20. Stefania

The work-from-home compromise gets all my creative juices flowing again. I throw myself into setting up my home office, even though I have no clue what job I'll end up doing from it. Davide even seems vaguely into it too, although I think he just wants to fuck me on top of my big, fancy desk. He's probably imagining me lounging around in pencil skirts and silky blouses just waiting for him to come home and use me up.

Which is kind of not the worst thing in the world, but I'm not doing this just to satisfy some office kink.

A couple of days after our agreement, with my furniture en route and a bunch of resumes sent out for remote jobs, I find myself walking arm in arm with my husband to his parents' house a few doors down. "We do this once a month," he explains as we hesitate outside. "The whole family gets together and we invite some of the more important Capos. Sometimes a politician shows up, or maybe an important detective is interested in having a conversation with my father about maybe getting on the payroll, that sort of thing. Tonight, it's just family though."

I chew my lip and straighten out my clothes. I'm in a conservative dress, low heels, and simple makeup with my hair done in a twist. Davide said I look like I'm on the way to a Whitehouse Correspondents' dinner, while I was going for mafia homemaker.

Inside is light and lively. Simon and Elena are already there sitting in the kitchen with Freddie while their father pours glasses of prosecco. We're greeted with lots of excitement and I'm practically passed around to everyone as a drink is shoved into my hand.

"Dad's been slaving away for hours," Elena says, rolling her eyes. "He makes this at least three times a year."

"And if you don't compliment it enough, he'll be very disappointed," Simon adds.

"Don't worry, he'll give you plenty of opportunities." Elena grins and clinks her glass against mine. "He'll ask you fifty times what you thought, and you'd better be enthusiastic each time."

"Or else he'll keep asking," Simon says.

"He sounds like my older brother Saul. Whenever he cooked, he needed a million compliments." I smile to myself though talking about my family is bittersweet. As hard as things were with them, I really miss my brothers, and I still haven't made up with Giorgia after our fight.

I push my homesickness away and chat with Freddie about potential job opportunities while the boys stand around some fancy bottle of whiskey and discuss tasting notes. Elena disappears for a little while and comes back with the last sister in tow. Laura looks grumpy about being here—her dark hair is slicked back and she's wearing beat-up jeans and an old sweatshirt—but she lets herself get pushed into a chair, accepts some prosecco, and studiously ignores me.

"Dinner's just a simple Bolognese," Alessandro announces. Davide's father wears an apron as he portions out the bowls.

"Tell her how you make it," Davide prompts. "You're going to do it no matter what."

"Ah, it's no big deal." Alessandro beams at me. "Just beef and veal simmered in white wine and plum tomatoes. Easy as can be."

"It takes him like eight hours," Elena says and mouths compliments to me.

"Smells amazing," I say and try not to laugh as all the siblings nod at me and make more hand gestures. "And wow, that sauce looks so good, I'm really excited."

"Thank you, Stefania. I see you're a woman of wonderful taste. You'll get the best dish tonight." Alessandro hums to himself as he works and Davide gives me a wink and a nod.

I'm beaming at how comfortable and happy I feel with these people. For a bunch of vicious, brutal killers, this feels like the most normal group I've ever been a part of. My brothers would have about a dozen staff members serving everything and another dozen soldiers and sycophants hanging on to everything, but there's only immediate family here. Everyone seems happy, everyone except for Laura, who keeps on scowling at me whenever I glance in her direction.

As Alessandro sets the table, I excuse myself to the bathroom. When I'm finished and on the way back out, I stop short, nearly running straight into Laura as she looms in the middle of the hallway. We're at the back of the house, away from the rest of everyone.

"I know what you're doing," she says, not smiling. She's looking at me like she's going to jab a knife into my guts, and I take a step back, afraid she might actually lash out. The girl's got some seriously dead eyes.

"I have no clue what you're talking about."

"Kissing my father's ass? Getting in deep with my brother? Spending time with my mother and my sister? I know what you're doing, princess, and I'm not going to let it happen."

I genuinely have no clue what she's talking about. I rack my brain trying to think of something I did to piss this girl off but there's absolutely nothing. I've mostly ignored her since coming here and she's done the same, but now she's acting like I'm some sort of spy sent to gather her family's secrets.

"Did I do something to you?" I ask, gathering what little courage I have, because she's really rattling me.

"Not yet, but I'm going to make sure you don't. My family is the most important thing in the world to me, and you're still just a stranger. I don't care if you're married to Davide. He doesn't understand people."

"And you do?" I almost laugh in her face, but she's dead serious. "I'm sorry, but I'm just trying to survive right now, okay? If I did something to piss you off, I really am sorry."

"Davide might seem like he's strong, but my brother is fragile. You don't know what he's been through, and I won't let you hurt him. I'm warning you right now, be careful."

"I'm not here to hurt anyone."

She cocks her head to the side. Her lips pull back into a sneer, but she only shakes her head, turns on her heel, and marches away. I watch her go, totally taken aback by the vitriol.

I've never met someone who seemed to hate me so much for absolutely no reason. Maybe she's got this idea in her head about what I'm doing here, but she has to understand that this is an arranged marriage and I had nothing to do with it. Or else maybe she's just completely nuts and I'm going to wake up one night to her stabbing me in the chest with a rusty knife.

Either way, I'm shaken when I head back to dinner. I do my best to smile and engage in conversation, and I tell Alessandro about fifteen times about how good everything tastes—which isn't hard since it's actually outstanding—but I keep catching looks from Laura. Nothing overtly hostile, but it's like she's keeping an eye on me.

Dinner wraps up, and Davide and I walk back to our house with Elena and Laura. They head into their own homes, and once I'm inside with the door firmly locked behind us, I head upstairs to bed. Davide chats about the night, but I don't have it in me to mention the conversation with Laura.

I keep thinking about what she said. You don't know what he's been through. She's right—Davide's obviously gone through some kind of trauma. He mentioned the panic attacks and needing to be in wide-open spaces, and there are the burn scars all along his left arm. Whatever happened left its mark, physically and emotionally, and maybe Laura's worried that he hasn't processed everything yet.

And maybe she's right. Davide's difficult to read on a good day. Sometimes he's burning hot and can't keep his hands off me, and other times he disappears for days, barely sleeping and never eating. I don't know what to make of it.

"You okay?" he asks once the lights are off.

I roll over, turning my back to him. "I'm fine. Just tired. I think I drank too much."

"You can say no next time. I know you're not comfortable yet, but nobody will be insulted." He rubs my shoulder and I do my best not to shrink away from him.

I don't want to feel this distance but Laura's warning keeps playing in my head. There's so much I don't know about my husband, and even if his sister is being kind of crazy and overprotective, she's right that there's a whole world to Davide that I don't know about.

And I have no clue if I'll ever get him to open up.