Matteo’s parents live about an hour north of Chicago. The cosmopolitan, bustling city with all its high rises and concrete slowly gives way to wide-open spaces scattered with red-barned farms as the limo travels down the highway. Trees in the middle of turning fiery red, breathtaking orange and deep, rich yellows dot the landscape. It’s an idyllic sight. I’m reminded of how much I missed the change in seasons while living in Seattle. Driving through the countryside during autumn is one of life’s little pleasures.
Leaving the freeway, we head east on country roads toward Lake Michigan until we turn onto a private road flanked by mature trees. We stop at the guardhouse to gain clearance. The driver speaks with security before the gate is opened, and we’re allowed on to the property.
I may have been distracted by Matteo before leaving the condo, and I was certainly busy reciprocating the favor on the way over, but now I’m reminded that Matteo’s family is unlike any other I have come across.
It’s one that has guards in place and takes security seriously.
As we roll toward the lake, the thick greenery opens to reveal a magnificent stone mansion nestled among lush, gently rolling hills that are perfectly manicured. The breath stalls in my lungs as I stare at it with wide eyes. I think Matteo referred to the estate as a compound. He wasn’t lying. It’s massive.
My parents came from money, and we had a very nice house here in Chicago and then in Seattle, and Dominic has a gorgeous house on the North Shore, but they’re nothing compared to the sight before me. I’m bowled over by the sheer size of it. It’s as if someone took a country manor house in England and dropped it down on this beautiful piece of land near the water.
“This is where you grew up?” I shake my head in amazement. I imagine it would take at least a day to explore all the nooks and crannies of this place.
“Yes. Welcome to the Valentini family compound.”
A shiver of apprehension skitters through me as the limousine continues to our destination. When we’re about half a mile away, I notice cars parked in the circular drive and along the side of the road. There’s at least forty of them.
“This house has stood for over a hundred years. During prohibition, my family used the lake for bootlegging. It was an easy place to hide liquor. The property was so far out in the country, that it was considered safe.” He smirks. “A hideout.”
“That’s really interesting.” I can picture the period in time he’s describing. Sure, it only took us an hour to drive here, but in the early nineteen hundreds, it would have taken the better part of a day. The estate would have been difficult to access.
He gives a little shrug. “There’s a lot of interesting history here at the house. Perhaps later, we’ll take a tour.”
I smile. “I would love that.”
My eyes fasten on to the house. I can’t help the nervousness bubbling up inside me. Matteo slips an arm around my body and pulls me on to his lap. The closer we get, the more massive and overwhelming the building becomes. Gently he presses his lips against my temple.
“Don’t worry. They’ll adore you.” He adds, “Just as I do.”
Is he crazy? Of course, I’m going to worry. I’m riddled with anxiety. Meeting someone’s parents for the first time is nerve-wracking enough without layering on everything else I know about them.
“Have you told them anything about me?” I have no idea what Matteo might have said. Maybe nothing at all. Maybe they think I’m nothing more than a random girl he’s bringing along today.
That thought makes my belly churn even more than it was moments ago.
“I told them that I was seeing a woman who is smart, beautiful, and strong.”
Surprised, I rip my gaze away from the house. “Is that how you see me?” I ask, looking at him.
It’s not how I view myself, especially with the toll the last two years have taken. Much of the time, I feel like a baby bird nursing a broken wing. As if I constantly have to fight through the pain just to push forward.
Just to persevere.
And yet, when I’m with Matteo, it doesn’t feel that way at all. The dull throbbing pain, the heartache that continually gnaws at me, falls away.
His brows furrow. “How could I not?” His fingers stroke over my face. “You’re gorgeous. You captured my attention from the moment I stepped onto the elevator. I couldn’t get you out of my head, no matter how much I tried. Even with all that you have lost, you’re still warm, ever willing to open yourself up to new things and take chances with your life. You’ve been to hell and back, but that hasn’t changed who you are at the core. You’ve moved across the country to start a new life. You’re attending a prestigious university, working toward fulfilling your dreams.” His eyes turn curious. “How could I not find all that incredibly sexy?” He sweeps his thumb across my lower lip. “As much as your beauty and strength turn me on, it’s what is up here,” his fingertips tap the side of my head before dropping to my heart, “and here that I find most fascinating.”
His words leave me breathless. Lifting my lips, I seek out his. We break apart when the car comes to a stop.
“Mmmm.” He smiles devilishly. “That needy look in your eyes… I like that most of all.”
Heat blooms in my cheeks as I try to compose myself. In a matter of minutes, I’ll meet his family. I have no idea how long this relationship will last, but I want them to like me.
Victor opens the door for us. Matteo slides out first and reaches in to assist me. I self-consciously sweep a hand over my dress, immediately remembering that I’m not wearing underwear.
Pulling me closer, Matteo whispers against my hair, “All day I’ll be thinking about you bare under that demure dress. Can you still feel the imprint of my hand upon your perfect little backside?”
My cheeks pinken at the reminder of what he did an hour ago. And at how much I enjoyed him bending me over and assaulting my bottom. I squirm and he lets loose a low chuckle that arrows to my core.
“Perhaps I’ll check in a bit.”
“Don’t you dare!” I intend for the words to come out sounding crisp and haughty. Instead they’re breathy and full of need. Most of the time, I feel ill-equipped to deal with a man like Matteo. As if I’m no match for him. As if I will never be a match for him.
Matteo hands me the flowers I brought for his mother before we head to the house. The door swings open as Matteo reaches for the handle. As soon as I catch sight of the grand foyer, all the commotion from inside comes spilling out. In a house this magnificent, I expect a butler to greet newcomers since I’m sure the hosts are busy circulating among their guests. Instead, I find a tiny woman with inky black hair and a face full of laugh lines. Her eyes settle on the man next to me as she smiles ear to ear.
“Matteo!”
I watch as the woman envelops him in her thin arms. She’s so petite and he’s so tall. Matteo practically swallows her up with his size. It’s an endearing exchange. He holds her close for a long moment until she pulls away. Then she turns dark eyes toward me.
I stand frozen in place, wondering how this is going to play out. A hundred different scenarios flit through my head. All of them make me wish I had stayed home.
Aren’t Italian mothers supposed to be overly protective of their sons?
I’ve been so busy thinking about the family business and all it entails, that I didn’t give much thought to whether they would even want me here.
She swiftly moves in my direction the second she sees me. Without a word, she enfolds me in her arms as if we’ve known one another our entire lives.
“You’re just as beautiful as my son claimed.”
I glance at Matteo. His lips lift as if he knows that I’m uncomfortable with this stranger holding me so close. And yet there’s something comforting about being held by a woman who’s old enough to be my own mother. Part of me wants to sink into her warm embrace and soak up the affection she’s showering on me. It’s been so long since I’ve been held by another woman.
Pulling away, I smile. “Thank you.”
She grins broadly. “I’m Teresa. You may call me that or Mama.”
I couldn’t possibly refer to Matteo’s mother as Mama. What to call her swirls through my head as more people trickle into the foyer. Hugs are exchanged, slaps on the back are given, and introductions are made.
“Welcome to our home,” Teresa says. “We’re thrilled you could join us!”
“Thank you so much for having me.” I hand over the small bouquet I picked up from the store. “Congratulations on your anniversary.”
Taking the flowers, she buries her nose in them and inhales deeply. “Thank you, they’re lovely. Matteo must have mentioned how much I enjoy having fresh flowers around the house.” I’m breathing a quick sigh of relief that I’ve made it over the first hurdle when she takes firm hold of my hand. “Come, there are many people who would like to meet you.”
Surprise and confusion color my voice. “There are?”
“Of course!” She gives me a knowing look and lowers her voice. “It’s not often that my son brings home a woman. And such a beautiful one, at that!”
I almost snort in disbelief, but rein it in at the last moment. I don’t want to offend this wonderful woman.
I’ve seen the type of woman Matteo goes out with. They look like supermodels. I, on the other hand, look nothing of the sort. All the photographs Dominic had taken flash through my mind.
I know what Matteo said in the limo, but still, doubt creeps in at the edges.
She nods approvingly to her son. An amused smile tugs at the corners of Matteo’s lips. He’s on the cusp of laughing. I narrow my eyes at him. He’s lucky he got a blow-job on the way over because he won’t be getting one during the ride home.
“I’m going to take Grace around and introduce her to the family.” She waves a hand at him. “I’ll return her later.”
Um… what?
I throw a pleading look over my shoulder before being dragged through the house and then out to the patio where most of the guests have congregated. A huge white tent has been set up on the lawn. Little girls in over-the-top fluffy dresses and boys in polos and pressed khakis race around squealing and laughing. There must be at least a hundred and fifty people in attendance. Waiters and waitresses in black uniforms pass around silver platters loaded with food and beverages. A girl stops by with a tray of drinks. Teresa grabs two flutes and hands one to me.
“Champagne,” she says, taking a sip.
Nervous about being hijacked by Matteo’s mother, I hold the glass to my lips and take a taste. As I do, people flock to Teresa. She greets each one of them warmly, making a point to introduce me to everyone as if I’m an honored guest. It feels surreal, like being stuck in a never-ending reception line at a wedding. I’m not used to so many strangers pressing in on me. Most of the people Teresa presents me to are related to the Valentinis in one way or another. It could be distantly, three or four cousins removed, but it doesn’t make a difference. Here, everyone is family and made to feel welcome.
It boggles my mind just how large this family is. After a while, faces begin to swim before my eyes. I have no idea where Matteo is. Feeling overwhelmed, I plaster a smile on my face while continuing to shake hands politely. At least an hour passes by when a tall, curvy woman with an exotic face and long hair links her arm through mine.
“Mama, I’m going to take Grace to get some food.”
A smiling Teresa waves us off. It’s easy to see that she’s in her element and enjoys being surrounded by family and friends. “Good idea, Sofia. Make her a plate. I’m sure she must be starving.”
Sofia whisks me over to a long, rectangular-shaped table laden with every kind of Italian dish. Pastas, meats, seafood, soups, antipasto, salads, and breads beckon to me. A separate table holds an array of delicious looking desserts. I feel just as overwhelmed by the food choices as I did by the amount of people I’ve met today.
The younger woman gives my arm a gentle squeeze to capture my attention. “We met earlier.” She smiles. “You probably don’t remember.”
“I’m sorry, I don’t, “I admit. “There are so many people, it’s all kind of a blur.”
She laughs. It’s a deep, husky sound. “I’m Sofia, Matteo’s younger sister.”
That explains why she’s so beautiful. “It’s nice to meet you.”
I glance over at Teresa, who is still greeting people, laughing and hugging everyone she comes in contact with. In all the scenarios that ran through my head earlier, I never imagined that Matteo’s family would go out of their way to make me feel at home. “Your mother is wonderful.” Being at her side for the last hour has made me long for my own mother. It’s hard not to miss Mom when I’m around someone so warm and nurturing as Teresa.
“She is,” Sofia agrees without hesitation. “She’s ecstatic that Matteo has finally brought a woman home to meet her.”
I shouldn’t pry…
“That doesn’t happen very often?”
She snorts. I don’t know her at all, but I like her easy, carefree manner. “Are you kidding? The closest we get is the occasional photograph that turns up in a magazine of him at some event or function with a skinny socialite on his arm.” She gives me one of those looks. “I’m sure you know the type.”
Yes, I most certainly do. I have about a dozen pictures of Matteo with women who look like that.
She arches a brow. “Hardly the kind of girl you take home to meet your mother.” She nods at her parents. I notice that her father, Enzo, has joined Teresa. His arm is wrapped around his wife. Looking content, she leans her head against him. They look happy together.
And so completely normal.
It’s hard to believe that the people I’ve met today are involved in underground criminal activities. Being here with them, being so easily accepted by them, makes me feel more conflicted.
Pushing those thoughts away, I force a smile.
“Exactly how did you and Matteo meet? My brother tells us nothing.”
Part of me wonders how honest I should be with Sofia. If her brother wanted them to know about our relationship, wouldn’t he fill them in himself?
“We both live at Lexington Place. We ran into one another in the elevator and…” my voice trails off as I remember my first glimpse of Matteo and how enamored I was.
It’s been two months, and those feelings have yet to wear off. I doubt they ever will.
“I love that!” Stepping closer, she rubs her palms together as her voice drops. “Now tell me more.”
Her laid-back manner puts me at ease. I chuckle. As close-mouthed as Matteo is, his sister seems to be the opposite. It’s a refreshing change. I know that if given half a chance, we could be friends.
As I open my mouth to ask a question of my own, a fine shiver races across my flesh right before a set of hands settle on my shoulder. I don’t have to turn around to know who they belong to because I’m so attuned to him.
“I hope you’re not badgering Grace with questions,” Matteo says with a hint of amusement.
His sister’s eyes light up with mischief. “Of course I was. How could I possibly resist the opportunity?”
Not wanting to encourage her, I stifle my laughter by biting my lower lip.
I can only guess at Matteo’s expression, but I hear exasperation in his deep voice. “Keep it up, and this will be the first and last time you see her.”
Unaffected by his words, she continues teasingly with, “So what you’re really saying is that even if we don’t see Grace, you will.”
I turn my head in an attempt to gauge his reaction. He’s not looking at Sofia, though. His eyes have already settled on mine. A possessive look fills them.
“Yes, I would have to say so.”
Despite what I know about him and his family, I can’t stop the tiny bubbles of happiness that burst within me in response to his answer.
Ignoring her brother, Sofia says, “I’ll give you my number before you leave. That way we can grab lunch in the city.”
Matteo groans, as if the notion of me spending any time alone with his sister is painful. This only brightens Sofia’s smile. Before he can say anything more, she gives a little wave and disappears into the crowd of friends and relatives.
Matteo’s arms slide around me, pulling me close. We haven’t been together long, but being with him feels right. As if this is where I truly belong. Oblivious to all the noise and chaos surrounding us, we stay wrapped up in one another.
I sigh contentedly and look around the tent, taking in all the people who have gathered to help Teresa and Enzo celebrate their anniversary.
The Valentinis are nothing like what I imagined. Maybe I’ve watched one too many Godfather movies. Maybe I was expecting murder and mayhem, but these people are normal. They could be any close-knit family. If Matteo hadn’t confirmed the rumors himself, I don’t think I would have believed them. Part of me still wants to deny the truth.
As I watch silently from the sidelines, it’s obvious how much love is shared between them. I secretly long to be part of the madness.
“What are you thinking, bella?” His warm breath rustles the hair around my ear.
Shrugging, I give him a smile. “Just that you’re very lucky to be surrounded by all this family.”
His eyes never leave mine. “Yes, I am. Family is everything.”
Those words break my heart because mine is no longer here. I’ve never experienced anything like this before. It’s overwhelming, and yet I feel drawn to the chaos. I want to soak it up and be part of it. I don’t think Matteo understands how alone I feel.
Being surrounded by his family, all of whom have welcomed me with open arms into their home, exacerbates my despair because once I return downtown, I’ll be even more aware of my loneliness.
It’s a bitter pill to swallow and not something I want to discuss because it sounds like I’m indulging in a pity party for one. And I don’t want that. Not today. I want to enjoy the rest of the afternoon and Matteo’s company.
“Did you get a chance to eat?”
Relieved to leave those heavy thoughts behind, I shake my head. “No, not yet. But I’m starving.”
He gathers the hair from the side of my neck and presses a kiss to the delicate flesh. As always, his touch awakens hundreds of nerve endings within me. “I’m starving as well, but not for anything that’s being offered over there.”
A shiver slips down my spine as he continues to nibble at my neck. I remember that I’m completely bare under my dress.
“Perhaps later, we can take the tour I mentioned earlier, and I can spread those pretty thighs and have my dessert.”