Page 67 of The Killer Cupcake (Poison Cherry #3)

M aria Ricci savored the unfamiliar sensation of happiness.

Five years, she'd been Mrs. Carmelo Ricci in name only, watching her husband mourn a love that had betrayed him for a Mississippi farmer.

Five years of careful moves, calculated sacrifices, and swallowed pride while he treated her like furniture in his life.

But something had shifted. Last night, he'd crossed the threshold of their bedroom with purpose.

He'd made love to her—not performed a duty, not maintained appearances, but claimed her as his wife. It would be the only way for her complete destruction and punishment. To give her what her heart wants and then rip it away, like she’d done to him.

She'd earned this moment through methods he'd never need to know about. After all, what were a few necessary evils compared to a lifetime of being loved?

When the car glided to a stop, Slim's familiar face appeared at her window. He opened the door with practiced grace, offering his hand.

"You look beautiful, Maria."

"Thank you, Slim." Her pulse quickened. "He's here?"

"Waiting inside."

She draped her fur stole over one shoulder and moved toward the entrance, the red dress flowing around her legs.

The restaurant transformed as she entered—lights dimmed to intimate shadows, tables cleared away, hundreds of candles creating pools of golden light.

A jazz quartet played something soft and smoky just for them.

Carmelo sat at the lone table, white roses spilling from a crystal vase. When his dark eyes found hers, her heart performed the same treacherous flip it had when they were teenagers and he'd first noticed her existence.

Carmelo stood, smoothed down his tie, and let his gaze travel over his wife’s attire and beauty as if impressed.

Heat flooded Maria’s cheeks. He was handsome, strikingly so.

All the girls in their circle of friends had crushes on Matteo, and even though they thought Nino was attractive, they found him strange.

She was the one who got close enough to snag the prince.

Her cheeks flushed when he stared, and her heart pounded in her chest, but she maintained her confidence. Last night's touch—finally, after five years—had revived the dream she thought lost after he learned she had a part in revealing the twins to that colored girl he had obsessed over.

"Ti stavo aspettando,” he said in that deeply low and seductive voice.

“Well, thank you for waiting,” she replied.

She crossed the open space and approached him without hesitation, arms circling his neck as her fur stole pooled forgotten on the floor. The kiss she gave him held five years of hunger. He responded with measured control before drawing out her chair with old-world courtesy.

One of Carmelo's soldiers emerged from the kitchen, bearing plates of pasta, and moved with silent efficiency. Carmelo uncorked the wine himself.

"Hi, Jimmie," Maria offered.

Jimmie's eyes stayed down as he retreated wordlessly to the kitchen. The deliberate snub made her shoulders tighten.

"Where are the kids?" Carmelo asked, noticing Jimmie’s stiff behavior.

"With your father. He asked for them tonight. He spoils them so much, Carmelo.” She forced brightness into her voice.

“Ma says he's wonderful with them. And Nino is really excited when they visit your dad lately. They all adore him. I was thinking that I’m ready for Nino to come live with us. Give Ma a break. I know you would like that if I did more.”

"You love him too." Carmelo's tone was neutral as he raised his wine.

“Nino? Of course?—”

“No, my father. You love him too, just like the kids,” Carmelo remarked.

The statement made her stomach tighten. Maria kept her smile steady while shifting in her chair, a movement Carmelo might interpret as mere discomfort.

The truth about his father was far more sinister.

Cosimo Ricci terrified her to her core. He had since he'd orchestrated her mother's marriage to him after Carmelo's mother's suicide.

She'd watched him break her mother's spirit with calculated kindness and affection, then seen him turn violent when Carmelo and Matteo were away. She’d seen how his affection always came with invisible chains, and her mother walked a tightrope in search of that common ground that made her marriage bearable.

How many times had he mocked her mother’s cooking, saying Lucia’s was better?

How many times had he ranted about anything being changed in his home from Lucia’s vision?

Now he lavished that same possessive attention on her twins, and it made her skin crawl, because she feared that too would come at a price.

The lie about that night—letting Carmelo believe he'd forced himself on her—had been her only shield against Cosimo's plans. Better to be the wife of a guilty son than whatever Cosimo might have made her become.

“I asked you a question, Maria. You and father are really close?”

Maria paused mid-bite, the exquisite pasta suddenly difficult to swallow. "Of course. He's my father, too, now. After everything that happened, he married my mother and helped bring us together. He's a good man, Carmelo. I know he was hard on you once, but seeing you two close now makes me happy."

Carmelo lowered the glass and studied her for a moment. “You think we’re close?”

She smiled. “I mean closer. Yes. You’re in his business, and with him all the time. You stopped boxing to help build the family. You do more than Matteo. Ma, says your father is often speaking about how smart you are.”

He continued to stare. Having his attention focused solely on her made her head swoon. She glanced over to the band and smiled. “They are so good. I never really get to hear live music. I’m always with the kids or at home. We never… well, never used to go out and do this.”

“Is that what you want? Nights out? Freedom to go hear jazz bands?” Carmelo asked.

“No, Carmelo,” she gave a light chuckle. “I swear, men are so dense at times. I want you. I’ve only wanted you,” she said softly.

“Even after what I’ve done. To you? How I have treated you?” Carmelo asked. His manner was cool, his stare unblinking. “Don’t you deserve better, Maria, than any of this?”

"Stop. That night is buried and forgiven.

I've dreamed of this. To sit with you like this.

To build our family and be truly yours. If I hurt you by revealing it, I'm sorry.

But look at what we have now. Two beautiful children who need their father.

A wife who's waited five years for your love.

" Her voice dropped to an intimate softness.

“They are your blood, they are you, Carmelo.

And for us, you are our only real family.

I've forgiven everything. Please, please do the same.

Last night was our fresh start. Who knows?

Maybe we'll be blessed with another baby. Imagine that joy."

"Dance with me," he said, already standing, already reaching for her.

The empty restaurant, the watching shadows, the flickering candles.

It all faded away. When his arms closed around her, the world contracted to just this—his heartbeat against hers, the whisper of the saxophonist floating through candlelight.

They moved with the synchronicity of souls who'd always belonged together, despite the years of distance.

Maria surrendered to the feeling, letting five years of longing culminate in this perfect moment.

This was the marriage she'd envisioned, the love she'd killed for, the happiness that finally felt within reach.

Tears threatened to release behind her closed lids.

She'd never wanted to steal his dreams of freedom or burden him with false guilt over a rape that existed only in her fiction. But his father’s wishes had been explicit.

She must get pregnant. Each month that no baby announcement was made, he took it out on her mother.

Carmelo was never around, and neither was Matteo.

It was just her and Nino to witness Cosimo’s savagery.

Maria had to do something.

So she and her mother revealed that Carmelo would not sleep with her.

Cosimo was infuriated. He came up with another plan, even more horrible.

Seduce one of the capu’s in the family. A man who could not be touched if the plot was uncovered by anyone without the Don’s consent.

Her choice. Cosimo didn’t care as long as she conceived, and Carmelo believed without a doubt that the baby was his.

It was the only way to secure at least one of his sons to the Ricci family.

Her mother's cold logic had prevailed. She would make him think he was a rapist like his father.

Caesar wanted her, would protect her, could give her children to trap Carmelo.

The plan had seemed monstrous until she'd discovered Caesar's unexpected gentleness, his desire to please, his willingness to be what Carmelo refused to be.

And in truth, she did care deeply for him and his companionship.

For five years, she'd lived split in half—her body finding solace with Caesar while her heart remained imprisoned by Carmelo's indifference. The guilt ate at her like acid, even as she played the devoted wife to a man who could barely stand her presence.

But sins could be forgiven, wounds could heal. With that, Kathy Freeman finally out of their lives, perhaps she could build something real from the lies.

"I have a surprise for you," Carmelo murmured against her temple.

"A surprise?" Delight bubbled up through her voice.

"Can I give it to you now?" he asked.

The music continued as their swaying came to a stop. Maria opened her eyes, searching his face, trying to read the depths of the mystery that lay within. "Yes. Give it to me now."