“All of them,” I said honestly.
Both men chuckled.
“You have good taste,” Gatto complimented me.
I smiled at him. “You’re the one who picks them so that compliment should do to you.”
He preened.
“What do you think?” I asked Dante, tucking myself further into his side, placing my hand over his heart just to feel it beat.
“Mmm,” he bent closer, using a small diamond magnifier to look at the blood red diamond, the grey diamond, and the black diamond as if he was a jewel dealer himself.
“I like the grey because it is the color of your eyes,” he told me, grasping my chin lightly to look into them. “I like the black because our soul shines brightest in the darkness.”
I agreed with his poetry completely, entranced by his words and the way he looked at me as if I was more priceless than the millions worth of diamonds on the table.
“But it has to be the red,” he declared, lifting the large wine-red diamond from the cushioned tray and fitting it into my palm. My fingers curled around it like one of his kisses. “It is the color of passion and fire. The color of you. But also,” he paused to kiss me, a sudden, savage kiss that brought me to my tip toes. “I think now you see the world in black, white and red, donna mia.”
“I do,” I agreed, somewhat breathless, robbed of air by the beauty of this man.
My man.
I was learning that there was nothing so romantic as a man who strived to know you as a cartographer maps new lands, always filled with a sense of wonder even when he discovered something you thought was a flaw.
“The black diamond, please,” I said instantly.
Dante pressed a kiss into my hair and I knew he was happy with my selection.
“Thank you,” I told him as Gatto moved to collect both stones. “It will be nice to have while you’re…gone. But let me pay for your ring, at least.”
His face changed suddenly, lips flat, eyes narrowed. “I know you can afford nice things, Lena. I know you worked hard for the ability and I admire it. But I will always take care of you. Always. Please indulge me in my archaic or perhaps my Italian nature and do not argue with me about this.”
Maybe I would have put up a stink before, but Dante was going to jail in a matter of hours. I didn’t want to spend those arguing over something trivial.
“Okay.”
He squinted at me then placed his hand on my forehead. “Are you feeling okay?”
I laughed as I swatted his hand away. “I’m not that difficult!”
His smile softened. “No, not, you are not.”
Marco wasn’t alone.
“What do you want me to do, woman?” His voice was thin and scratchy with disuse, weak from the coma and his injuries.
“I want you to fix this.” It was Bambi, her tone desperate. “I want everything to be as we said it would be.”
“You told me a million fucking times not to leave Angie. You’re giving me whiplash and I already had a concussion.”
There was silence.
Dante and I remained just down the hall pretending to read a bulletin board as we eavesdropped shamelessly on their conversation.
“Bambi baby,” Marco’s words were tender, smooth. “You gotta tell me what’s going on. You’ve been so fucking stressed lately. I know things are hard with the Boss gone, but he’ll be back soon and he’ll fix this thing with the di Carlos.”
“Will he?” she whispered, sniffing. “It feels like it won’t ever end.”
“I didn’t know you were so scared,” he admitted. “Is it Rora? The di Carlo brothers are assholes, but they wouldn’t hurt a random kid in our Family.”
There was silence where they seemed to ponder whether this was a true assertion or not.
So did I.
As if summoned by her name, there was a sharp little squeal and then a small body ran straight into our legs.
I twisted my body to look behind us. Jaco was striding down the hall toward us.
And Aurora was hugging us from behind, her dark head smooshed between Dante and I, one arm around each of our legs. As I looked, she tipped her face up with a beatific smile that took my breath away.
I’d forgotten what a gorgeous girl she was.
“Zio Dante,” she cried, still shouting even though we were beside each other and in a hospital hallway. “Elena!”
“Rora,” I greeted warmly as Dante turned and hauled her into his arms.
She laughed delightedly as my husband peppered her face in kiss. I watched raptly as she smashed her hands to either side of his face to hold him still than planted a big, puckered kiss straight on his mouth.
“I missed you,” she declared.
“I miss you more,” he assured her. “I thought of you every day. Didn’t I, Lena?”
“He did,” I agreed, reaching over to smooth her tangled curls. “So did I.”
Rora smiled at me, catching my hand so she could bring it to her cheek for a cuddle. My heart swelled, threatening to burst at the seams.
She was perfect.
My hand went to my uncooperative womb as it panged. I tried not to be ungrateful––I’d spent too long doing that––but I still wanted to be a mother so badly I ached with it.
I dreamed of one day having a daughter like sweet, precocious Aurora.
“Should we go see your mama?” Dante asked, carrying her easily with one large hand propped under her bottom.
Something shifted in her little face, a tremor that was there and gone. Dante’s eyes snapped to mine instantly, wondering if I’d noticed it.
I nodded.
His mouth went flat, but he jerked his chin up at Jaco as he arrived before us. “Cugino mio, how are you?”
Jacopo looked exhausted, dark circles under his eyes, a patchy beard covering his jutting jawline. He was an attractive man usually, but he looked so haggard it was hard to believe he wasn’t even forty years old yet.
He surprised me by smiling warily at Dante then turning to give me the customary two kiss greeting, his hands warm on my shoulders as he squeezed them in silent comradery. Of all the men in Dante’s inner crew, I was the least close with him and it was pleasantly shocking to know he might have missed me while we were gone.
“Che piacare vederti,” he murmured as he moved back.
It’s good to see you.
I smiled at him. “We missed you.”
His smile was thin, but genuine. “Not as much as we missed you two, Tore, and Frankie. It’s been a shit show to say the least.”
“You’ll fill me in when we get back to the apartment,” Dante ordered, reprimanding Jaco with his gaze for swearing or talking about such things in front of Rora. “Let’s go in to see Marco.”
Marco and Bambi were clearly aware we’d arrive thanks to the ruckus Aurora had made in the hall and they were waiting for us placidly, as if they hadn’t just been having a lover’s quarrel.
“Miei amici,” Marco greeted, trying to be his usual robust self. “I can’t tell you how good it is to see you.”
“And we you,” Dante said, sitting at the edge of the bed with Aurora in his lap. “You lost your good looks while we were gone.”
Marco laughed.