* * *
It had been a while since I’d been at Bibiana’s childhood home. I never liked her parents much. That hadn’t changed when they’d forced Bibi into a marriage with an old man. My father and Rocco Scuderi were waiting in front of the door for us. When we walked up to them, Papà pulled me into a hug, kissed my temple and pressed his palm against my abdomen. “So how are you?”
I could feel Dante’s eyes on us. Scuderi, too, was watching with hawk-eyes. I wasn’t sure if he knew about my pregnancy. It wasn’t public knowledge yet, but soon it would be hard to hide. A closer look was already enough to raise suspicions. “I’m good,” I said in a whisper.
Papà nodded, then stepped back. “Are you here to support Bibiana?”
I gave him a nod, but was distracted when the door opened and Bibiana’s parents welcomed us into their house. Bibiana was in the living room, wrapped in a blanket. I rushed over to her and pulled her into a tight hug. “I did it. I really did it,” she whispered into my ear.
“Shhh,” I murmured, patting her back. When I pulled away, Dante, my father and Rocco Scuderi stood beside us. Bibi stiffened, eyes fearful as they darted between us. Her parents hovered in the doorway. If Bibi had been my child, I wouldn’t have left her side in a moment like this.
“They’re here to question you because of Tommaso’s death. It’s standard procedure. Everything will be fine,” I told her.
Dante approached us. “It would be best if we could have a word alone with Bibiana,” he said to me. Bibiana’s parents left without a word of protest. I stood but didn’t move. Dante’s imploring gaze made me back away a few steps. Bibiana rose, then looked at Dante fearfully as he stood before her. She was practically cowering and it brought out my protective side, but Dante shot me a warning glare. He wanted me to trust him, to let him handle this, and I knew I had no choice. After an encouraging smile at Bibi, I left the living room, but I didn’t go far. I pressed my ear against the door, trying to listen in on their conversation. They spoke too quietly, which would have been a good sign under normal circumstances. No raised voices should have been a positive thing, but Dante was his most dangerous when he was quiet.
Fifteen minutes later, I heard steps approaching the door and quickly backed away. Papà opened the door and beckoned me in. “Everything’s okay,” he said when he saw my worried expression. I walked in. Bibi sat on the sofa, her cheeks wet with tears, while Dante and Scuderi stood near the window, talking in quiet voices. I hurried over to her and sat. She gripped my hand immediately and I squeezed.
Her parents came in when Dante turned to us. “The men most likely responsible for Tommaso’s death are dead. There’s no punishment to dole out, so I rule the case closed.” I almost sagged with relief.
“Does that mean we are allowed to look for a new husband for our daughter? Recently the habit of waiting a year has been loosened,” Bibiana’s father said and was of course referring to me. That bastard. Bibiana had barely been freed from one husband they had chosen for her, and they were already eager to find someone new.
Dante’s answering glower made the other man lower his head. “Bibiana is pregnant with Tommaso’s child.”
My eyes flew to Bibi, who gave me a small happy smile. “I suspected for a while, but I got confirmation this morning,” she whispered.
Her parents looked like they’d been punched. They could hardly marry off a pregnant widow. That would be in bad taste. Bibi met their disappointed glares head-on. “I’m not going to move back in with you.”
“I give you my word that your daughter will be safe in the house she shared with Tommaso,” Dante said.
I had to hide a smile. Bibi’s parents couldn’t argue with that. After that, Dante and I drove Bibi back to her house. Although we didn’t talk about what had really happened, Bibi’s relieved expression left hardly any doubt. She tried to look solemn whenever she remembered herself, but most of the time her relief spoke too loud.
I was glad Dante knew the truth. He would have figured it out anyway. When Bibi had gotten out of the car and we were on our way home, I put my hand on his leg.
Dante’s eyes registered surprise. I usually honored his reluctance for public displays of affection. “Thank you for helping Bibi.”
“I did it for you,” he said simply. That was probably as close to a declaration of what—Love? Affection?—I’d ever get from him.
“Thank you.” I pulled my hand away again and rested it in my lap, but Dante took me by surprise when he reached for my hand, brought it up to his face and pressed a kiss against my knuckles. My breath caught in my throat, and immediately tears gathered in my eyes. Such a small gesture shouldn’t have meant so much, but it did, and pregnancy hormones didn’t help. Dante didn’t let go of my hand and sent me a questioning look. “Valentina? Are you all right?”
“It’s the hormones. I’m sorry. Just ignore me.”
Dante rested our linked hands on his thigh and drove with one hand. He didn’t comment as I wiped my eyes and pressed my free hand against the small bump of my stomach.
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
In the weeks following Tommaso’s death, Bibiana blossomed to new life. She seemed to thrive in the solitude of her home. I wished I could handle loneliness as well. Dante was busier than ever. He wanted to make sure that the rest of his men were behind him one hundred percent. That didn’t leave much time for me, except for the nights he woke me with caresses and kisses. Since I’d asked him to make love to me after Antonio’s death, he’d allowed more closeness during sex, had often held me in his arms, but I had a feeling he still preferred to be behind me as it allowed him to keep his distance.
I spent my days either working in the casino, or with Bibiana or Ines, who’d become a stronger presence in my life as my pregnancy progressed. Today Bibiana, Ines and I had agreed to go shopping together. Of course baby clothing was the number one item on our agenda for the day.
When we walked into our first baby store, Ines asked the question I knew she’d been dying to ask for hours. “So how’s Dante dealing with the pregnancy?”
“He’s not dealing at all,” I said casually. I didn’t want Ines to know how much it bothered me that he hadn’t asked me about our baby directly once. He always inquired about how I was and was increasingly careful when we slept together, but the word “baby” never left his mouth. He hadn’t even asked if it was a boy or girl yet. “Most of the time he pretends there is no pregnancy.”
Ines eyed my protruding stomach. It still wasn’t too obvious when I wore a loose-fitting blouse, as I was only twenty-six weeks along, but of course Dante saw it all the time. “He’s being impossible. Do you want me to talk to him?”
“God, no,” I said quickly, then sent Ines an apologetic smile. “But thank you. Dante would be furious if you interfered.”
“You’re probably right. I still don’t like it. Sometimes I don’t understand men. Why can’t they admit when they messed up?”
I shrugged. It was something I’d wondered so often, but it never got me far. Bibiana held up a cute onesie with “Lock up your boys, my Dad owns a gun” written across the front. “Not that anyone needs the reminder, but why not? You should get something like this.” She grinned, then sobered. “Is something wrong?”