“We will, Massimo. I’ll try everything I can to make you happy,” I whisper.
He shakes his head, his lips turning up into a smile, one that still doesn’t reach his eyes. I feel a bit defeated that I still can’t get a true smile from him. I know that it’s only been a few days, but I want it, I want it more than even I realize.
“You already do, Pippa,” he rasps.
My lips tip into a small smile as I bring the glass to them. Massimo lifts his glass to his lips as well and we both take a sip. Setting the glass down, I can’t wait to dig into the food that he’s brought home.
Reaching for a piece of bread, I pull my hand back and sit on it instead.
“Pippa?” Massimo asks.
Lifting my eyes to his, I shake my head once. “I shouldn’t. The pasta is enough carbs,” I say with a small smile.
Massimo reaches for the bread before he stands to his feet. I stab my fork into my roasted squash, lifting it to my lips as he walks around the table, bread in hand. Frowning, I chew my food before he sinks down to his haunches in front of me.
Swallowing my squash, I look down at him. “Open,” he softly demands.
Without hesitation, without even thinking, I do exactly as he asks. My lips part and I open my mouth. He tears off a chunk of the bread and holds it up to my lips.
“Bread is not an enemy, Pippa. Food should be eaten to fuel your body. You need it to survive. It’s obvious your aunt has fucked you up in more than one way. She’s played with your mind, made you think that you need to be sickly thin. You don’t, dolcezza. You need to be healthy for the baby I intend to fill you with.”
My breath hitches from his words. I had almost forgotten or maybe purposely put the concept of pregnancy and babies out of my head. The reality is that we haven’t used protection once since we’ve been married and I very well could be pregnant already.
Taking the bread from him, I chew, my eyes never leaving his. Swallowing, I watch him. He doesn’t move, his eyes searching my own for a moment.
He lifts his hand, wrapping his fingers around the front of my throat. I hold my breath, waiting to see what he’s going to say or do next. He’s so damn unpredictable. His other hand cups my cheek and his thumb slides over my lips, just a gentle brush, obviously not wishing to mess up my lipstick with the move.
“You’re beautiful, Pippa. Most beautiful creature I’ve ever laid eyes on. I hope you realize that.”
He doesn’t say anything else. His hand drops from my neck and I watch as he straightens and makes his way back over to his seat. Neither of us speaks for a while. My gaze flicks from my food to him as he eats across the table from me.
Squirming in my seat, I wonder how watching a man eat could be so sexy? He chews and I almost moan as he works the food down his sexy throat, then he drinks some wine and it starts all over again.
“Pippa?” he asks, his voice deep and rough.
Inhaling a deep breath, I shake my head. “You already know about my parents, where are yours?” I chance asking.
His brows rise and a scowl appears on his face. I expect him to tell me absolutely nothing about his family solely based on the look he’s wearing, but he surprises me.
“My mother was a comaré. You know what that is, yes?”
“I do,” I whisper.
A side piece, a mistress, whatever you want to label them, the men in the mafia usually have at least one, possibly more. They also create entire families with them. Just another reason I never wanted to marry a Made Man. But, here I am.
“She was killed. Shot in the middle of the street. There was war, she was a bystander. My father had no choice but to take me in, and his wife had no choice but to raise me.”
“Massimo,” I whisper.
He shakes his head. “She was nice to me when my father was around, which was rarely. The rest of the time she acted as though I didn’t exist. I’m sure she hated me because of what I represented. I have no doubt she was angry that she was forced to raise me, had to pretend to the world that she loved me as her own. She couldn’t have her own children, you see?”
“That’s awful.”
Massimo nods. “It is, but my father didn’t make it bearable, he didn’t make things better after my mother died. Instead, he just found another woman to keep in an apartment. He openly dated her, which only made his wife angrier.”
I press my lips together for a moment, my eyes searching his and realizing that this is one reason he doesn’t fully smile. He has had a rough start to his life, he hasn’t felt love like he should have.
“He’s since retired and thankfully moved away. I haven’t seen him in years. His wife, she passed away about ten years ago from cancer.”
A thought floods my mind, maybe Massimo truly doesn’t know how to smile?
I decide right here and now that I’m going to show him. I’m going to teach him how to laugh and smile, not just go through the motions, but really do it. I’m determined, and when I set my mind to something, there is no stopping me.
Chapter Sixteen
MASSIMO
Luca is standing next to the small door of the bakery. This is one of the best bakeries in town, probably in the state if I were to be honest. They stayed small for decades when they probably could have expended a dozen times over. The old man passed
