Arranged Mafia Marriage

Christian

She opens the door, phone in hand, then stills. “Y-you?” She stutters. “What are you doing here?”

“Would you believe that I was in the neighborhood and decided to stop by?” I cringe. Really? Is that the best you can do?

“Well, then you can leave the same way you came.” She begins to shut the door, and I plant my foot in the doorway.

“Wait!” I protest. “Please, I came all this way just to talk to you.”

“I don’t want to talk to you.” She pushes the door into my foot.

I grimace. “Just give me a few minutes of your time, okay?”

“That’s what I asked you, but did you listen? No, you did not; you simply got into your stupid Ferrari and drove away.”

“Hey,” I protest, “hate me if you want, but don’t insult my Ferrari.”

“Really?” She stares. “That’s what you want to say to me?”

“What?” I shake my head, partially to clear it because her scent is driving me crazy, and partially because I really need to get my act together. “No, of course, not. I came to … to…” Shit, why is this so hard? “Can I come inside, please?” I ask.

Her gaze widens; she stares at me with surprise written large on her features.

“I know, I’m being polite and shit.” I rub the back of my neck. “I’m trying, okay?” I peer into her face. “Please, can I come in and talk to you? I promise, I won’t take too much of your time. Unless you’d rather I do this out here, where all of your neighbors will hear…”

She hesitates, then nods.

Thank fuck. If she refused me, would I have pushed my way inside? Well, we’ll never know now, will we?

She spins around and walks inside. I follow her into the living room. She places her phone on the coffee table, then crosses over to stand on the opposite side of the room.

I take in the bookcase, half-filled with books, the sofa, the colorful curtains, the rugs on the floor. It’s a place that feels like home. “It’s nice,” I tell her. “You seem comfortable here.”

“I am,” she tips up her chin, “but you didn’t come here to comment about my taste in interior decorating, did you?”

A-n-d there you are, my little spitfire, my Flower. This is why I can’t stay away from you, because you’re the only one who feels like home to me.

Shit, why did it take me so long to realize the truth? She not only feels like home, she is my home. It’s why I haven’t been able to stay away from her from the moment I laid eyes on her. It’s why I keep returning to her.

After Massimo and Seb had that talk with me, I was pissed off at myself. Enough to leave on my secret mission, while the rest of my brothers took turns watching over my triplet, who is still in an induced coma.

They give me regular updates on his condition, which remains unchanged. They also tell me Theresa refuses to leave his side. As for Nonna, she comes to the hospital and sits with Theresa as often as she can.

I still haven’t completely forgiven my grandmother for the secrets she kept, but if she finds it difficult to face the man whose very existence she kept hidden from us, she’s not showing it.

I haven’t been there to see him. I can’t bring myself to go. Hell, tackling one emotional entanglement in my life at a time is, apparently, all the mind space I have. I’ve handled more than my share of stress within the Mafia business, but tackling something so personal? Yeah, it’s a completely different sensation. I walk over to where she’s standing, and she stiffens. I pause in front of her, then lower myself to my knees.

“What … what are you doing?” she gasps.

“I’m sorry.” I lower my chin to my chest. “I am truly sorry for what I said and did. All of it. From the beginning. I shouldn’t have threatened you to get what I wanted. I shouldn’t have put you in that position. But mostly, I shouldn’t have doubted you. I should have waited and allowed you to explain. I’m sorry I shut you down in front of everyone else. I’m so sorry that I walked away from you. I’ll never forgive myself for that.”

Her chin trembles. “You hurt me so much, Christian,” she says in a low voice. “You broke my heart.”

“And I feel terrible for doing it. As long as I live, I’ll never forgive myself for what I did to you. I deserve your hate. I deserve for you to loathe me, to be angry with me. If you never want to see me again after this, I’ll understand.”

“It’s not like I’m not at fault. I should have come to you; I realize that now. It’s just, I found it difficult to trust you then.”

“And now?”

“Now I’m not sure anymore.” She glances away from me.

“You said you loved me.”

“So did you.”

“I still do.”

“And I… I’m not sure what I feel for you anymore.” She wrings her fingers together, and I see the flash of platinum on her left hand.

“You’re still wearing your wedding ring.”

“Eh?” She holds up the fingers of her left hand, then glances down at mine. “So are you.”

I slide my fingers into my pocket then pull out a ring.

She glances at it, and her gaze widens. “Is that…” She blinks rapidly. “It can’t be; is it-?”

“Your engagement ring.”

“How did you find it?”

“I looked for it.”NôvelDrama.Org (C) content.

“When? How?” She opens and shuts her mouth. “I threw it into the snow.”

“I went back there. After I returned from seeing you at the airport, my brothers gave me grief. They told me how wrong I was to have treated you like that in front of everyone.”

“They did?”

“They also said that if I didn’t go after you, they’d never forgive me.”

“Oh…” She swallows. “Is that why you came, because they asked you to?”

“I came because,” my voice cracks, and I draw in a breath. Why is this so hard? I shake my head to clear it. “I came because I love you and can’t live without you. And I wanted to show you just how much it means to me that you forgive me. So, I went back to the lodge, and I scoured the snow and the grounds-”

“But that’s acres and acres of space.”

“Yeah…” I blow out a breath. “I don’t recommend doing it.”

“Jesus, Christian.” She folds her arms around her waist. “How many days did you-”

“Days and nights.” I twist my lips. “It took me a week to find it.”

“A week?” She lowers her arms to her side. “You were looking for it all this time?”

“I almost gave up.” I chuckle. “At one point, I was cold and wet, and my fingers had almost frozen off, but then I knew that if I came here without it… Without the symbol of what it means to me to be forgiven, without putting in the penance for what I did… I knew, without it, you wouldn’t forgive me.”

She scowls. “You sound very sure of yourself that I’ll take you back now.”

“Won’t you?” I arch an eyebrow. Damn it, and I was doing so well up until now. But the moment she challenged me, that dominant part of me surged to the fore. This groveling thing… Clearly, I need more lessons to get it right. I hold out my palm. “You’re going to forgive me, Aurora; you know you want to.”

She opens her mouth, then nods. “I want to, Christian, but I’m not going to.”

What the fuck? I glare at her. “You’re not going to forgive me?”

“Unless…”

“Unless?”

“Unless you allow me to tie you up.”