You Wanted an Ornament, You Got a Mafia Queen Chapter 02

You Wanted an Ornament, You Got a Mafia Queen Chapter 02

Maybe he realized he’d pushed too hard.

Marco came to my side, put both hands on my shoulders, and leaned down to speak low in my ear.

“It’s the family’s big night. Can we not do this here? Come upstairs with me. I brought you something back from Vegas.”

I stood up and stepped out of his reach.

“Nobody’s making a scene. Whatever you’ve got going on, it has nothing to do with me.”

Then I turned to Grandfather Giovanni.

“Grandpa, I’ll head out now.”

He looked at me like he didn’t want to let me go.

“Alright. But you know you can always come to me, no matter what.”

My eyes got warm. I nodded.

Marco watched the exchange and frowned, like he was trying to work something out.

Then he seemed to land on an answer, and he laughed.

“Grandpa, you just spoil her rotten, don’t you?”

“With you backing her up, she’s going to be watching my every move. Not an inch of freedom.”

Nobody laughed. Not even the senior family members who usually played along.

They just looked down at their plates.

Don Giovanni didn’t acknowledge him. Just said, flatly:

“Dinner’s over.”

Bianca had shed her earlier awkwardness. She was chatty now.

“Ms. Monteiro, I’m not sure exactly how I offended you, but I want to apologize regardless. Marco works so hard. Please don’t keep going to his grandfather and getting him in trouble. I just—”

I raised a hand and stopped her.

“You didn’t offend me. And I didn’t run to anyone. If you care about him that much, why not just marry into the Santoro family properly? You wouldn’t have to keep going around in circles looking for excuses.”

Bianca’s face crumpled. Tears slid down.

“I never—”

“Okay, that’s enough.” Marco produced a handkerchief and handed it to Bianca.

“You don’t get to use your family name as a pass to insult people. You have zero grace.”

I looked at his face, still as sharp and handsome as ever, and felt a dull, quiet ache.

Twenty years of knowing each other. Ten years of being in love.

And this is how he sees me.

It didn’t matter anymore.

Marco was still murmuring comfort to Bianca.

I walked out.

I made it to the front yard and stopped.

There was a swing by the garden.

Marco had built it for me when we were eighteen.

“This swing’s got your name on it now. Nobody sits here but you, not even Grandpa.”

“For real? Then go get a little plaque made. Elysia’s Spot. Official.”

“Yes ma’am. Whatever Elysia wants, Elysia gets.”

An arm came around my shoulder. I looked over.

Marco, eyes warm, face the same as all those years ago.

For a second I almost forgot where I was.

“Who said you could leave? You promised we’d go try on the dress. You’ve lost weight, we’ll probably have to get it altered anyway.”

I was about to respond.

“Oh wow, that swing is so pretty! Marco, will you push me? Pretty please?”

Bianca was already sitting on it before she finished asking.

Marco hesitated, caught my expressionless face, and then smiled.

“Sure. Fair warning, I push hard. Don’t scream.”

He stepped behind her and put his hands on her shoulders.

“Ready? Here we go.”

The same words. But in my memory, the voice was lighter. Brighter.

“Want to go higher, Elysia?”

“Yes! Push as hard as you want. I’m not scared.”

“Sure about that? Last time you were wailing the whole way down. Your legs gave out and I had to carry you back.”

“I’m totally used to it now. It’ll be different this time!”

…

Bianca’s scream pulled me back.

“Getting scared?” Marco asked.

“Yes! Okay! Please stop!”