I got into an argument with the hulks at the door. Apparently, the baby wouldn’t stop crying wasn’t enough excuse to leave the room.
“It’s okay. I’ll walk with them and bring them back myself.” Massimo’s doppelganger appeared out of nowhere.
“Don Bellomo said no one leaves the room,” one of the goons said through Nick’s loud crying.
Domenico stood tall in front of him, his broad shoulders as broad and bulky as the bodyguard’s, the look in his eyes terrifying. “What would Don Bellomo say if his baby’s nonstop crying was because he was sick, and you idiots locked him up in the room, not even letting his aunt check if he was?”
I smirked. Why didn’t I think of that?
The bodyguards mumbled a couple of curses in Italian as they made way. I glared at them as I pushed the stroller. “Language around the baby.” The three-month-old baby.
“Mi scusi, signorina,” one of them said.
Domenico gave me a shit-eating grin as we walked to the elevator.
“Don’t expect a thank you. I’d have made the same argument and won on my own if you hadn’t intervened,” I said.
“Is that so? Why don’t I just go and tell them Nicco is just fine, and it’s his aunt that’s bored, and she might even try to run away from—”
“Shut up. You’re such an asshole.”
“Thank me, Nicky.”
“Ugh. Fine. Thank you…stronzo.”
“Oh, she swears in Italian… Are you as fluent as you are in Bitch?”
The elevator opened, and I strolled in with Nick, who had magically stopped crying, the tall bastard joining. “I don’t think I’m more fluent in anything than Bitch.”
“I thought so. Now apologize.”
“For what?” I snorted.
“You still owe me an apology from last night, and now for calling me stronzo when I’m only trying to help you.”
“What about you? You don’t think you need to apologize for anything?”
He shrugged, pursing his lips. “No.”
“No?! You’re unbelievable. I’m not gonna start with your lack of propriety when dealing with a woman. I think you’re a lost cause in that department. But what about the crazy delusional declaration you shamelessly made in front of my whole family, huh?”
“It’s not crazy or delusional. It’s as real as it gets. And why would I be ashamed of liking you? I want to marry you.”
I blinked hard at him. Thatwordwouldn’t even register in my brain. Why on earth would a man like him want to marry a girl like me? A girl who hated his lifestyle when there were a thousand others in their families who would have been more welcoming of such proposal, a girl who never cared about wealth to turn a blind eye and agree to have a murderer for a husband, a girl who didn’t need a man to take care of her, a girl who was strong and had a mind of her own.
A girl who…was defiled by another man.
The elevator dinged, and I flinched for a split-second, yet glad for the distraction from the memory. Domenico led the way through the swarming-with-guards hallway. Nick restarted his symphony, emphasizing our need for a walk to the rest of the goons. Was the little sucker crying on demand? That little sneaky thing was really Il Lupo’s son.
“You’re oddly silent. What happened to that sweet tongue of yours?” Domenico taunted.
“I have nothing to say to your crazy.”
“Crazy to like you?”
Most likely. “I’m not saying you should be ashamed of liking me or you’re crazy because of it, but marriage? Who gets married like that? You don’t even know me. And blurting it out like that when you haven’t even—”
“Haven’t even what? Told you I liked you and wanted to make you mine? I have.” He leaned in for a whisper. “Or was my cock too subtle for you when you were sitting—”