One of the many gifts my wife possesses is that she can still stay sweet and bubbly while drawing blood with a smile on her face. You really don’t see it coming.
“Just know that I can take care of myself. Your focus needs to be on whatever the surprise is.” I watch as my wife reaches down to the hem of her dress, discretely pulling it up to her mid-thigh, revealing to me that she has on garters. Tucked into the top of one is a small knife. Fuck I love this woman.
“Both dazzling and dangerous. How did I get so lucky?” That gets me a smile. I lean over, tracing the top of the garter while placing a kiss on her mouth.
“You really did. Tonight, when we get home, I’ll show you just how lucky.” She breaks the kiss, pulling her dress back down. “But for now, you need to take care of things.”
It’s not long before the car is pulling up to the venue where everyone is meeting us. I lean over, taking Cosima’s mouth one last time. I don’t bother saying any mushy shit because even though there's a lot on the line tonight, I know without a doubt that we’ll be coming out the other side.
“Ready?” I ask, breaking the kiss.
“It’s showtime,” Cosima states in dramatic fashion. I step out of the car, holding my hand out for her to take. I can tell from the vehicles parked outside with drivers waiting that most have arrived. Lightning flickers across the sky. “A storm is coming.” How fitting. She leans into my side, peeking up at me.
Cosima gives me a cheeky smile. “I love dancing in the rain.”
I'll dance with my wife until the end of forever.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
COSIMA
There is already a thread of tension when we enter the old Italian restaurant. The setting pulls me straight back to Italy. I’m surprised I’ve never been here before. The place is beautiful.
“How come we’ve never come here before?” I ask Z.
“It’s been closed for many years.”
“Oh.” There are fresh linens on the tables. There are only a handful of them. I thought they might have cleared out the space, opening it up for the private dinner. “So it’s just been sitting here?” Seems a waste.
“Yes, your father shut it down.” I don’t get a chance to ask Z why. Kimmy is coming over to greet me. She is the second and way younger wife to the head of the Cornaro family. I have always enjoyed her company. It can be challenging to sift through who is genuine and who isn’t in this lifestyle.
“I’ll get you a drink,” Z says, kissing my shoulder. I nod while waving Tova over to introduce her to Kimmy. The Cornaros hadn’t made it to her wedding. Even if they had, they probably wouldn’t have met her because my brother, War, was being super protective of her that night. He barely introduced her to anyone, thinking they would try to use her against him.
“You and Z?” Kimmy asks.
We all make small talk, but my eyes drift around the room. There are a lot of powerful families here. What does stand out to me is when Sal and his father walk through the doorway, they are technically a lower-tier family in rankings. In a way, it makes them stick out. Even Kimmy's brows pull together when she sees them. They’ve never really been invited to the table before.
“Z and Sal had an issue a few weeks ago,” I fill in for her.
“Ahh.” Kimmy nods. “Oh, that makes sense. Sal has had a thing for you.”
“Let’s be honest. He has a thing for my last name.”
I’ll never have to worry about that with me being married to Z. He’s here for me; in fact, I could be the very reason he sticks around.
“He’s coming this way,” Tova says under her breath. I’d already clocked Sal heading toward me.
“Cosima, you’re as breathtaking as ever.” Sal is incredibly cocky as he takes my hand and kisses it. His eyes lock on my finger. I’m not wearing my ring on a necklace tonight. It’s been back on my finger since Z put it there. “You’re married.” I pull my hand back.
I can feel Z’s eyes on me. “Yes,” I answer. Z stands across the room next to War and a few other men. He makes no move to come over and break me away, despite Sal being near me. Interesting. I go with the flow, trusting whatever Z has planned.
“Z doesn’t waste time, does he?”
“Not sure I agree there. We have been waiting many years for this.” I tell the truth, not wanting anyone to think any different.
“You grew up together. It’s?—”
“Watch your tongue,” I warn. Sal’s jaw flexes, his eyes staying locked with mine. I don’t break eye contact with him, staring right back. I had a fiery mom growing up. She taught me to assert myself. I might be a pretty face to someone like Sal, a girlwho should know her place, but I don’t live by those old-school rules. I’m not going to keep my mouth shut.