Chapter 131

“Daddy!” Ricky shouts, dashing out from beneath the kitchen table and darting for his dad, who immediately picks him up and wraps him in a big hug. Bella follows, jumping with her arms up, clearly begging to be picked up too. Lorenzo laughs, dipping down and scooping her up in his other arm.

I watch with surprise as Lorenzo takes a moment to laugh and banter with his children because…

Well, because he – like Tony – looks so fucking much like Christian that…that it’s kind of hard not to see Christian standing there with his arms around two little kids, laughing with them, kissing their cheeks, asking about their days…

My eyes move between Ricky and Bella, who also heavily favor the Romano genetics, though Bella’s face is softened by her mother’s beauty. Still, that dark hair, that flawless tanned skin and beautiful straight noses –

Is that…is that what our kids would look like?

My hand tightens on my wine glass as I just…stare at them, and at the beautiful sleeping baby in Giana’s arms. These three children who would one day be my children’s…cousins…

God, all of a sudden I just feel very married. And very real.

“This!” Giana says, putting a hand on Lorenzo’s arm and bringing him back to the moment. “Is your new sister-in-law!” Lorenzo lowers the kids to the ground and returns to the conversation, looking between Giana and me.

“Sister-in-law,” Lorenzo repeats, looking at me carefully, a frown on his mouth, clearly not getting it. His eyes dart between Lucy and I, positioned so close together. “What…” he says slowly, “is…is Tony doing some sort of freaky blonde-brunette sister-wife thing?”

Giana and Lucy burst out laughing and, tentative, I laugh with them a moment later.

“No!” Giana says after a moment, grinning and shaking her head, clearly enjoying herself. “This is Iris. She married the middle child.”

Lorenzo’s face falls in shock. “No way,” he says, a little breathless as he leans forward to stare at me, “you bagged Cristian!?”

Gleeful, Giana and Lucy laugh again as I shrug and smile, not knowing what else to do.

“No wayyyy,” Lorenzo said, shaking his head and still staring at me as he straightens up. “I mean, I figured he was always going to be a bachelor. Fuck what Bianca said about him marrying Violetta – that was never going to happen - he’s been mooning over some girl from the suburbs since he was like thirteen. But, I mean, how did you do it? Are you pregnant?”

I blush again, my shoulders slumping that that’s everyone’s first assumption. Lucy and Giana burst out laughing and Lorenzo looks between them, wondering what’s so funny. After a second I laugh too because…well, what else is there to do?

“No, Lor,” Lucy says when she catches her breath, wiping a little tear of mirth from beneath her eye. “Iris is the girl from the suburbs. He found her again in a strip club and he’s been hiding her away in the penthouse for months.”

“No way,” Lorenzo gasps, a little delighted, looking at me like I’m a creature from a fairytale that he’s long heard about but never actually thought existed. “That’s amazing!”

To my shock, Lorenzo comes around the kitchen island and heads right for me, wrapping me in a big overpowering hug that almost makes me spill my wine. “Oh!” I say, surprised, stumbling back a step. Lorenzo catches me though, holding me tight to his chest.

“Amazing,” he murmurs, shaking his head and staring down at me in awe before planting a big kiss on my cheek. “God, wait, what’s your name? I thought his girl was called Daisy. We used to tease the shit out of him for that.”

“It’s Iris,” I say, smiling a little awkwardly as he lets me go and takes a step back. “Daisy is…a nickname.”

“God damn it,” he murmurs, shaking his head at me. “I can’t believe you’re real. Well, welcome to the family!” He gives me a big grin.

I thank him, smiling back, wondering why the hell Lorenzo – of everyone – is being so welcoming to me. And why he seems to know much, much less about my recent role in this family than even Giana does.

But there’s no time to ask, or delicately enquire, because a young woman in a crisp white chef’s coat sticks her head into the room. “I’m so sorry to interrupt, but the dinner is laid, if you’re ready.” She gives us a hesitant smile and then ducks back out.

Lucy stands up and Giana gestures for our wine glasses, which we give her and she puts into the sink. Then, everyone starts to move eagerly for the door, Lorenzo bending down to whisper in Bella’s ear to go fetch her Nonna.

As they move, though, I frown around, a little confused. “Wait,” I say, stepping close to Lucy and heading for the door too, looking back at the cold stove, the completely clear counters. “How can there be…dinner…when no one’s in the kitchen?”

“Bianca caters,” Lucy whispers, grinning at me and wrinkling her nose. “She only cooks on big occasions now. Hates the mess.”

“Oh,” I say, kind of surprised. I mean, I thought the kitchen was a traditional Italian woman’s domain.

“I know,” Lucy whispers, playfully bumping her shoulder into mine. “It’s a huge fight between her and Antonio. You’ll get to see the latest installment of it tonight – he brings it up at every meal.”

“Damn,” I murmur, kind of impressed at that level of persistence.

We all move down the hall as a group and my stomach roils a little because it all seemed to be going better in the kitchen. But at dinner, with Romano himself?

I have no idea how this is going to go.

There’s not much time to think about it though as we step through a swinging door into a huge, bright dining room. I stutter in my steps a little when I see that it’s already kind of filled with people. At one end of the room three people in white chef’s coats carefully prepare the first course, plating it and looking anxiously at us, clearly wanting us to sit so that they can serve it while it’s still hot.

I hasten my steps, eager to be helpful to them, and look back towards the end of the table where several men in black suits stand.

And I can’t help the grin that fastens on my face the moment my eyes land on Christian, or the way that my pace quickens as I move to his side.

He growls a little with pleasure when I get there, slipping an arm around me and pulling me tight against him in a way that makes my stomach tighten with joy, with anticipation. “How did it go?” he murmurs, staring down at me.

I laugh a little, glancing around, noting that Nico has left Christian’s side, giving us a moment alone. He moves to stand with Romano and Tony, who pass him a glass of wine. Romano’s eyes are already on me, cold and assessing.

“Oh, it was fine,” I say, my voice a bit tight as I look back at my husband. “Lorenzo likes me, I think.”

Christian bursts into a surprised smile, looking over at his eldest brother as people begin to take their seats around the large table. “Lorenzo, eh?”

“Yeah,” I say, laughing a bit and keeping my voice low. “He called me Daisy. I guess my reputation precedes me?”

Christian laughs for real at this, shaking his head and glancing at his big brother. “I made the mistake,” he murmurs, pulling out my chair and tucking it in beneath me as I sit. “Of mentioning, once, a pretty girl I grew up with. They never let me live it down.”

I click my tongue once, kind of loving it, reaching out to put a hand on his arm as he takes his seat next to me. “That is too sweet.”

“At least I lived up to it,” he says, taking a moment to look at me quite softly with a great deal of love in his eyes. “If I’d married someone else, they’d probably have called her Daisy her whole life as a joke and never explained it.”

“That is so mean,” I murmur, my face dropping into a frown, kind of hating the idea that they’d be so cruel to someone else Christian married when she did nothing else to deserve it.

“They’re wolves, Iris,” Christian murmurs, looking at me a little sadly. “Don’t let them fool you. Nothing nice happens here.”

We both turn our attention to the table as a sound rings out, metal on crystal. Conversation dies out, even Ricky – seated between his parents with an open seat for Bella – falling silent and fastening his attention on Don Romano as he lowers his knife back to the table and lifts his glass of red wine.

“So,” Romano says, his voice low and dangerous as he fastens his eyes on me. “It seems…congratulations are in order.”