bedroom, I can't help but feel both relief and wariness. Their change in behavior is welcome, but part of me wonders how long it'll last.
Once we're alone in our room, Cesare helps me sit on the edge of the bed. "How are you really feeling?" he asks, eyes searching my face.
I take a deep breath, wincing slightly at lingering pain in my ribs. "Overwhelmed," I admit. "I didn't expect... that."
Cesare nods, sitting beside me. "I spoke with them while you were in the hospital," he explains. "They know what happened, and they understand now. But they also know I won't tolerate any more disrespect toward you, Tori."
I absorb his words, feeling grateful yet uncertain. I'm not sure how long his children will stay nice, and I totally understand their hesitancy. "Thank you," I say softly. "For speaking to them. And for everything else."
Cesare reaches out, gently taking my hand. "You don't need to thank me, Tori. You're my wife. Protecting you, ensuring your wellbeing, that's my responsibility now."
I look down at our joined hands, struck by how natural it feels. When did that happen? When did Cesare's touch start bringing comfort rather than anxiety?
"I know this isn't how either of us imagined our marriage would be," I say hesitantly. "But I... I'm grateful. For how you've treated me, especially these past few days."
Cesare is quiet for a moment, thumb tracing circles on my hand. When he speaks, his voice is low and intense. "Things have changed, Tori. I care for you in a way I didn't expect. And I promise, as long as you're my wife, you'll never have to fear being hurt again."
His words send warmth spreading through my chest. I look up, meeting his gaze. The intensity I see there takes my breath away. Without thinking, I lean in, pressing my lips to his in a soft, tentative kiss.
Cesare responds immediately, one hand cupping my cheek as he deepens the kiss. It's different from our previous kisses. This one isn't hot and heavy or chaste like our wedding day. It's something new altogether.
Something that feels... real.
When we finally pull apart, both slightly breathless, I look into my husband's eyes and I'm shocked by the emotion shining in them.
"You should rest," he says softly, hand still on my cheek. "It's been a long day."
I nod, suddenly feeling the weight of exhaustion. As Cesare helps me lie down, adjusting pillows to make me comfortable, I feel peace I haven't experienced in a long time.
"Stay with me?" I ask, surprising myself with the request.
Cesare nods, settling into the chair beside the bed. "Of course. I'll be right here."
As I drift off to sleep, I can't help but wonder at how much has changed. The fear and uncertainty that have been my constant companions for so long seem to have lessened, replaced by cautious hope.
For the first time since our wedding, I feel like maybe, just maybe, this marriage could be more than just an arrangement.
Maybe, with Cesare by my side, I could find not just safety, but happiness too.
As I sit in bed, bored but grateful to be alive, I hear a soft knock at the door. "Come in," I call out, curious to see who it is.
Cesare said he had work to attend to this morning, that he and Lorenzo would be gone, and he'd be bringing both Ciro and Giovanni with him.
The door opens to reveal Sofia and Valentina, Cesare's youngest daughters. They hover uncertainly in the doorway, looking uncharacteristically nervous.
"Can we come in?" Sofia asks hesitantly.
I nod, gesturing for them to enter. "Of course. Please, sit."
The girls make their way into the room, perching awkwardly on the edge of the bed. There's tense silence before Valentina speaks up.
"We wanted to see how you were doing," she says, voice softer than I've ever heard it. "And... to apologize again. For how we've treated you."
I'm taken aback by the sincerity in her tone. "Thank you," I say carefully. "I appreciate that."
Sofia fidgets with the hem of her shirt. "We didn't know... about your father," she says quietly. "If we had—"
"It's okay," I interrupt gently. "You couldn't have known. I didn't want anyone to know."
Valentina looks up at me, eyes shining with unshed tears. "But we should have been kinder. We were so angry about you replacing our mom, we didn't even try to get to know you."
Her words hit hard. I've been so focused on my own pain and fears, I hadn't fully considered how difficult this situation must be for them.
"I understand," I say softly. "Losing your mother must have been incredibly hard. And then having a stranger come into your home... I can't imagine how that felt."
Sofia nods, wiping at her eyes. "We miss her so much," she admits. "And when Dad married you, it felt like... like he was trying to erase her."
I reach out, tentatively taking Sofia's hand. To my surprise, she doesn't pull away. "I'm not here to replace your mother," I say firmly. "I could never do that, and I wouldn't want to. Your mother will always be part of your family."
Valentina looks at me curiously. "Then why are you here? I mean, we know it was arranged, but..."
I take a deep breath, considering how to answer. "At first, it was just about the arrangement," I admit. "But now... I care about your father. And I'd like to care about all of you too, if you'll let me."
The girls exchange a look, seeming to have a silent conversation. Finally, Sofia turns back to me. "We'd like that," she says softly. "To try, at least."
Relief washes over me. "I'd like that too," I say, smiling at them both.
"How are you feeling?" Sofia asks, glancing at my injuries.
"Better," I say, shifting to find a more comfortable position. "Still sore, but healing. The doctors say I should be back to normal in a few weeks."
Valentina nods, eyes lingering on the fading bruises on my neck. "Does it hurt a lot?" she asks hesitantly.
I consider my answer carefully. "It did at first," I admit. "But it's getting better every day. The physical pain is manageable. It's the emotional healing that takes longer."
Sofia reaches out, gently placing her hand on mine. "We're here for you," she says softly. "If you ever want to talk... or just need company."
Her kindness brings tears to my eyes. "Thank you," I whisper, squeezing her hand. "That means more than you know."
After they leave, I feel lighter, more hopeful. Maybe we can build some sort of relationship. The last thing I want is for them to think I'm trying to replace their mother. That's not something I'd ever do. But I don't want us at odds all the time either.
I'm just about to fall asleep, when my phone buzzes. Glancing at the screen, I see it's Mam on a video call. I haven't spoken to her since our lunch.
"Mam," I breathe as I answer.
"Oh, my darling girl," my mother's voice comes through, filled with concern. "How are you feeling? I've been so worried."
I can see worry etched on her face through the screen. It's clear she knows what happened.
"I'm doing better, Mam," I assure her, trying to sound stronger than I feel. "Still sore, but healing. Are you back in Belfast?"
She shakes her head. "No. Your brothers are back, and they've had your father... dealt with. But I'm still here in Boston. Your husband needed you to recover without stress, that’s why I haven’t stopped by."
My eyebrows nearly hit my hairline. I hadn't expected that. "You are?" I whisper. "Why?"
My mother's eyes soften. "Because you need me, love. I'm not leaving you alone after what happened."
Tears well up in my eyes. "Oh, Mam," I whisper. "Thank you. But what about Father?"
She shakes her head firmly. "Your brothers are handling things back home. My place is here with you right now. How are you really doing, sweetheart? And don't try to put on a brave face for me."