Page 86 of Nico

She narrowed her eyes.

“Yes. Though I am surprised you are asking, Nico. I was sure you’d demand me to be ready.”

I fucking loved her backbone. Our bantering was like foreplay. It made my cock stir to life. And no matter what, I loved that she didn’t give a fuck about appeasing me. She stood up for her beliefs and people she cared about.

“Okay, you two lovebirds,” Luciano announced, his eyes shining with amusement. “Off you go, we will handle everything here.”

“The girls need to be in bed by nine,” Bianca commenced, but Grace quickly stopped her.

“We got it,” she assured her. “Kids will be in bed and asleep before nine. They had an exciting day. Ella and I will give them a bath and tuck them all in.”

“Okay.” Bianca was nervous and it was understandable. She got to know the ladies, but they were still strangers to her. “My cell phone number is on the fridge, just text to let me know it all went well.”

“Will do,” Grace confirmed. “In fact, I’ll text you now so you have my number.”

Bianca hugged her girls, then my mother, then her girls again, and if those two wouldn’t have taken off, I was sure she would have hugged them again. I didn’t mind it though; it made me want to have children with her right away, a big family. Just like she wanted. She was a good mother, and I knew she’d rather die than let anything happen to our kids.

This woman brought out the side of me I didn’t know existed. She made me hope for things I never wanted… a loving wife, children, warm home full of laughter, and homemade cooking.

It could be dangerous in my world, full of power struggles and money hungry people, to want things like that. It was a vulnerability, a weakness. People destroyed your loved ones just to bring you to your knees. My parents were a perfect example. Benito used Nicoletta to teach my father a lesson. My father learned, but it destroyed my mother.

But I’d keep my wife, twins, and any other children we have safe. And I intended to have a big family, just like she wanted. Fuck, I’d give her anything she wanted. Except her freedom.

I had Lorenzo change her birth control pills for the same shape vitamins during the wedding ceremony. Throughout the day, he arranged for the guys to pack up Bianca’s and girls’ things and have them moved to my mansion. There were just a few things left here for the occasions we’d stay here. Because I knew she’d want to come back. This was her safe haven.

Fifteen minutes later, I held the door to my Bugatti Centodieci open for my wife and helped her into it. She wanted to change out of her wedding dress, but I asked her to keep it on until we got to my place. She indulged me but she grabbed a wrap and covered her shoulders. She had taken her train off earlier today. Well, better term was she had my mother cut it off.

Once she was settled in, I shut the door and went around to the driver side. I drove us off Gibson Island through the gate and down Mountain Road.

Bianca remained quiet, her eyes locked to the view out the window. A storm was coming. I wasn’t superstitious but my sixth sense was warning me there was more than just bad weather coming.

“So what kind of car is this?” she finally asked, breaking the silence.

“Bugatti Centodieci.”

“Sounds expensive,” she muttered unimpressed.

She didn’t particularly care for luxury or expensive things. She valued the people she loved more than things she owned. Except for that house. She loved that house. I couldn’t decide whether it was because of the memories she shared with her late husband or was it something else.

“So does this car have a radio?” she asked, eyeing the dashboard. She leaned forward, and fiddled with the buttons. It didn’t take her long to find the stereo. “What kind of music do you listen to?”

“Not Sean Paul,” I said.

She laughed. “Yeah, I would guess not. He’s an acquired taste.”

Pushing the button forward, over and over again, she kept reading the artist's names. Till she stopped.

“Ray Charles?” She seemed genuinely surprised.

“Yes, he is one of my favorites.”

“Well, well, well,” she murmured, leaving the music on, then leaned back against her seat. “Dad would have loved you.”

I chuckled. “My mother already loves you.”

It wasn’t an exaggeration. My mother had made an effort for the first time since Nicoletta’s death to refrain from drinking. She used to abstain from alcohol the days she would see my sister, but since her death, she no longer bothered. She found oblivion in her alcohol.

“My mom-” she paused as if searching for words, “... has been Benito’s mistress for a long time.” She cleared her throat. “I-I’m not quite sure what she likes and doesn’t like.”