“And anyone that does is swiftly and duly punished,” Mario completes for me.
“Right,” I breathe. We haven’t dealt much with the punishment aspect of things, something that does go quite hard against my training and instincts, but I find after a few weeks of working together, they’ve made the decision to shield me from most of that. I don’t complain.
Romeo tried to get high-handed with me when I was first initiated. “You know I’m doing this under duress,” he said dryly to Mario. “I’m counting on you to keep her in line.”
I bristled at that, but it turns out I didn’t have to. Mario rose to my defense immediately.
“Ah, no, that ain’t how it works with her and you know it. Yeah, she ain’t gonna disobey the basic rules we have, the basic structure and accountability.”
“I mean those vows I took!” I tell him, unable to hide the passion in my tone. I meant every word.
“I know,” Romeo says gently. “That’s not in question.”
“Did you hire me on my merits or did you not?” I demand.
“You know we did, but you further know that marrying Mario will give him a leg-up in his family. So I daresay your decision to marry him was a very calculated move.”
“As was your marriage to Vittoria.”
The room goes quiet. Mario’s hand on my elbow grows still. But after long seconds pass, Romeo grins, actually grins, and shakes his head at me.
“Touché, detective.” And from then on, he never calls me by my new name, but always “detective.” Mario thinks it’s cute. I think it’s a sign of respect.
The Rossis do call me in on cases, and often. I love that they do. Between my attention to detail and experience, I truly feel like I’m an asset to the team. Mario beams when I’m able to put my skills to good use and better yet, when I need to draw a weapon and use those skills. He’s so proud of me it’s adorable.
But even though he gives me wide latitude… even though he’s proud of me and knows I’m independent and fierce… he stays one step ahead of me. I knew this about him and knew it when I agreed to marry him.
And he never misses a chance to remind me.
We’ve made the room where we first made love into a room of our own. It’s larger and more spacious than the rest, but above all, it’s remote. And we like our privacy. We enjoy the ease of walking downstairs to meals or meetings, but we like to retreat from the craziness of it all for a while and just be together. Just the two of us.
One morning at breakfast, Mama announces I’m going shopping with all the girls. “You’re not allowed to go out without a guard,” Mario reminds them. “Especially you.” He points a stern finger at me.
“Now, Mario,” Mama says, placing her hand on his shoulder. “Your betrothed is a gun-carrying member of your mob. What more could you want?”
He concedes, but only when my bodyguard goes with us.
But when we’re alone… just the two of us… my hair comes down. I slide into his lap. And then I’m his babygirl and he’s all Daddy.
Tonight, I sit on his lap and he holds me to his chest.
“I love seeing you tell off Romeo,” he says.
“I try not to push too hard.”
He pinches my ass. “You don’t. I’d let you know if you did. But you keep him on his toes, and we love you for that.”
“Your father would’ve hated me,” I say, lacing my fingers with his.
He nods. “He hated everyone but himself,” he responds.
“I’m glad I never had to meet him.”
“Me, too. Though I’d have liked to meet your father. Tell me about him.”
So I do. I sit on his lap and tell him about my father, how he took me to work with him and showed me how to hold a gun, how he taught me to make spaghetti and taught me to love classic eighties rock. How he never downplayed my complaints when I told him someone was unfair at school, and how he always encouraged me to fight for justice.
Someone has to, he would say. And I’m proud it’s my daughter who’s the warrior.
“And I’m glad you’re mine,” Mario says, kissing my cheek.
“It’s so damn sexy when you say that.”
“What else is sexy?”
“When you hold your gun. When we go to target practice together. When you lay me over your lap and spank me. When you go all stern daddy on me. Need I go on?”
He’s feeling me up, fingering my nipples, weighing my breasts in his hands. “Go on.”
He tugs the top of my dress down and suckles a nipple. My hips buck underneath him and my eyes flutter closed.
“I love it when you…” my voice is shimmering, drowning in sexual pleasure. “Drive fast. I love watching you race your cars and someday I hope to do it with you.”