Aw, fuck. I like that.
I whisper in her ear what happens to little girls who don’t do as they’re told, and she squirms adorably beside me. The music plays on.
A few yards in front of us I see Santo take a call. He turns quickly toward the house and marches away. A second later, I see Romeo reach for his phone, and he signals for Orlando and Mario.
Goddammit.
“Something’s going on,” Elise says to me quietly, while Mama laughs to my right, and waitstaff refill coffee cups.
I love that we’re on the same wavelength. It makes things… simpler.
Still. I can’t help but sigh.
“Yeah. Never a dull motherfuckin’ moment, is there?”
She laces her fingers through mine and squeezes. My heart squeezes in unison.
Elise gets me. She gets our life.
“Any idea what it is?” she asks quietly. “Any little thread or inkling of what travesty or beatdown or lucrative deal or whatever it is now?”
She makes me smile even as I shake my head. “Nope. You?”
“Well, it was kind of weird. I saw Mario arguing with Natalia’s nanny. Do they know each other?”
I don’t know if they know each other but I’m going to find out. “No idea. Arguing about what?”
She shakes her head. “I don’t know, because Marialena was arguing with her bodyguard, and then Santo and Rosa got in on the mix.”
Jesus. What the hell is going on? “Everyone seems fine now.” She takes a sip of wine and nestles it back on the table.
“Maybe they’re playing nice because it’s our wedding day. We’re Italian. We argue for sport.”
Her lips twitch. “Didn’t stop Mario and Santo from practically knocking each other out for the last crostini.”
“Well, that’s nothing unusual, though. How’d they solve it?”
“Romeo literally cracked their heads together then ate it himself.”
I chuckle to myself, reach over, and drink the rest of her wine.
“Hey!”
But before I can respond, Romeo enters the back. He motions for security. They walk to him rapidly as the party goes on.
I get to my feet. I look to Elise. “I’m sorry, baby.”
“Don’t be,” she says, shaking her head. “Please, go find out. I want to know as much as you do.” I give her a parting kiss and head to Romeo.
“Rome.”
Romeo looks at me and sighs.
“It’s your wedding day, Tav.”
I shrug. We all know that all good things come to an end. And in our lives, that’s often sooner than later.
“Yeah, I know, but I don’t want you guys pussyfootin’ around me. What’s going on? Don’t keep me in the dark, brother.”
“You won’t believe this,” he says, running a hand through his hair. He looks away, as if he doesn’t want to tell me what’s bothering him. It’s unnerving.
“Romeo.”
His gaze swings back to me. He’s not usually one to skirt an issue but dives straight in. “Elise’s mother’s here.”
I blink in surprise. I expected him to say pretty much anything but that.
“Her… mother?” That’s the last thing I expected. “Just showed up,” I say, feeling my anger rise. “No contact, no phone call, no goddamn email?”
Romeo nods with a scowl. “Exactly. And she’s… well, let’s just say she’s no Elise.”
“Fuck. Where is she?”
“Orlando and Mario have her in the Great Hall. She’s insisting on coming in here to see you and her daughter, but we didn’t want her just barging in here and ruining everything. Plus, you know, we haven’t run a damn background check on her, nothing. I have no idea who she’s with, if she has any alliances or enemies. Nothing.”
I frown. It isn’t nothing. I’m skilled in connecting the dots. Even in sleep, my mind puzzles pieces together, and this one feels as if it’s finally taking form, like I’ve formed the outline and the small, irregular pieces are starting to make a picture.
A dead body in Tuscany. A vacated building. Her family in Lombardo, and an estranged mother. Somehow… somehow it all fits.
But first, we have to deal with her mother.
“So we have two choices, then.”
“Yep.”
“Escort her off this property, or keep her in check and bring Elise to her.”
“Exactly.”
I shove my hands in my pockets and think this over. I glance back at my gorgeous, beautiful bride, who sits in the pavilion with the beach behind her. She smiles at me and raises her glass. I smile back.
“I’ll go talk to her mother first.” Then I remember who I’m talking to. “Sorry, man. You know sometimes I get carried away. Can I go talk to her mother?”
“She’s your family now, man. Go. This is your call.”
I hate this. Our one perfect day, marred by her family that will not leave us the fuck alone.
As we walk from the pavilion to the Great Hall, I ask Romeo to give me the rundown.
“What do we know about her?”
“Just that she was estranged from Elise’s father. He gave her an ample trust, per their pre-nup. They never divorced, so she wasn’t entitled to all of it, but she’s been living pretty well on his dime.”
“And when he died?”
“Well that’s just it, Tavi.” He shakes his head. “The woman’s going on and on about being owed money, how half of what Elise owns is hers, blah blah fucking blah.”
Jesus. I’m glad Elise isn’t here for this, not yet.
Since the pavilion sits at the back of the house, we have to walk past the kitchen, meeting rooms, dungeon, and library before we get to the main meeting rooms in the house. When I pass the kitchen pantry, I hear her voice.
She’s screaming her goddamn head off.
“What the fuck?” I mutter to Romeo.
If this were literally anyone else but Anna Regazza, she’d be on thin, thin ice. As it is, we’re not going to roll out the red carpet.
I can hear her voice clear as day when we draw closer.
“You will let me see my daughter!” I enter the room to see two guards holding a woman dressed in a formal black gown that’s form-fitting and tight, more suitable for Vegas than her daughter’s wedding. Her dark brown hair’s in a loose bun at the nape of her neck. She has her daughter’s same amber-colored eyes, but they’re colder and wild with thick, black lashes underscored with vivid eye makeup. She was beautiful once.
“Ah,” she says in a haughty tone. “And here comes the groom. How nice to meet you, Ottavio.” She yanks at her arms, but the guards don’t budge. “Please tell these behemoths to release your mother-in-law.”
“Wow,” Orlando mutters under his breath. “That’s one fuckin’ wedding present, bro, eh?”
Mario snickers. I ignore him.
Oddly, Santo’s not here.
“Anna,” I say as politely as I can. I bow my head to her. “So pleased to meet you.” She is, after all, my wife’s mother. “Please understand, we didn’t expect you here. We run a full background check on any guest who visits our property, and you weren’t on the list, so we have to take precautions.”