Chapter Seventeen #2
"I know," she said, her voice dripping with ice. "My father was very clear about my duties."
"To hell with your father," Marco snapped, the sudden venom in his voice startling her.
He took a step closer, his dark eyes burning with a terrifying devotion. "I don't care about the treaties. I don't care about the shipping routes, the borders, or the blood pacts. I brought you here to tell you that the alliance does not dictate my heart, and it does not dictate your life."
Raisa blinked, caught off guard. "What are you talking about?"
"If you do not want this," Marco swore, his voice dropping into a raw, desperate register, "if you do not want me... you say the word, and I will drive back to Naples tonight and burn the treaty on my father’s desk.
I will take the fallout. I will go to war with the Bratva.
I will not take you as a hostage to a political arrangement, Raisa.
I want you by your own choice, or I don't want you at all. "
He held the ring closer to her, offering his soul bare to the wind.
"I love you," Marco stated, the words absolute and unyielding. "I love the way you fight. I love the way you look at me like I am a burden. I want to spend the rest of my life trying to keep up with you. Marry me. Because you want to. Or tell me no, and you are free to walk away."
Raisa stood paralyzed on the edge of the cliff.
She had been prepared for a transactional demand. She had been prepared to spend the rest of her life fighting a husband who viewed her as a political acquisition. She had not been prepared for Marco Falco to hand her a loaded gun, offer his heart, and give her the freedom to pull the trigger.
The cold, defensive walls she had built around her heart violently collapsed.
"You are an idiot," Raisa whispered, her voice cracking as a single, furious tear slipped down her cheek. "You would start a war with the Russians over a refusal?"
"I would burn the continent," Marco confirmed without a shadow of hesitation.
Raisa let out a sound that was half-laugh, half-sob. She reached out, grabbing the lapels of his coat, and pulled him fiercely downward, crushing her mouth against his.
It was an explosive, desperate collision of heat and relief. Marco let out a ragged breath, wrapping his arms around her waist, lifting her slightly off the gravel as she kissed him with a terrifying, consuming passion.
When she finally pulled back, resting her forehead against his, she glared at him.
"You are ruining my reputation," she complained, her voice thick with emotion, swiping the tear from her cheek. "I am supposed to be ruthless. I am deeply annoyed by how romantic you are."
"I apologize for my flaws," Marco grinned, his heart soaring in his chest. "Is that a yes?"
Raisa snatched the velvet box from his hand, snapping it shut. "Yes, you insufferable Italian. I will marry you. But if you tell my father you offered to burn his treaty, I will kill you myself."
"Deal," Marco laughed, pulling her back into his arms as the sun finally vanished beneath the sea.
***
The announcement was made the following evening at the Falco estate, during a sprawling, chaotic family dinner.
The moment Marco laid his hand over Raisa’s on the mahogany table, the dark platinum diamond catching the light of the chandelier, the dining room erupted.
Ana Falco let out a shriek of pure, unadulterated ecstasy, launching herself out of her chair to throw her arms around Raisa’s neck. "A double wedding! Valentina, we have a double wedding!"
Valentina sat at the head of the table, her dark eyes glittering with satisfaction as she tapped her cane against the floor. "Excellent work, Marco. You have secured a true asset for this family. We shall require a larger cathedral."
Across the table, Roselia smiled brightly, feeling a deep, radiating joy. She stood up, walking around the chairs to embrace the Russian woman.
"Welcome to the madness," Roselia murmured, hugging her tightly. "I am ecstatic to finally have a sister who knows how to properly hide a body."
Raisa hugged her back, a genuine, warm smile breaking across her porcelain features. "We will need the skills. These men require constant supervision."
At the opposite end of the room, Renzo and Marco leaned against the ornate fireplace, nursing glasses of bourbon as they watched their women dominate the center of the room.
"Well," Renzo mused, taking a slow sip of the amber liquid. He looked at Roselia, his eyes softening with an unwavering devotion. "It appears our days of executive decision-making are over, brother. For the rest of our natural lives, we are going to be outmaneuvered, outflanked, and outvoted."
Marco watched Raisa laughing with his mother, feeling a bone-deep sense of peace settle over his soul. "I am deeply annoyed by it," he admitted smoothly. "But I wouldn't trade it for the world."
Renzo chuckled, clinking his crystal glass against Marco’s. "To our beautiful, terrifying wardens."
"To the wardens," Marco agreed, taking a drink.
From his seat at the table, Enzo watched the sickening display of domestic tranquility with visceral disgust. He stabbed a piece of roasted potatoes with his fork, glaring at his two older brothers.
"You are both pathetic," Enzo declared loudly, making sure his voice carried over the joyful chaos of the women. "You look like two lobotomized bears in a zoo. This entire estate has been infected by a plague of sappiness."
Renzo and Marco simply turned their heads, offering identical, pitying smirks to their youngest brother.
"You will fall eventually, Enzo," Renzo promised smoothly, taking another sip of his bourbon.
"Never," Enzo swore, raising his wine glass in a fierce, defiant toast to himself. "I will never allow myself to be shackled by a woman. I am the last bastion of freedom in the Falco bloodline. I will die a bachelor."
Bruno, who had been sleeping under the table, let out a loud, groaning snore, as if dismissing the youngest Falco’s vow.
Roselia laughed, leaning against Renzo’s side as he wrapped a possessive arm around her waist, pulling her flush against his chest. The room was loud, chaotic, and brimming with the dangerous, beautiful fire of a family that had survived the dark and finally found the light.
And as Enzo continued his dramatic monologue about the virtues of an unshackled life, the Don and his brother simply held the women they loved, perfectly at peace in the beautiful cages they had chosen for themselves.