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Black Hearted (The Margarelli Brothers 1)

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Thankfully, we had agreed to keep our relationship secret.

As a result, Vincent was using the back door to come and go, usually under the cover of darkness in the early morning or after sundown. He was kind of like a vampire, I teased him. An unpredictable vampire, I thought as he appeared in the dining room a moment later.

He had something with him. A large box. A large, wiggling box.

I knew what was inside. I smiled and shook my head. He had terrible timing. Angelique would have to wash her hands before she ate. And I had no doubt that breakfast would be cold by then.

“What’s that?” she asked, perking up. Her steaming plate of eggs was immediately forgotten, just as I had predicted.

“I am not sure,” Vincent said, playacting that he was confused. It was adorable, particularly on such a big, handsome man. He shook the box slightly. “I think it’s for you, young lady.”

“For me?” she squealed, reminding me again how young she really was. She had been through so much in her life already. But between the two of us, Vincent and I had sworn to give her every second, every single bit of her childhood we could squeeze out before she became an official teenager.

We would spoil her rotten after that, too, if she let us.

“Well, it definitely says your name,” he said, setting the box down and scratching his chin as if he really wasn’t sure who the box was for. Angelique giggled. She was too smart to really be fooled, but she was more than happy to play along.

She tore into the box and then let out a loud yip. Or maybe that was the puppy. A Saint Bernard puppy, I saw, as she lifted it clear of the box. It even had the traditional barrel hanging from the collar around its neck.

Oh, dear Lord. Did he have to get such a large dog?

“Vincent. Did you deliberately get an enormous puppy?”

“What?” He looked innocent. Far too innocent. “She’s tiny. She’s just a baby.”

“Yes, she’s tiny now,” I said, rolling my eyes. But my daughter was beyond overjoyed. This was also a good lesson in responsibility for her. Besides, there was no way on earth I would dare to crush her happiness. It was too hard earned.

And long, long overdue.

Every single smile was worth its weight in gold.

“There is something in the barrel,” she exclaimed, giving Vincent a suspicious look. He winked at her.

“Not brandy, I hope,” I said, giving Vincent a wry look.

“Ah, not brandy. I think that is for your mother. Like we talked about. Remember?”

She bit her lip and nodded sagely, leaving me to wonder idly what their unspoken conversation was actually about.

“Oh, I see. Mom? Can you come help me get this open?”

I gave them both an odd look but stood, kneeling in front of the squirming puppy held in Angelique’s lap. It lapped eagerly at my face. I pulled back, giving Vincent a sour look. He just laughed, watching me.

“Open it, cara mia.”

“Yeah, open it, Mom!”

I fiddled with the barrel. After a moment, the hinged portion popped open and something clattered into my hand. It was . . . shiny. Sparkly. A ring. A diamond ring.

An engagement ring.

I stared at it. Then at Vincent, who was smiling at me tenderly. Then at my daughter, who was grinning from ear to ear. Clearly, she had been in on this. Everyone had. Even the damned puppy.

And then Vincent dropped to his knee and I stopped thinking. Angelique and the puppy scooted to the side. I gave her a quick glance to see if she was freaking out. She wasn’t.

But her mama definitely was.

I loved him. I couldn’t imagine loving him more. But was I ready for this? What about the five families? What kind of life could we actually create together? What could we build?

Vincent took the ring from me and took my left hand.

“Francesca Feluciano. Will you do me the honor of becoming my wife?”

My mouth opened. Closed. Opened again. His smile grew a little wider. I knew I would never live down this moment. I could hear him telling our grandkids about the time he made their grandmother speechless.

No one would believe it.

Grandkids . . . I wanted that. I wanted that with him. I wanted everything.

“Yes,” I whispered fervently. “Yes, Vincent Margarelli. I will be your wife.”

He let out a breath in relief. I realized he hadn’t been sure of my answer. He really hadn’t known what I would say. And to be sure, a whole list of concerns were springing into my mind. I pushed them aside. I would enjoy this moment, come hell or high water.

He slipped the ring onto my finger. I closed my eyes when they began to water, and when I opened them, I saw that his eyes were watering too. He leaned in to kiss me, keeping it PG, thankfully.



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