Why the Mafia’s Wife Kills Chapter 17
Lucius and I got married on the beach.
Only a few close friends came.
He wore a suit. I wore a simple white dress.
It was a small, quiet ceremony.
We stayed in a beach villa that night.
We sat on the balcony together, feeling the wind.
He wrapped his arms around me from behind, his chin on my shoulder.
“Simone.”
“Mm?”
“Thank you.” he said.
“For what?”
“For marrying me.’
His voice was low and soft.
“I struck gold.”
I laughed and turned to face him.
“You idiot.”
He leaned in and kissed me.
Married life was calm and ordinary.
He went to work. I ran my studio.
We ate dinner together every night.
On weekends, we went to movies or shopped.
Sometimes we just stayed home.
He read. I sketched designs.
One night I worked late.
He came to pick me up.
It was raining outside.
He stood at the door holding an umbrella.
“How long have you been waiting?” I asked.
“Not long.”
He tilted the umbrella over me.
His own shoulder got soaked.
In the car, he handed me a paper bag.
I opened it. A wool cardigan, soft to the touch.
“Saw it on the way here. Thought you’d like it.” he said.
“You’re giving me a scarf in summer?”
“It’ll be perfect for autumn.” he smiled.
I wrapped it around myself and looked in the mirror.
“Do I look good?”
“You look beautiful.” he said.
We drove home. The rain got heavier.
He cooked dinner. I watched TV in the living room.
The news was talking about the Lombardi Group.
Said they’d just landed a huge project.
Dante spoke on screen. He looked sharp and in control.
Lucius carried out a steaming Italian pizza.
“Dinner’s ready.”
“Coming.”
While we ate, he said. “I’m going to Italy next month.”
“How long?”
“A week. Can you manage alone?”
“Of course I can.” I said.
“I have a client commissioning a gown.”
He looked at me. “Why don’t you come with me? Make it a trip.”
“I can’t leave the studio. Maybe next time.”
“Okay.”
Before bed, he held me close. “Simone.”
“Mm?”
“Do you ever regret it?” he asked.
“Regret what?”
“Marrying me.”
I turned to look at him. “Have you been drinking?”
“No.” he laughed. “Just asking.”
“I don’t regret it.”
I asked. “Do you regret marrying me? I’ve been married once before.”
“Don’t be ridiculous.”
He pinched my cheek.
“I wish I’d married you sooner.”
“There you go.” I turned off the light. “Let’s sleep.”
in the dark, he held me tighter.
I could hear his heartbeat.
Steady. Strong. Safe.
The next spring, I got pregnant.
Two lines on the pregnancy test.
I sat on the bathroom floor staring at it.
Lucius knocked on the door.
“Simone, are you okay?”
I opened the door and handed him the test.
He stared at it for a full minute.
Then he suddenly lifted me and spun me around.
“Hey, slow down!” I laughed, hitting his chest.
“I’m gonna be a dad!”
His eyes were bright.
“Simone, I’m gonna be a dad!”
“I know, I know.” I laughed.
“Put me down. I’m dizzy.”
He set me down gently and knelt, pressing his ear to my stomach.
“He’s too little to hear anything.” I said.
“I can hear him.” he said seriously.
“He’s saying, I love you, Daddy.”
My throat tightened. Tears fell.
“Why are you crying?” He panicked, wiping my tears.
“I’m happy.” I said.
The first trimester was rough.
I threw up everything I ate.
Lucius learned to cook.
He made me something different every day.
When I got sick, he held my hair and handed me water.
When my legs cramped at midnight, he got up and massaged them for half an hour.
“You’re too good to me.’
I said one night.
“It makes me nervous.”
“Why would you be nervous?”
He lay down and pulled me close.
“You’re my wife.
Who else would I treat this well?”
“I’m scared this is a dream.” I whispered.
“And I’ll wake up and it’ll be gone.”
He took my hand and pressed it to his chest.
“Feel that? My heart is real. I’m real.”
Our daughter was born in winter.
Six pounds and three ounces.
Lucius named her Sunne.
“Why Sunne?” I asked.
“Like the sun. Warm.”