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“What invitations?” she asked me.

“A change in the reception venue. I assure you both your father and my employer are keenly aware of why the alternate location was necessary.”

“Does that mean we’ll be sitting ducks?”

“That means we’ll be in one of the most well-protected areas in or around the small town. I do know what I’m doing, Carmella.”

“I know. Trust you. So you keep telling me.”

Every time she was defiant, I wanted to drag her over my knees, spanking her like a bad little girl. It was a strange yearning that had kept me awake a couple of nights. It all seemed to boil down to the dominating, carnal needs that didn’t make any good sense to the romantic I’d once been.

She was none too thrilled about the change, but from what I’d heard, she hadn’t wanted to be a part of the wedding planning process. Instead, she’d insisted on returning to her home in White Plains. What she didn’t know or hadn’t mentioned was that someone had been keeping an eye on both her and her son the entire time.

I’d driven down on one occasion, hoping I’d learn more about the life she’d chosen. What I’d found had brought me to a nightmare of reflection. White Plains was similar to the area I’d grown up in. Large enough, but with a quaint feeling, which was totally removed from New York City and surrounding boroughs.

At least semi-stalking her under the guise of protection had forced me to realize having the three of us living at the penthouse condo wasn’t going to work. I’d already started looking for homes, but every step of the way had been hindered by memories.

When several quick turns were made, the driver slowing down, she leaned forward as much as possible to try to determine where we were.

“Port Jefferson,” she repeated the name on the beautifully decorated white and gold sign leading into the marina area.

“Quaint. Personal service. Right on the water. A newly reopened restaurant that’s received rave reviews. I thought you might prefer the location to the fancy resort in the city your father had insisted on.”

Finally, something I’d done seemed to surprise her. Well, almost as much as fucking her in the church.

She shifted her body, tipping her head in my direction. “Danford’s.”

“Yes. How did you know?”

“From a memory.”

“Please don’t tell me you were married here.”

“I wasn’t married, Alejandro. I spent three long, abusive years with a man who didn’t love me. Not a good memory. And you’re right. I prefer this to the pomp and circumstance of the glorious hotel my father had selected, but what about the guests?”

“Well, I won’t lie to you that not everyone in the church was invited to the reception. Security wouldn’t be possible. But the select few who were are also staying here. We have the entire hotel for a few days.”

I was rewarded with a smile.

There were several buildings in the complex that allowed for an entirely different level of security. Between the two syndicates, soldiers would not only remain surrounding the building twenty-four hours a day, they would also walk the common areas near the harbor as well as interact with the harbor master and the Coast Guard to ensure no unwanted guests arrived via seaward vessel.

The suite I’d chosen was perfect for us, the time spent allowing us to get to know each other in relative peace and quiet. At least after the guests left after brunch in the morning.

She managed to relax to a point as Gio and the others jumped out, double-checking the area before escorting us to the private elevator.

“We’ll be down in one hour. Check with Bronco and Drago on the reception. Have them make certain guests are well entertained.”

He grinned for the first time in hours. “Yes, boss. Enjoy.”

The suite had two oversized rooms and a large bathroom. With the private balcony being situated on the corner, no other guests had a view of anyone relaxing on the space. The view itself was spectacular, the water seemingly under our feet, boats of various sizes seemingly only yards away.

The private elevator was a nice touch and had sold me on the location. I’d paid a pretty penny to toss guests from their reserved rooms, locking down the entire facility for several days, but in my mind, it was worth it.

What I’d forced myself to face in addition to dealing with my past was that I was also attempting to impress both Dons. It was something I would have laughed at only months before, but here I was, vying for position of Don if something should happen to one of them. Not being blood no longer meant anything in the world of mobsters. There had been too many deaths, betrayals, and barren years for the Cosa Nostra to continue with the old practices.

That didn’t mean garnering respect wouldn’t be a difficult battle. My position as the new Underboss had placed a different target on my back. I’d need to toe the line carefully between being a savage and a diplomat.

I’d learned it wasn’t as easy as everyone believed.