Total pages in book: 99
Estimated words: 94124 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 471(@200wpm)___ 376(@250wpm)___ 314(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 94124 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 471(@200wpm)___ 376(@250wpm)___ 314(@300wpm)
“Interrupt a man while he’s sleeping.”
When my father’s grip firms, causing Dr. Marino’s hand to go white, I enter the sterile-scented space. The floor creaks under my weight, and my father’s eyes dart to me.
“He’s doing his job, Papa.”
He huffs as if miffed before he drops Dr. Marino’s wrist. “I told you I don’t need a doctor.”
I gesture for the doctor to leave before he loses the ability to breathe, and join my father at his bedside. Treating my father as an invalid is a quick way to the grave. Doesn’t mean I won’t tease him, though. I’m his eldest son. That automatically makes me his favorite. “You also said you weren’t having a heart attack when you were.”
“Vanni…” His brows lower down his face as he scolds me in a dialect that’s hardly used anymore. The Old Castilian language is only known by the greats.
“Such a grump.” I pull a chair close to his bed. “Is this what happens when you wake early? You become a grouch?”
“This is what happens when your eldest son keeps everyone awake at all hours of the night, entertaining a female guest.” He sits up, his movements stable for a man on his deathbed. “Who knew Valeria had it in her? She—”
“Isn’t the woman sharing my bed.”
He watches me with astute eyes. Shockingly, his gaze holds no judgment.
For several long seconds, we sit in silence, with only the hum of the machines once responsible for keeping him alive filling the space.
Then he tilts his head and studies me with those shrewd eyes that miss nothing. “You look… different.”
“Different?”
“Like a man with something on his mind.”
I hesitate, then exhale slowly. “I met someone.”
“And?”
I wait a beat before murmuring, “She’s… different.”
His eye roll is as immature as my laughter that bounces around his room.
“She reminds me a lot of Mamma.”
That secures his attention. “Do we know who this girl is, Giovanni? Her roots? I won’t try to dissuade you from her, but please make sure her intentions are good. The family looks up to you. Your brothers mirror your actions. We can’t have an outsider coming in and cracking the foundations we fought so hard to build.”
I nod in understanding. I might not like it, but I understand his worry. “They’re good people, Papa. You know her mother.” He waits with bated breath for me to fill in the gaps. “Concetta Gambino. She recognized our name when I introduced myself. The fact she didn’t seem wary announces you’ve met previously.”
I twist my lips, still unsettled by how calm Valentina’s mother was when I pulled off the cloak I’d been wearing all morning the day of our official introduction. I couldn’t exactly walk into her home, tell her I’d participated in the kidnap of her only child, and expect her to trust me.
Only Matteo is cocky enough to pull off something like that.
“She smiled with fondness when the familiarity of our name fell around her.” I bark out a husky laugh. “Most people run in fear.”
My father grins faintly, amused. “Concetta Gambino…” He draws in a prolonged breath through his nose like I do every time Valentina’s arousal slicks my palm. “She can smile.” The amusement in his eyes deepens. “She’s the only woman to have ever turned down a Caruso.”
I stare at him, my pulse spiking. “What?”
“She turned me down,” he says simply, as if discussing the weather. “I asked her to marry me, and she said thanks but no thanks. That this life wasn’t for her.” He waves his hand around his elegant yet manly room.
Panic grips my throat. The math isn’t mathing, but my knowledge about the tricks some women will do to attach themselves to a Caruso isn’t solely from personal experience. It’s also from the many stories my mother shared over the years. Our father was a catch, and she often said her sheets wouldn’t even be cold before there’d be a line of women at our door, ready to seduce our father.
Her assumptions weren’t far from the truth.
Women came in droves, but our father turned them away.
“You were only with Mom, right? No one else in your thirty-six-year marriage?”
His expression hardens until it showcases the man who built an empire from nothing. “Don’t insult me, boy,” he says coldly. “I loved your mother. I’d never step out on her like that. Why do you think my heart is failing now that she’s gone?”
I swallow hard as shame replaces the worry burning through me. “I didn’t mean—”
“Yes, you did,” he interrupts, his reply sharp enough to cut. “I never strayed, Giovanni. Not once.”
I nod quickly, the certainty in his reply too honest to discount.
Another stretch of silence falls between us before my father eventually breaks it. “Tell me about her.”
“Concetta?”
He smacks me up the back of the head, rattling my brain against my skull. “The woman who has you walking around with love hearts bouncing from your eyes.”