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She flashes me a sexy smile before turning her attention to my cousins. “Hello. I’m Francesca Barbieri.”
“Wrong.” Federico steps forward. He and Matteo are the jesters of the group, and he already has a teasing smile as he looks at Francesca. “You are Francesca Barone.”
“Oh!” Francesca laughs and slides a shy glance my way. “You’re right. I haven’t gotten used to my new name yet, but it has a beautiful ring to it.”
“You will.” Federico takes her hand and kisses it. “I am Rico. The rumors don't do you justice. You are far, by far more beautiful than they say.”
“Get out.” Matteo good-naturedly pushes Federico away. “Hi. I am Matteo, and these two idiots are Giuseppe and Roberto.”
“It’s nice to meet everyone,” Francesca says with a smile. “I hear you’re a big family.”
“You have no idea,” Matteo answers. “Everyone is waiting at the house. The family traveled down from Florence, New York, Chicago, Sicily, and Paris to attend the party Nonna Isadora is throwing for you and Valentino.”
“Well,” Francesca says with an intriguing smile. “That sounds like the making of a wonderful party.”
I grab Francesca’s hand from Matteo’s hold and pin him with a glare so vicious he takes a step back. “Let’s get to the house.”
We walk to the fleet of vehicles a few feet away, and I recognize my Black Audi immediately. Vance and Dutch materialize from the shadows and take the front seats while I open the back door for Francesca. My cousins have dispersed to their vehicles so she jerks her hand away from mine and slips into the car.
“Why didn’t you tell me we were flying to Italy to attend a party?” she asks belligerently.
I didn’t even know Nonna Isadora was throwing a party in my honor. I was just as surprised as she was when Matteo said it.
“Would it have changed anything?” I ask.
“No, but informing someone of a happy occasion in advance is common courtesy, something you are clearly a stranger to,” she mutters under her breath.
Dutch meets my eyes in the rearview mirror and immediately glances away. He sees the disrespect, and he’s shocked that I’m allowing it. On so many occasions, Dutch has watched me put women in their place for as little as looking at me the wrong way. He probably thinks I’m letting Francesca off the hook because she is my wife. That’s laughable. I don’t give a fuck about the title; it is the woman holding it.
I can tell she’s upset, and every fiber of my being wants to pull her into my arms and confess that I, too, didn’t know there would be a party, but my pride won’t let me. Until she stops assuming the worst of me, I won’t show any vulnerability. It will only give her more ammunition to attack me with. I sit still and let the gulf between us widen.
When we arrive at the house, the women are waiting outside. They move towards the Audi as it stops outside Palazzo della Seraphina. I climb out and hold Francesca’s hand to help her. In the full glare of the public, the brilliant smile is back on her face.
“Che bellezza,” Freya, Matteo’s wife, steps forward, pulling Francesca into her arms. “We are so happy to meet you. Welcome to the Barone family.”
Francesca hugs her affectionately. “Thank you.”
“I’m Freya,” she says. “I believe you’ve already met my husband, Matteo. He went to the airport with his brothers to welcome you.”
“Oh, yes,” Francesca laughs. “You’ve got one dreamy man there, Freya.”
Envy ravages my blood at her statement. Matteo is dreamy? I’m not a vain man, but even I know Matteo can never hold a candle to me in the looks department. But then again maybe she likes her men weak, like that freckled maggot, Thomas.
“Oh, come on.” Freya waves Francesca off, a slight blush on her cheek. “Come meet the others.” She turns to the women behind her.
“This is Serena, Federico’s wife. This is Isabella, Giuseppe’s wife. And this is Vica, a cousin of the family.”
As Freya introduces Francesca to the women, some of my uncles emerge from the house. Roberto approaches me, his voice barely above a whisper. “There’s work to be done.”
I nod, remembering the urgent call I’d received from Zio Marco yesterday. “Have Zio Marco wait for me in the study,” I say, looking at the women. “Francesca and I will settle in, and I’ll be with you shortly.”
“It will be done.” Roberto nods and leaves with his brothers.
The women stop chatting and look at them. They are beaming with genuine happiness for me. They bestow their good wishes on me.
“Congratulations!”
“You look wonderful.”