Chapter 11 - THE DINNER
Life settled into a beautiful, predictable rhythm.
By the second month, the dark cloud of the syndicate wars had completely lifted.
Marcus took over the legitimate shipping operations, utilizing his sharp mind to double the family’s legal profits, while Adrian maintained control over the underground elements, slowly transitioning them into clean businesses.
One Friday evening, I was up in the master suite, getting ready for dinner.
Adrian had told me to dress warmly. We were going out.
I stood in front of the mirror, adjusting a simple black turtleneck and a long wool coat.
I stared at my reflection.
The bruise on my neck was completely gone. The fear in my eyes was gone.
I looked... powerful.
The bedroom door clicked open.
Adrian walked in, wearing a sharp charcoal suit. He paused in the doorway, just watching me.
“You’re staring,” I said, catching his eye in the mirror.
“I’m admiring my own luck,” he replied, walking up behind me.
He reached into his pocket and pulled out a long, velvet jewelry box.
“Adrian,” I warned softly. “You buy me too much.”
“I haven't bought you anything in three days,” he countered smoothly. “Open it.”
I rolled my eyes playfully and clicked the box open.
Inside wasn't a diamond necklace or a flashy bracelet.
It was a pale blue silk scarf.
I froze, my breath catching in my throat.
It was the exact same color as the scarf I had worn on the night of the engagement dinner. The night he forced me to take it off to reveal the bruise.
I looked at him in the mirror, confused.
“Why?” I whispered.
Adrian took the silk scarf out of the box.
He stepped closer, his chest pressing against my back.
Slowly, gently, he draped the silk around my neck.
“Because the last time you wore this color, it was to hide your pain,” Adrian said, his voice deep and rough with emotion. “I want you to wear it tonight as a reminder of what you survived. You didn't just survive them, Hannah. You conquered them.”
He tied a loose, elegant knot at my collarbone.
He leaned down and kissed the spot on my neck where the bruise used to be.
“You own this color now,” he whispered against my skin.
A shiver ran down my spine.
I turned around and wrapped my arms around his neck, kissing him deeply.
“You are completely unfair, you know that?” I murmured against his lips.
He smirked. “I’m a mafia boss, Hannah. Fair isn’t exactly in my job description.”
He grabbed my hand. “Come on. We have a reservation.”
We walked downstairs and got into the back of his waiting black town car.
Evan was driving.
“Where are we going?” I asked as the car pulled away from the estate.
“Somewhere we’ve never been,” Adrian replied cryptically.
Twenty minutes later, the car pulled up to a small, unassuming Italian restaurant in Queens.
I looked out the window in shock.
“Adrian, this is...”
“Luigi’s,” Adrian finished. “Your mother mentioned it was your favorite place when you were a teenager.”
I couldn't believe it.
The billionaire head of the Romano family had brought me to a tiny, family-owned pasta joint in Queens.
He opened the door for me, and we walked inside.
The restaurant was completely empty.
He had rented out the entire place.
There was a single table set in the center of the room with a red checkered tablecloth, two candles, and a bottle of expensive red wine.
“You rented out Luigi’s?” I laughed, taking my coat off.
“I wanted privacy,” he said, pulling my chair out for me.
We sat down. The owner, an old man named Luigi who I hadn't seen in ten years, came out beaming, serving us massive plates of homemade lasagna.
We ate. We drank wine. We laughed.
It was the most normal, perfect night of my life.
But as the plates were cleared, Adrian’s demeanor shifted.
He grew quiet. Nervous.
May you like
I had never seen Adrian Romano nervous.
He reached into his jacket pocket.
