Chapter 130

“So!” Giana says, sweeping through the kitchen and snatching an already-open bottle of wine off the counter. She’s still grinning wickedly as she holds it up towards Lucy and I, standing on the other side of the kitchen island. “Do you drink, sister-in-law? Or are you boring as well as slutty?”

My mouth pops open in shock but Lucy covers for me, slipping easily onto a stool at the island and perching her chin neatly in her hands. “Of course she drinks, Gi,” Lucy says with a grin. “She’s married to Cristian, after all.”

Giana bursts into laughter as Bianca moves to the sink, starting to do dishes that probably don’t need to be done right now. Ricky and Bella dash to a snack cabinet and grab some packages of food before darting under the kitchen table to spy and munch away at their stolen booty.

“Does she speak for herself?” Giana asks, pouring more wine into a half-full glass and then taking down two more, starting to fill those as well. “Or are you her spokesperson, Luce?”

“She speaks,” Lucy says, grinning up at me and giving me an encouraging wink. I can’t help but smile at her, grateful. “She’s funny too. And a better chef than you.”

“Hold your tongue,” Giana says, clicking her own and sliding the wine over to us. But she eyes me, wary. “Do you cook Italian food?”

“Not well,” I admit, shrugging. It’s true – I mean, I can boil pasta, but I’ll never be an Italian chef like a girl raised in an Italian home who probably learned how to make gravy at her grandmother’s side.

“Right answer,” Giana quips, smirking at me and settling on her own stool across from me, glancing down at the sleeping baby resting in the crook of her arm. She smiles softly down at the baby, the kindest I’ve seen her be.

“No one told me you had your baby,” I say quietly, leaning forward to peer closer as I take a sip of my wine. “Congratulations, Giana.”

“Thank you,” Giana replies, softening a bit more as she studies the sleeping baby, who she tilts towards me just a bit so I can see her. She’s so tiny but already has a thick patch of black hair. “We named her Caterina.”

I can’t help the little coo of pleasure that crosses my lips as I peer at the baby, because the name is absolutely perfect. I murmur my admirations, which are very real, a little smile on my face.

“I can’t believe Chris didn’t tell you,” Lucy says, frowning over at me. “Or Nico. Or Frankie.”

“They’re boys,” I say, straightening up and giving a shrug. “They never know what’s important.”

“So, is that how you did it?” Giana asks, tilting her head at me, her sneaky smile coming back.

“What?” I ask.

“How you got Cristian to marry you,” she says, lifting her chin at me and dropping her eyes to my stomach. “Did you get knocked up?”

I gasp a little, appalled, as Lucy bursts out laughing.

“No!” I protest, frowning at Giana and then at Lucy. Lucy covers her mouth and shakes her head, apologetic. “No, I’m not pregnant!”

But even as I say it, I remember that…well, that Christian and I did not use protection two nights ago that first time when we finally came together. Or any of the other times we did it that night. I blush suddenly, realizing – stupidly – for the first time that I could be pregnant, even if just barely. Quickly, I start doing the math in my head, trying to remember when my last period was, if I was ovulating…

Giana laughs too, grinning at me, while Bianca starts to wash the dishes louder, banging around the pans.

“Well, with a blush like that,” Giana murmurs, taking a sip of her wine. “I guess you will be soon enough.”

I duck my head, not knowing what to say, a little panicked at the idea. Because…kids. God, I’ve never thought about kids, not really –

But we’re – we’re married now. And Christian comes from a family that definitely celebrates children – does he want them? Do I? Anxious, suddenly needing to have this conversation right now, I glance back towards the door.

“Leave her alone, Gi,” Lucy says with a sigh. “Our Iris is a sweetheart. You don’t need to be a bitch just to be a bitch.”

“Oh, yes I do,” Giana says with a sigh like it’s a great burden, hoisting her baby higher and looking at me evenly as I turn back towards her. “You’re married for real? Like, by a priest, in front of God? None of this courthouse bullshit?”

I blink at her, not really understanding why a courthouse wedding would be bullshit, but I nod.

“Well, then I guess you’re family now, little Iris,” she says, raising her glass towards me. “Welcome. Anytime you want to take your little niece and nephew for a weekend, just let me know.”

I laugh a little, honestly feeling a little better now that she’s said that – because I don’t think Giana would have said it if she didn’t mean it. Giana – she doesn’t seem like someone who says things just because she has to. And if she does, she’ll do it like she did earlier tonight, deadpan, letting you know its under duress.

“I don’t know,” I say, biting my lip and smiling a little at the two little kids who peek at me from beneath the table. My niece and nephew – god, when did that happen? “I don’t think Christian’s house is really…kid friendly.”

“Sure it is,” Giana says, leaning on the counter and smirking at me. “Frankie lives there, doesn’t he?”

I laugh, shaking my head a little. “That’s true. But the rest of the penthouse…” I shake my head, grimacing a little. “It’s kind of…grown up. Not much for them to do.”

“Grown up?” Giana asks, perking up a little. “What, does he have like, one of those crazy sex dungeons or something?”

I burst into laughter, shaking my head as Bianca slams a pot down in the sink and then storms away, leaving the pot in the sink. She wobbles a bit as she goes through a white door to a more private part of the house, clearly seeking to be alone.

“Ignore her,” Giana says, turning and flicking off the water before coming back to the island, rolling her eyes. “Bianca…she’s the delicate type too. Perfect third wife material.”

“What do you mean?” I ask, frowning.

“I mean that these mafia men, they think they want a sassy dragon as a wife, all fire and passion,” she bares her teeth at me, playful, making it perfectly clear that she includes herself in this category, “but by the time they get to their third wife? They just want a pretty, wilting little flower they can boss around.”

She sighs, and looks me up and down, clearly indicating which category she thinks I fall into.

“You sure Christian hasn’t had two wives before you?” she murmurs, eyebrow raised.

I laugh a little, shaking my head, honestly getting used to her and seeing that Giana – she doesn’t really put a lot of effort or thought into what she says. She’s just trying to press buttons, see how far she can get.

“He’d better not have,” I murmur, a bit between my teeth before I take a long sip of my wine.

Giana grins at me, and so does Lucy. “Did you get a prenup?” Giana asks, cheerful.

Lucy spits out some of her wine, laughing. “Gi!” she shouts, standing to reach across the island and smack Giana’s arm. “You can’t just ask that!”

“Yes I can!” Giana replies, laughing and dodging out of Lucy’s reach, always careful of the sleeping baby in her arms even as she plays around. “I’m the future donna of this family, I can ask whatever I want!”

She moves her eyes back to me, eager for an answer.

“When would I have had time to do that?” I ask, frowning.

Giana bursts into a wide grin. “Damn, Iris,” she says, sighing and shaking her head. “You must have Christian all fucking wrapped up in you if you got him to marry you without a prenup. What did they teach you in stripper school, and how fast can you teach it to me?”

“What are you teaching my wife?”

A male voice booms out even as the door opens, another tall man coming into the room, obviously a Romano by the dark hair, the broad shoulders, the confident stride. He glances around the room but moves immediately to Giana, wrapping his arms around her and pressing his mouth hungrily to hers.

I see Giana visibly melt against him for a moment before she laughs and swats at him, making him move away. “Get off of me, Lorenzo,” she says, laughing and beaming up at him. He lets her go, smiling down at her, and I almost take a step back as I see the very real love between the two of them. “We have company!”

“Company,” Lorenzo murmurs, frowning, and then he turns his head to look at me. “Well, then,” he says, his eyes moving slowly down over me as he smirks. “Who the hell are you?”