Chapter Twenty-One

Marriage had never been the plan. I always imagined having an old lady at some point, a woman I’d temporarily tolerate at my side until she, like the ones before her, would annoy the shit out of me and I’d dump her. Love until death do us part had seemed like something out of a chick flick I’d never watch.

A life without Marcella was a torture I didn’t even want to consider. Eternity with her? My only desire. If there were a closer bond than marriage, then I would have chosen it. I wanted Marcella to belong to me forever, and I wanted to belong to her. I wanted every fucker who wrinkled their noses at our bond, and particularly at me, to know that Marcella and I belonged together, that nothing in this world could part us. Even Luca Vitiello hadn’t been able to do it.

I’d tried to prove myself to him over the last six months, helping him strike down several rogue Earl supporters and protecting Marcella as well as I could. But he and I still never talked anything but business and despite Marcella’s and Aria’s insistence, I’d never been invited to a family dinner.

I couldn’t really blame him. If I had a daughter like Marcella, I’d make anyone’s life hell who dared to think he was worthy of her. Maybe today would finally tip the scale in my favor, or maybe it would make him lose his shit.

The bouncer only nodded as I stepped into the Sphere. To think that the day would come that I could come and go in a Famiglia club still was hard to believe. Today it wasn’t business that brought me here. I headed into the back where the office was and knocked.

“Come in,” sounded Luca’s deep voice.

I had to admit I was a bit nervous. Marcella loved her father and undoubtedly wanted his approval.

I walked inside. Luca sat behind his desk, typing something on his laptop. He sat back in his chair and pointed at the chair across from him. I sat down and briefly felt like my young self during one of my many visits to the headmaster’s office.

“What brings you here?” he asked neutrally. He and I had mastered being civil to each other.

“I need to talk to you. It’s about Marcella.”

At once, his expression became alert and wary. “What about her?”

I reached inside the pocket of my leather jacket, noting the subtle tensing of Luca’s body. Yeah, trust would take time if we ever reached that level at all. I opened my palm, where my grandmother’s engagement ring rested.

During my last visit to my mother, four weeks ago, which had been only the second time I saw her since she sent me to find Gray, she’d given it to me. I remembered mother’s words about how her relationship with neither my father nor my uncle had been true enough for her to want to use the ring. Not that either of them had ever asked her for her hand. She’d always only been their old lady. She’d given it to me because she could see that Marcella was more. I’d been shocked back then because I hadn’t been ready to admit that I wanted to marry Marcella.

His gaze flicked down to the ring and surprise flashed in his eyes before he hid it.

“I want to marry your daughter and I know how much your approval would mean to Marcella. That’s why I’m here to ask for her hand in marriage.”

Luca stared at me as if he saw me for the first time. “Does she know you’re here?”

“That would defy the purpose, right? From what I understand your traditions, I have to ask you first before I ask Marcella. I don’t think she expects me to pop the question any time soon.”

“But you’re sure she’ll say yes?”

Was I sure? Fuck, no. With a woman like Marcella, no man should be too sure of himself, but I hoped she’d say yes. We’d braved so many negative influences these last few months and it had brought us only closer.

“Do you think she’ll say yes?” I shot his question back.

Luca nodded. “I think she’ll do.”

His words caught me by surprise. “So what do you say? Will you give me her hand in marriage?”

To be honest, even if he said no, I’d ask Marcella to marry me. He’d just have to get used to the idea like he had to get used to us being together. I wanted to be with Marcella and nothing and no one would stop me.

“Would it change anything if I said no?” he asked.

Fuck, sometimes he really freaked me out with his ability to see through me.

“No,” I said truthfully.

“Good. Marcella deserves a man who’ll fight against all odds to be with her. You have my blessing.”

I nodded and shoved my ring back into my pocket. I’d expected more resistance and was now faced with my nerves over how to pop the question to Marcella.

“I’ll ask her today,” I said, following an impulse.

The hint of a wry smile teased Luca’s mouth. “I won’t change my mind, no need to rush.”

“Better safe than sorry.”

“Marcella’s probably going to be annoyed that you asked me first.”

“It’s what she would have wanted.”

“Yes, but she also wants to be an independent woman who decides for herself.”

“She can’t have both,” I muttered.

“She’s a woman. She’ll want both, setting you like every other man up for failure.”

I chuckled. “You sound like you have experience with this.”

“I’m married.” He chuckled briefly and I fell in. It was a strange bonding moment that quickly had us both uncomfortable, so I left.

Marcella and I had a date in the afternoon to pick up Santana for a walk. Her training had progressed enough so she could move into a real home and I’d asked Growl to give her to me. Marcella didn’t know it yet, and I’d planned to tell her today, and I still would but afterward I’d ask her for her hand.

Santana wagged her tail wildly when I headed for her cage. Marcella wasn’t there yet, which was a good thing so I could get a grip on my nerves. I wasn’t sure why I was even nervous.

The black limousine pulled up and Marcella got out in her usual shelter attire of jeans and a simple sweater. Maybe it would have been more traditional to ask her in a fancy restaurant, dressed up, but it would have felt wrong. Marcella and I could only ever really be ourselves when we were out of the public eye.

She kissed me in greeting and was about to pull back to greet Santana but I held her against me a moment longer. She peered up at me and slowly her brows puckered. “Is anything the matter?”

I shook my head. “I asked Growl if I could adopt Santana and he gave me the okay.”

Marcella’s face lit up. “Really?” She squatted down and scratched Santana’s ears the way she liked it. “You’ll get your forever home.”

I wasn’t sure what propelled me to do it, maybe the caring way Marcella patted Santana but I pulled out the ring.

“Will you marry me?” I asked. Marcella’s head shot up, her eyes widening. I held out the ring. It wasn’t a modern piece and certainly not as expensive as most of Marcella’s jewelry, not even close, but I couldn’t imagine giving her anything else. Then I realized what a fucking idiot I was.

Marcella was still kneeling beside Santana, and before me, when it should have been me on my knees.

“Stupid idiot,” I muttered.

“What?” she asked, half amused, half confused. I got down on my knees beside her.

“I know this isn’t how it’s supposed to be done, but will you marry me?”

Marcella eyed the ring.

“Your grandmother’s?” she asked, instead of answering my question.

“Yes. I wanted to buy a new ring but none of them would have meant as much as this one does.” I felt like a fucking pussy admitting this, especially as I was still kneeling beside Marcella.

She didn’t say anything only regarded the ring and I was beginning to feel nervous. I had never considered that she might say no. Not because I was certain she couldn’t have a better husband, because she probably could. “I’ll be the best husband for you. I’ll have your back when you need it, and I’ll be at your side when you need a partner. And if you need a protector, I’ll make up your front. I’ll be your knight in dirty armor, your lover, your confidant. I’ll kill your enemies and hold your crown. I’ll give my blood, my life and anything else you want.”

Marcella shook her head, tears in her eyes, and my heart sank, but then a smile spread on her face. “You don’t have to convince me. I know you are the right man for me. So yes!”

“Yes?” I asked like an idiot.

“Yes.”

I put the ring on her finger and pulled her against me, kissing her deeply. Santana tiptoed around us, her wagging tail hitting us on occasion. She obviously thought this was a fun game. I shoved to my feet and pulled Marcella with me only to lift her off the ground and kiss her again. She wrapped her arms around my neck and her legs around my waist.

“We have to tell my parents. Dad will be furious if we don’t tell him right away.”

I pulled back. “He already knows.”

Marcella’s brows puckered.

“I asked him for your hand in marriage because I figured he was the traditional type and I knew how much your father’s approval meant to you.”

Marcella’s face morphed into a smile but then she pursed her lips. “It’s my decision whom I marry. Men making these kinds of decisions behind my back is archaic.”

I smirked. I had expected that reaction. “Your dad predicted you’d say something along the line. We both had a good laugh about it.”

“You and Dad laughed together?”

“He smirked a little. I count that as full-blown laughter where your father is concerned.”

Marcella shook her head but she looked slightly mollified. “It’s my decision,” she insisted.

“It is. Only your decision. Your father only said that he’d give his approval if you want to marry me. And you said yes.”

“I did,” she whispered, softening once more.

I couldn’t believe it.

When I returned home later with Santana, and she rolled up in the basket at the window that I’d bought for her, I felt like I was slowly arriving in this new life.

The same evening, I was invited over to dinner at the Vitiello mansion.

It still was the fucking strangest feeling in the world to set foot inside Luca Vitiello’s home. In my mind it had always seemed like the devil’s den, but this place, of course luxurious as fuck, had a homely feeling and was slowly starting to feel familiar.

It still felt surreal to be under the same roof with Luca Vitiello, a man I’d spent so many years killing in my fantasies that our sudden truce still hadn’t sunk in. Only someone like Marcella had the power to bring men like us together. For a girl like her a man would do anything. I would definitely. My father had died by her father’s hand, and my uncle had died through mine by her bidding. It spoke of my love for this woman that I didn’t regret anything. The murder of my uncle had proven my love to Marcella and I’d kill him over and over again if she asked me.

Their housekeeper opened the door. Usually, Marcella was the one to do it, probably to keep me away from her father and brother.

“I’m here for dinner,” I said simply.

The housekeeper eyed me critically. My decision to wear black jeans and a black shirt with rolled-up sleeves obviously didn’t pass her approval.

“The Masters are expecting you in the fireplace room.”

I stifled the need to roll my eyes. Of course, the house had a fireplace room. Even though I’d dated Marcella for more than six months, I’d never gotten farther into the house than the foyer and that one time in the living room. Up on the staircase stood Valerio, grinning. Not surprising, he was the Vitiello man I got along with the best. “You’re in big trouble.”

I cocked an eyebrow, but he didn’t elaborate. I followed the housekeeper through the foyer and down the corridor to a wooden door. She knocked. Amo opened the door a couple of seconds later, looking so glum, you could think we were commemorating someone’s passing and not my engagement to his sister.

He gave me a curt nod in greeting before he opened the door so I could enter. Inside seated on the wide leather armchairs, were Luca and Matteo. Their expressions were slightly less hostile. Matteo got up and handed me a dark amber drink. “You’re a lucky bastard.”

“I know,” I said, taking a sniff at the liquid. “Is this your way of getting rid of me?”

“Poison is not my style,” Luca said dryly.

“He prefers to choke people with his bare hands,” Matteo commented. Then he winked and nodded. “Go ahead, drink up.”

“I know what he can do with his hands,” I said, then emptied the glass in one gulp. This tasted worse than the moonshine Gunnar used to make for club celebrations. The brief moment of wistfulness passed quickly, then I fought the urge to cough at the burning feeling making its way down my esophagus.

Luca nodded as if I’d passed a test by drinking. The guy was in his fucking forties but still looked as if he could beat the shit out of most guys, or choke them with his bare hands as Matteo liked to point out.

“Sit,” Luca said, motioning at the empty chair across from him.

I sank down. Amo watched me with narrowed eyes but Matteo’s eyes still gleamed with a hint of amusement.

“So,” I began, scanning the three Vitiello men. “Why am I here?”

“You’re going to marry Marcella, sooner or later.”

“Sooner. We want to tie the bond next year.”

“A year to organize a wedding of this proportion will freak everyone out,” Matteo said with a grin.

“What kind of proportions?”

“Marcella is my only daughter. She’s a Vitiello, so of course she’ll have a grand feast with hundreds of guests.”

“Okay,” I said. To be honest, I’d never thought about the actual feast.

“But first, we need to make the engagement official. Release a statement and so on,” Luca said.

“Fuck, you make it sound like it’s some kind of business endeavor.”

“Marriage is a sort of business endeavor in our circles. It’s used to strengthen families and make peace.”

“The press will probably spin their own tales anyway like they have been doing these last six months.”

“Probably,” Matteo agreed.

“Did you discuss the matter of your last name?” Luca asked.

“What matter? It’s tradition to take the name of the man.” Judging from their expressions, that wasn’t what they wanted. “But you don’t want Marcella to take my name.”

“Marcella White doesn’t have the same ring as Marcella Vitiello, don’t you think?” Matteo said with a crooked grin.

Fuck. Did they expect me to take on their name? Hell would freeze over before that happened. “Did you talk to Marcella?”

“I elaborated my concerns to her, yes,” Luca said.

“It’ll be a fucking shame if she gives up a name that holds so much power for your name,” Amo muttered.

Maybe they were right but I wouldn’t take on the name Vitiello and I didn’t want to have a different name from my wife.

“Marcella and I will discuss it. After all, it’s our marriage,” I said firmly. If I allowed it, Luca would probably control every aspect of my life with Marcella and that sure as fuck wouldn’t happen.

“Do that,” Luca said graciously.

“Now let’s move on to the fun part,” Matteo said, his smile becoming broader, which was never a good sign and could only be for one reason.

I raised my eyebrows. “Threatening to cut my balls off and stuff them into my mouth if I ever hurt Marcella?”

Amo chuckled and even Luca briefly cracked the hint of a smile before his expression darkened with warning. “It would be the beginning of very agonizing hours for you.”

A knock sounded. When the door opened without waiting for Luca’s approval, I knew only three people who had the audacity to do it. One of them, Aria, stepped in, her gaze quickly settling on me as if to check that I was still in one piece before it moved on to Luca. “I thought we were meant to have dinner together?”

A hint of indignation lay in her voice.

“We just had a quick talk with Maddox,” Luca said.

“We needed to make sure your future son-in-law got a fitting welcome.”

Aria sighed. She met my gaze. “I hope they weren’t too rude.”

“I survived,” I said with a smile.

Luca rose to his feet and went over to his wife. “If he ever hurt Marcella, you’d be the first to ask me to kill him, admit it.”

Aria’s face remained kind as she said, “Yes, but that’s beside the point. Maddox has no intention to hurt Marcella, right?”

Despite her kind face, her question almost terrified me more than Luca. “I’m not even dreaming of it.”

“Good.” She made an inviting gesture. “Why don’t you join me in the dining room while I set up the table? Marcella still needs a couple of minutes to get ready.”

Luca frowned, obviously not liking the idea of me alone with his wife. I rolled my eyes skywards. I was practically his son-in-law, at some point he’d have to tone down the distrust.

“Of course,” I said, pretty sure there wasn’t another acceptable answer to Aria’s invitation and absolutely certain that this was another test I had to pass: talking to the matriarch of the Vitiello clan alone. Maybe she didn’t show it as openly as Luca but Aria wasn’t any less protective of her daughter.