"That was different." She waves a hand in the air. "He took her to repay a debt her father owed; she was his captive."
"Aurora is my—" I pause. If I say that Aurora is also my captive, Nonna will never agree to this wedding. As it is, based on the interrogation she subjected both of us to the last time we saw her, it’s clear that she doesn’t completely believe the story of our falling in love and rushing to get married. Now, if I tell her that Aurora is effectively my prisoner, that will effectively destroy this entire charade before it’s even started.
"Aurora is your..." Nonna fixes me with a shrew gaze. "What were you going to say."
"My bride-to-be," I force the words out, "the love of my life."
Aurora stiffens. She stares at me as if she can’t quite believe what I’m saying. Hell, I can’t believe the crap I’m about to spew, but what-fucking-ever. Apparently, dialogues from Hallmark movies are all the rage at Christmas time, and since my family has decided that Christmas this year will last well into the New Year, I may as well get into the fucking ho-ho-ho spirit here. Not to be confused with the only kind of ‘ho’ I’m familiar with—a word I dare not utter in Nonna’s company. Yes, yes, I know I used the 'F' word earlier, but insulting a woman by calling her 'ho' in front of my grandmother feels wrong, even for me.
Not that Nonna hasn’t heard it all. After all, bringing up seven boys means that she is well-accustomed to our rowdy language. Nonna has her faults, but what has never been in doubt is that she loves us. She may have stepped in a little late in yanking us out of the reach of our father and taking us to LA, but it has never been in doubt that she’ll do anything for us. She has always prioritized the lot of us. So, why has she decided to take the side of my fake fiancée right now? Unless, she suspects that our engagement is a fake and wants to catch us… But why would she do that? How would it benefit her to expose our plan? No. More likely she is doing it because she truly believes in the concept of staying apart until the wedding night.
"You’ll be allowed to visit her, of course." Nonna nods.
No shit.
"In the presence of a chaperone, of course."
"A what?" I glare at her, but the old woman doesn’t blink.
"You heard me, Christiano." She pins me with her don’t-fuck-with-me look. "We will follow the guidance of our forefathers in this."
"Fuck me," I mutter, "this is going to be the death of me, Nonna. You know that, right?"
"Oh, phst," she waves a hand in the air, "you kids dramatize everything. Now kiss your wife-to-be goodbye."
"What the hell does that mean? Aurora is leaving with me."
"Haven’t you heard anything I’ve said?" Nonna pronounces the words slowly as if I’m an idiot. Well, I must be, considering I am standing here and allowing an eighty-year-old woman to order me around.
"Aurora is coming with me." I scowl between the two of them. "Come on, Flower. You know that you want to be with me."
"No," Aurora tips up her chin, "I don’t want to come like that."
"Not what you were saying just a few hours ago..." I cover my mouth with my hand and cough. "I mean, surely, you don’t mean that. Wasn’t it you who said that you couldn’t stand to be away from me for even one second?"
"You must have been dreaming, my dear fiancée-to-be." Her lips curve up in a smile. "Besides, I ‘m seeing you at the family getaway very soon."
"Husband-to-be," I growl, "and it's tomorrow." I fold my arms across my chest. "We’re leaving on this goddamn outing tomorrow."
"We are?" Nonna scowls. "But we need to make preparations—"
"Basta," I hold up my hand. "Enough, Nonna. I’m allowing her to stay one night with you. That’s about all I’m going to be able to offer you right now. Take it or leave it."
Nonna seems like she is going to hesitate, then she nods. "We leave tomorrow. I’ll call Michael and tell him now."
"I'll arrange to have Aurora's clothes packed and sent over tonight, so there are no delays," I add.
"Gee, thanks," Aurora scoffs.
"Don't thank me yet." I close the distance between us, then lower my head and brush my lips to her forehead. "If I were you, I'd be careful about what you do next, Flower," I whisper. "After that stunt you pulled, there's a lot I have to punish you for already."
12
Christian
I glance out of the window of the private jet that I boarded with the rest of the family a half-hour ago.
Cortina is a day's drive from Palermo, but why drive when all of us can travel together in comfort?