The Woman from the Past (Grassi Framily)

“Oh, my God. That’s so sad.”

“Yeah,” I agreed, feeling a knot in my stomach for the first time at realizing that my world, my choice to be in my line of work, could absolutely put my woman or even my kids at risk.

That had never been a thought I’d really needed to entertain before. Sure, I worried about all the other women in the family, but they’d been raised in it, they’d always known how it was. It felt different, somehow, than bringing a new women or kids into it.

“What’s the matter?”

“Just wondering if you’ve thought this through, that’s all,” I said, leading her into the master bedroom that was a lot like the kitchen in that it favored black and dark gray. One wall was floor-to-ceiling windows. The back of the room led into the bathroom and his-and-hers walk-in closets.

“Thought what through?” she asked, pulling away so she could look at me directly.

“This,” I said, waving a hand out.

“The house?”

“No. This. Me. My line of work. What that means for the future.”

“Oh,” she said, putting the pieces together. “Because Luca and Matteo’s mom was killed. As in… killed because of her husband’s involvement in the Family?” she asked.

“Yeah, something like that.”

To that, she glanced out the window for a long moment, long enough that my stomach started to work itself into painful knots.

“Have there been a lot of wives murdered in this Family?” she asked when she turned back.

“What? No. Just her.”

“What about the children?”

“Absolutely not. But it’s not just that.”

“What is it, then?”

“It’s the fear. The worry about something happening to you or the kids or to me.”

“Oh. Well, in that case, yes, I’ve thought about it.”

“We haven’t known each other that long for you to have given it a lot of thought.”

“I mean, I’m not writing a thesis on it,” she said, giving me a smirk to lighten the mood. “But I have absolutely thought about it. I spent quite a few nights with my growing feelings for you, trying to convince myself that I’d had enough of criminal men and the way their lives have impacted me.”

“Which is probably where your head should be,” I told her, even though my gut twisted when I said the words.

“The thing is… I’m not sure there’s a lot of choice in the matter here,” she said.

“What? You have a choice, Cammie. You can turn around and leave right now if you want to.”

“I didn’t mean it like that. I know you’re not forcing me to be here. That’s not what I’m saying. I’m saying that I don’t really feel like I had much of a choice in falling for you. It just seemed to happen. In between me listing all the reasons it couldn’t happen. But even if I had a choice, I’m pretty sure I would have chosen you,” she told me, walking over and pressing her hands to my chest. “You’re a pretty amazing man, Massimo.”

Fuck.

I never knew I needed to hear those words until I heard them from the mouth of a woman I could see a future with.

“I mean, I might need to re-think my stance if I find out you wear socks with sandals or put tuna and corn on your pizza.”

“Tuna and corn? The fuck kind of blasphemy is that?”

“I don’t know. I heard it once,” she said, wrinkling her nose. “But I’m honestly way more concerned about the sandals and socks thing,” she told me, lips twitching.