Page 51 of Dangerous King (Savage Kings of New York #2)

The moon hangs low over the garden, casting silver across the lawn and making the fountain shimmer like a pool of stars. Crickets chirp in the hedges, and somewhere in the trees, an owl calls once before falling quiet again.

I lean back against Enrico's chest, tucked between his legs on a stone bench that's still faintly warm from the day.

The night air is cool, but not cold; it's actually kind of perfect.

Shadow lies at our feet, stretched long and twitching in his sleep, his paws jerking now and then like he's chasing something in his dreams.

I'm happy.

That realization still hits in waves. It's a pure, overwhelming happiness that catches me off guard and holds me still, like now. His arms around me. The quiet hum of the night. The way the moonlight paints silver into his dark hair and softens the sharp lines of his face.

Earlier, we wandered the garden paths with Shadow sniffing ahead of us, and Enrico teased me about tripping over roots because I kept watching the stars instead of where I was going.

He reached for my hand every time I strayed too close to the edge as if even gravity couldn't be trusted to take care of me the way he would.

Now we sit, wrapped in silence, but it's the kind that speaks volumes. Every breath between us says you're safe, you're wanted, you're mine.

"I'm sorry," he murmurs suddenly, low and rough against my ear. "I should've had a ring when I asked you."

I turn just enough to look at him. The moonlight is catching the glint in his dark eyes. "You're really apologizing for that?"

He lifts one shoulder, almost sheepish, nothing like my big, strong mafia boss. "You deserve something beautiful."

"You'll give me something beautiful," I say softly, squeezing the arms wrapped around me. "You'll give me your name."

His breath catches.

"And for the record," I add, smirking, "I don't need a ring to know I'm yours."

He exhales slowly, like something inside him just let go. "For the record, I do, though. I want every man in the world to know that you're mine. And mine alone. So you'll get one," he mutters. "I'll make sure of it. Something big enough to blind anyone who looks at you too long."

I laugh, even as my heart stutters. "Possessive much?"

His lips graze the curve of my jaw. "You have no idea."

Shadow lets out a little huff, flipping to his other side, probably complaining that we're being too loud and are disturbing his sleep. I giggle and stroke his back.

"I don't think he approves of all the moonlight romance," I tease.

"He'll survive," Enrico murmurs. "You're mine, and I'm not sharing. Not even with the dog."

I tilt my head back until our eyes meet. The moon reflects in his, and I think, not for the first time, that this man will ruin me in all the right ways.

"You know you won't see me much for the next three months, right?" I tease.

"I'm aware that my sister has full proprietary rights over you, or thinks she does, at least." He concedes. I laugh, having no idea what I did to deserve this much happiness.

"There will be a lot of shopping," I add, feeling rueful about it. I don't have any money. None.

"Just make sure Izzy takes you to Maison étoile and only Maison étoile," Enrico emphasizes.

I blanch but hope that in the increasing darkness, he can't see it.

A few days ago, Izzy, Eliza, and I popped in there to grab Eliza a scarf—a thousand-plus-dollar scarf—and I still haven't been able to wrap my head around how much Izzy and I spent that time we spent the whole day there.

I can't even imagine what a wedding dr?—

"Take this," Enrico holds out a black card with gold lettering, interrupting my inner thoughts. Izzy has a card like this. It's some kind of credit card reserved for the richest of the rich.

"Enrico." I can't bring myself to take the card. My head is slowly shaking left to right automatically. "I can't… I can't take your money…"

He laughs, "Of course you can, Piccolina. That's what it's for."

"That place is so expensive…" I try to protest, but he only laughs again, taking my chin with the hand not holding the card, "Cat, if you can't do it for yourself, think about it that way.

As my wife, you'll have to present yourself a certain way, which includes expensive clothes, jewelry, shoes, handbags—everything.

If you don't want people to start speculating that I'm about to go bankrupt, you need to buy the most expensive things there are. "

I know he's humoring me, but there is also a certain amount of truth to his words. I lived with the Giordanos long enough to have learned that much. Still, Camilla never went to Maison étoile, at least not with me.

"But what if I spend you into bankruptcy?" I bring up another objection.

Enrico laughs, a deep, rich sound that echoes through the moonlit garden and earns another disgruntled grunt from Shadow.

"I make more in six hours than most CEOs make in a quarter," he says, amusement sparking in his eyes. "Unless you're planning to personally fund a private jet made of diamonds and line it with albino chinchilla fur, I think I'll survive."

I gape at him. "Six hours?"

He shrugs, still grinning. "That's on a slow day."

I cross my arms, trying to hold onto my indignation, but his smile is infectious, and the absurdity of his example finally makes me snort. "Chinchilla fur?"

"You'd look cute wrapped in luxury," he teases, tucking the card into my palm despite my protests.

"But you don't need it to be stunning. You just need it because my family—and this world—is full of sharks.

You walk into those rooms, and I want every single one of them to know you belong to me.

That you're not just my bride—you're a Sartori. "

A chill runs through me, but not a bad one. Not fear. It's awe. It's… safety. He leans in again, softer this time. "You don't have to prove yourself, Cat. Just let them see you the way I see you."

I close my fingers around the card, finally. Not for the card itself, but for what it means. What it represents. I'm his. And he's mine.

And come hell or high fashion, I'll rise to the occasion.

Another thought crosses my mind. I hate to ask Enrico for even more than he's already given me, but… "Do you mind if I take… Mamma and Sabine shopping too?"

"I insist you do," he presses a kiss against my forehead. "I should have sent the three of you earlier. God knows they probably need a lot of things after leaving Sicily in the middle of the night."

"Your mamma already filled their closets and made your brothers do the same for Papa and my brothers," I tell him. There is still more. "I heard Papa talking to Fabrizio earlier. I think Roberto froze his accounts; they don't have any money…"

"I'll dig into it," he promises, and I lay my head against his chest, so relieved to have him to lean on. "I was also thinking about offering your brothers jobs at our casinos. What do you think about that?"

I lift my head. Can this man be any more wonderful? He thinks about everything.

"They can stay on the legit side. I'll make sure of it," Enrico assures me.

"Thank you. Grazie mille." Impulsively, I wrap my arms around him and kiss him.

He kisses me back, slow and deep, his arms wrap around my waist like he's anchoring us both. When we finally part, my breath is shaky, and my heart feels too full for my chest.

"Piccolina," he murmurs, brushing a strand of hair from my cheek. "Don't thank me for doing what any decent man would do. You're my future. That makes your family mine. I take care of what's mine."

I blink fast, trying to keep the emotion from spilling over.

"You really mean it, don't you?" I whisper.

"I wouldn't have asked you to marry me if I didn't," he says simply, then his lips curve in that crooked, devastating grin. "Though if you want to keep saying thank you like that…"

I smack his chest, laughing, and he catches my wrist, pressing another kiss to my knuckles.

"Seriously," I say softly, "I don't know what I ever did to deserve this kind of kindness from you."

He looks at me, deadly serious now. "You survived, Cat. You endured hell and came out on the other side with your soul intact. That alone earns you everything I have to give."

Tears sting my eyes. I press into his chest again, letting his warmth and strength settle the last of my unease. Behind us, Shadow lets out a long yawn and rolls over in the grass like he has zero patience for emotional humans.

"Drama queen," I murmur against Enrico's chest.

He chuckles, chin resting lightly atop my head. "He's just jealous he's not the one getting kisses."

"You think he wants a ring, too?"

"Maybe a collar. Platinum. With diamonds." He pauses. "Actually, maybe I'll get matching ones. For you both."

I swat him again, but I'm still smiling. We sit there for a while longer, beneath the moonlight and the stars, wrapped in each other and this fragile, beautiful moment that—for once—feels like it might actually last.

All the way back to the house, Enrico keeps his arm wrapped snug around my waist, his thumb lazily tracing circles on my hip through the fabric of my dress. The laughter from inside spills out faintly through the open French doors, warm and full of life.

Just before we step inside, he leans down, his lips brushing the shell of my ear. "Go to your room," he murmurs, voice thick with promise. "Lock the door… but leave the balcony open."

A shiver dances down my spine. My breath catches. I glance up, flushed and grinning. "That sounds like a terrible idea."

"Exactly." His smirk is pure sin. "Eleven o'clock."

I laugh softly, heart pounding as he presses another, this time briefer kiss to my mouth. It's quick, but hungry enough to make my knees weak.

Then Rizio's voice cuts through from the hallway. "Enrico—two minutes?"

He groans under his breath and brushes his knuckles along my jaw. "Go. I'll come find you."

I nod, already heading for the stairs. But just as I round the base of the grand staircase, I spot a figure in the shadowed archway near the hall. Sabine. She's leaning against the wall with one shoulder, arms crossed, hair perfectly tousled, her mouth set in something that's not quite a smile.

I pause. Everything inside me demands to go upstairs, take a shower, shave, make myself ready for… I feel a flush creep up my face, my fiancée. But this looks like an opportunity to talk to my baby sister. God knows we haven't spent enough time together yet. So I walk over.

"Hey," I say gently.

Sabine doesn't respond at first. Her gaze stays fixed on the hallway Enrico just disappeared down, wearing an unreadable expression.

I follow her line of sight and suddenly wonder what she thinks about all this—about him .

About the armed guards, and conversations in dark corners, filled with names she doesn't yet understand.

Does she realize how deep in the pocket of the mafia our father was back in Sicily?

Or does she still believe we were just… collateral damage?

Civilians caught in the wrong current? A part of me hopes she never finds out just how gray everything is in this world.

But another part—the smarter one—knows that innocence doesn't survive here. Not for long.

"We're going shopping tomorrow," I add lightly. "Izzy, her mamma, Mamma, me, and you, if you want."

Her brows lift a little, skepticism in every line of her face. "Shopping?"

"Maison étoile," I say with a little grin. "It's not really a mall. It's like… if Versailles and a fashion week runway had a baby."

She scoffs softly, but her arms uncross, just barely. "Sounds expensive."

"It is," I admit. "And completely out of my league. But… it's kind of amazing. You'd love it."

Sabine's gaze slides over to me, sharp. "You think you know what I'd love?"

There's no mistaking the edge in her voice. But her expression shifts too fast for me to pin it down. Hurt, maybe? Or something else? I hesitate, not sure how to answer. "I'm just saying… we haven't really gotten a chance to hang out. I thought it might be fun."

Sabine's mouth twitches, this time into a smile that's a little too fast, a little too bright. "Sure. Sounds fun." She pushes off the wall with casual grace, and her arms fall to her sides as if to signal she's completely on board.

Relief moves through me. I smile, hoping this is a good sign. She laughs, short and light. "Maison étoile, right? I saw it on TikTok. It looked… extravagant."

There's something in the way she says extravagant , like the word's dipped in sugar but edged in something sharper. She leans closer, eyes trailing down my outfit. "And judging by that dress, I guess you fit right in."

I glance down, suddenly self-conscious, but she's already tossing her hair back, still smiling. "I mean, you look amazing. Totally bride-to-be energy."

"Thanks," I say, trying not to blush. "It still feels surreal."

Sabine claps her hands once, lightly. "Well, we'll make it real tomorrow. I'm ready to be spoiled."

She says it playfully, but her fingers fidget with the edge of her sweater, tugging the seam a little too tightly.

"I'm glad," I tell her honestly. "I want us to get closer."

"Totally," she replies, "I mean, we're sisters, right?"

I nod, warmth blooming in my chest. "Yeah. Sisters."

She gives my arm a quick squeeze, nails lightly brushing the fabric. "Well, I'd better go grab something to wear tomorrow. Wouldn't want to embarrass the family."

I laugh, idly noticing the way her lips tighten for just a second as I turn away. But by the time I reach the stairs and look back, her expression has smoothed back into place, and I don't give it a second thought.

Sabine exhales softly and tilts her head, still watching.

"Bride-to-be energy," she murmurs under her breath. "Right."

Then she turns and disappears into the shadows.

I don't know why this encounter leaves me so on edge, and for a minute, I'm tempted to go after her, but then Shadow barks, ready to go to bed, making me laugh when he chases his tail, and I reconsider.

Sabine and I simply haven't had a chance to get to know one another, that's all it is.

Once we do, we'll be like we were never apart, like Izzy and me.

My life has turned into a fairy tale, and I'm determined to make everything around me perfect.