Total pages in book: 58
Estimated words: 56365 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 282(@200wpm)___ 225(@250wpm)___ 188(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 56365 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 282(@200wpm)___ 225(@250wpm)___ 188(@300wpm)
“The logic’s sound,” Dario agrees, scooting his chair close and wrapping his arm around me. “But there’s something deeper than logic here: devotion, love, dedication, and certainty.”
“Certainty,” I repeat, tears pricking my eyes.
“There’s one last thing we must settle,” Salvatore says. “Elena, do you know what my son truly is? Has he told you?”
“I’ve seen,” I whisper. “A man was going to do terrible things to me. Then Dario did terrible things to him instead.”
“You weren’t afraid?”
“I was. I still am, on some level, but my love is much stronger than my fear.”
“After hearing that, how can you stand in their way?” Maria asks. “Are you going to exile Dario and tear this Family apart?”
“That’s not fair, Mother,” Dario says. “Father didn’t force me to fall in love with Elena. He didn’t force me to tell him. I’m the one who brought this to the table.”
“He’s right,” Salvatore says, “but you’ve made some valid points, son. I’d never say anything like this outside of this room, but I fear I’ve allowed the opinions of others to rule me for far too long.”
“Thank you, Father,” Dario says, excitement bubbling up in his voice. His tone gets me smiling more broadly, with more carefree energy than I ever felt or imagined I could feel in this dining room.
“Yes, Mr. Moretti,” I say. “Thank you so much!”
“Don’t thank me,” Salvatore says. “Thank Maria for making me see sense and Dario for his logic. You, Elena, also played your part.”
“I did?”
“I’ve been trying to ignore it, but even during our first dinner, I saw how you looked at my son. I tried to pretend I didn’t notice it, tried to pretend it was nothing, but Maria is right. I know real love when I see it. It’s the same thing I experienced when walking down the street as a young man full of impossible dreams; I looked down and saw a beggar.”
“Nobody else would’ve looked twice,” Maria whispers, tears filling her eyes. “You did more than look, Salvie. You stared into my soul, into my heart. You saw something in me nobody else ever could have.”
“You did the same,” Salvatore says. “You’ve never stopped bringing out those pieces of me. If it weren’t for you, I’d be a grumpy, overworked old man, but you give me life.”
Maria leans across the table to kiss her husband. “I love you.”
“I love you too.”
Dario turns to me with a smile. His eyes gleam, but not with the energy of a savage this time, not with the aura of a man who’s ready to shoot, hit, and kill. He looks like what he was never supposed to be for real—my future husband.
“Father, would you excuse us?”
“That’s funny,” Salvatore says. “I was about to ask you the same thing.”
We all laugh, and then Dario stands up and sweeps me into his arms. Putting his arm around me, he leads me into the hallway, out of sight, and pulls me into an intense hug. He holds me close, pressing his body against mine. I press my face against his chest, inhaling his scent, his realness, his permanence.
“I love you so much,” I say, only realizing I’m sobbing when I hear how choked my voice is.
“I love you too,” he replies, his voice flooded with passion.
“I just can’t believe it. I keep expecting to wake up in that farmhouse. None of this will be real. It can’t be, can it? We keep saying it. This is real life, not a movie or a book. We can’t get everything we want. Life just doesn’t work that way.”
“We’ve got something special,” he says. “Something so many people will go their entire lives without experiencing. Something most people only read about in fairy tales.”
He clasps my face in his hands, looking down at me with love burning from every part of him. His eyes blaze. His lips tremble as if he, too, is holding back tears.
“What?” I whisper.
“A happily ever after,” he says, then laughs as if he can’t believe a hardened mafioso like him just said something like that. “And I don’t care how lame—”
“Lame or not, it’s true,” I cut in, standing on my tiptoes and bringing my lips to his. “We’re in this together, Dario—forever.”
“Forever,” he repeats as our lips meet in a burning clash of love and belonging.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
DARIO
“Iknow you didn’t approve at first, Miss Santoro,” I say, sitting beside Rosa’s bed.
Over the past week, her health has taken a definite upward trajectory. No recovery will ever be miraculous, but watching my woman become more optimistic has been one of the greatest joys of my life. Just last night, when we were lying sweaty and content in bed, she said, “She’s becoming her old self. I don’t want to get my hopes up, but…” We both share that sentiment, not getting our hopes up, but we can’t help it. Our hopes are flying.