Chapter 33 Misses Her
Roman
I’m less suspicious of him now. He did everything he could to help us during the war. He’s surprisingly good at hand-to-hand combat and a decent shot. In a war where I needed every available man, Ivan was a valuable asset.
“I came to see your mother,” he tells me.
“Yeah, okay.” He walks into the house and I turn to face Tony, who has a frown on his face.
“What?” I ask as we approach my car.
“I don’t like him. Which is unfortunate, because he’s at the top of Elena’s list of potential husbands.”
I still am. Elena Legan has been gone for a week now, and I can admit that part of me misses her.
“They’re trying to marry her off to my cousin?” I ask, feeling a muscle twitch in my jaw.
“I don’t like that either. But you said it yourself, he seems like a decent guy,” Tony points out.
Before he can see the murderous look on my face, I look away and force myself to calm down. I have no problem with Elena. I don’t give a shit who she marries.
“Let’s just go,” I mutter. “The D’Angelos are waiting for us.”
We’re the only ones at dinner because Mikey is an annoying jerk who doesn’t want to spend time with people. He’d rather play video games and hack NASA. Sometimes I worry about him, but there’s not much I can do. He’s been through a lot. We all have dark pasts.
The street leading to the D'Angelo house is quiet, nearly empty, and lined with massive oak trees. There aren't any houses for miles, so the house is pretty isolated, which is pretty damn smart. When we arrive at the large mansion, the assistants usher us inside and lead us to the living room.
Inside, we find Christian and the rest of his family. They all fall silent when they notice us. Two children are sitting in front of a flat-screen TV, watching a cartoon.
Christian clears his throat and gets to his feet. I'm glad to see Carlo, who's approaching as well.
"Roman," Christian greets.
"Hello. We brought wine, I say awkwardly, gesturing for Tony to pass him the wine.
Technically, Mom forced this on us, saying that it was impolite to come to someone's house without a gift. One of the women in the room steps forward and snatches the bottle from Tony's hand.
"Oh, is that Chambertin?" the red-haired woman asks. Her eyes sparkle as she looks at us. "It's quite expensive. What year is it?"
Christian coughs, getting to his feet. “Honey, chill out.”
Her eyes narrowed at her husband. “I’ll chill this fancy bottle of wine our guests brought. And who knows, maybe I’ll pour you a glass, too,” she says, winking at him.
“Rossignol Chambertin 1968. Mrs. D’Angelo,” I reply politely.
She snorts. “My name is Danielle. And please don’t ever call me Mrs. D’Angelo again. I’m not Christian’s mother.”
The energetic woman grins, and I stare at her, dumbfounded. The D'Angelo men standing behind her are not nearly as surprised by her actions.
"Of course not, Danielle," Tony interjects. "You're too gorgeous to be a mom."
He even winks at her. I groan internally, bringing my hand to my face. I knew I shouldn't have brought him along. The bastard doesn't notice the way Christian's eyes narrow.
Danielle grins.
"I am, actually. Of both. These little rascals," she says, gesturing at the kids in front of the TV. "But I appreciate the feeling..."
“Anthony Legan," he says quickly. "You can call me Tony."
Daniella smiles.
"It's nice to meet you, Tony. And you too, Roman. Now, if you'll excuse me, I need to check on the food. By that I mean supervise the cook, because I'm a terrible cook."
With that, she leaves. Another woman steps forward from behind the men and takes her place.
"Why are you two just standing there?" she asks with a D'Angelo smile.
Carlo immediately hugs her. "This is my wife, Astoria."
Astoria is about to say something when the phone starts ringing. She pulls it out of her jeans and gives us an apologetic smile before answering. The call only takes a minute or two.
“Baby, I have to go,” she tells her husband once she’s finished. “The baby just arrived, and it’s in critical condition.”
“Of course, my love. Do you need me to drive you?”
She shakes her head.
“No, I’ll be fine.”
He kisses her lips, despite the three other pairs of eyes staring at them. It’s a little strange to watch. But the man is in love. Carlo has changed since I last saw him.
"I'm so sorry, guys," Astoria tells us as they part. "It was nice meeting you. But I really have to go."
"It's okay," I tell her.
She leaves, and it's just us men. Carlo explains that she's a doctor, information I've already been privy to, but I nod anyway, understanding.
Christian sighs.
"Sorry if this is all a little tiresome…"
"No, man, it's okay," I mumble. "I have a big family, too."
He smiles.
"Come on, let's introduce you to the kids. My little brother and his wife are out of the country right now.
And thank God for that. As he said, they're a bit overwhelming, and I don't feel so comfortable around new people. Tony, however, seems to feel right at home. After we meet the kids, he starts telling Carlo about the gym he opened a year ago. I was going to check it out, but things have been crazy busy.
“It’s going well,” Carlo tells us. “I have clients from all over New York. There are training facilities for MMA fighters and wrestling couples.”
That sounds pretty cool. As surprising as it is that a man like Carlo would decide to leave the criminal world, he seems genuinely happy. And in love, which I thought was impossible. The Carlo I met years ago was icy. He barely spoke, and he cared about anything except his family. It's amazing what a transformation he's undergone.
We talk for a few more minutes before Danielle reappears and tells me dinner is ready. Her son Daniel immediately stands up at the thought of food, making me grin. He's a sweet little boy and friendly, according to his dad, that is, when he's not distracted by cartoons.
He doesn't even look at us when his dad introduces us. Christian is trying to lift his little girl onto his shoulders, an adorable three-year-old with blue eyes like her mother. She looks just like her.
Tony and I step back and follow the family into the dining room.
“It’s kind of weird, huh?” my friend asks.
I look at him questioningly.
“Seeing them happy and in love,” he corrects. “We didn’t see much of that growing up.”
My throat tightens.