Page 97

“Serano has been practically sniffing at the door like a hungry stray,” I told her.
“Oh, I made more than enough for him too,” she said as I went to the wine rack, holding up a bottle at her with a raised brow.
“I could go for a glass,” she agreed as she piled the ravioli onto a plate, then brought the giant pile over to the pot of boiling water.
“Can I make salad or bread?” I asked.
“Nope. The salad is in the fridge. And the bread is in the oven. Though, it doesn’t smell as good as yours did. I think I need some pointers there.”
In the end, though, she really didn’t need any pointers. Everything from the ravioli to the garlic bread, and even the dressing she made from a recipe she found online was fucking amazing.
“Never had a woman cook for me outside of my family,” I admitted as we took our wine to the couch after dinner, leaving our dirty plates and bowls right on the table to be dealt with later.
“I liked doing it,” she admitted, finishing her wine, setting it on the new coffee table, then snuggling into me.
“Yeah?” I asked, setting my wine down. “Think you can see yourself wanting to keep doing it in the future? Maybe for a couple more very small people?”
“I’m dubious about how many a ‘couple’ means to you,” she said, tilting her head up to smile at me. “It seems like you mafia guys want entire litters of children.”
“I’ll take however many you’re willing to give me,” I said, pressing my forehead to hers. “If that kind of thing is on your mind. ‘Cause it is on mine.”
“I think I can tentatively commit to two or three,” she said, beaming at me. “But I think we should probably wait until, you know, we’ve actually been dating for a couple of weeks at least.”
“Just practicing then,” I agreed.
“Lots and lots of practicing,” she agreed, sliding her leg over mine to move to straddle me. “Starting now.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
Elizabeth - 1 week
“You have nothing to be nervous about,” Elian assured me, reaching to grab my hand, so I stopped tapping my fingers against my leg.
We were riding the elevator up to Renzo Lombardi’s penthouse apartment. Because, apparently, the entire family had get-togethers every few weeks. And now that I was with Elian, I needed to be with him to meet everyone.
Sure, I’d already met Renzo, Rico, Serano, Cinna, Dav, Saff, and a few of the other lower-level men, but this felt a little like a test of sorts. Even if I knew that Elian wasn’t looking at it like that.
As soon as we stepped off of the elevator, I could hear the thrum of music mingled with the chorus of voices and occasional bursts of laughter.
Really, it sounded like any other party.
It wasn’t like we were going to walk in, the music was going to cut off, someone was going to produce a very bright light to shine on me, and everyone was going to take turns asking me questions.
Elian nodded to the man standing guard outside of Renzo’s front door. We still had one of those too. Elian said he was just being overly cautious, and I’d honestly been glad he hadn’t been quick to leave me all alone after the last incident. Even if the family had made a deal with the Russians.
“Cage,” Elian said as the man opened the door for us. “This is Elizabeth,” he said, giving my hand a squeeze. “Elizabeth, this is Cage.”
“It’s nice to meet you,” I said, getting a smile and nod from him as we moved into Renzo’s apartment.
“Oh, wow,” I said, looking around at the sprawling penthouse. “I wasn’t expecting this from the outside of the building,” I admitted as my gaze moved around the warm, cozy space with its giant kitchen, dining space, living room, and then area that was set up like a game room with a pool table and a full bar.
Dav was standing behind said bar, face animated as he told one of the stories he was, apparently, famous for. Cinna was a few feet away, looking like she was having some sort of serious conversation with Saff, who had a bruise on her cheek that hadn’t been there the last time I’d seen her.
“How about some food first?” Elian asked, leading me over to the kitchen where nearly a dozen pizza boxes were scattered around, along with foil-wrapped hot subs, and a few tins of appetizers—fried mozzarella, bruschetta, and pinwheels.
Elian and I loaded up plates, then walked over to join a small group sitting in the living room. Introductions were made, and then the conversation continued. I was glad for the food, because it gave me an excuse just to listen in instead of participating.
By the time we finished eating, I was feeling a little more at ease as we went to get drinks, then started to talk to more people.