Chapter 5 - The Dinner Table Truce
At 7:00 PM, the smell of roasted garlic, rosemary, and seared beef filled my apartment.
I walked into the kitchen to find Adrian wearing one of my floral kitchen aprons over his tailored dress trousers. His expensive shirt sleeves were rolled up, his forearms dusted with flour as he rolled out fresh pasta dough on my wooden cutting board.
I stood in the doorway, unable to stop a small smile from forming on my face.
"The feared Don of Manhattan, making linguine in a pink floral apron," I teased, leaning against the doorframe.
Adrian turned his head, smirking slightly. "If Marco takes a picture of this, I'll have to eliminate him."
"He's standing in the hallway outside with three machine guns, Adrian. I think his secret is safe."
Adrian set his rolling pin down, wiped his hands on a clean towel, and walked over to the stove to stir a rich tomato sauce that had been simmering for two hours.
"My grandmother taught me how to make this sauce when I was eight years old," he said softly, his voice echoing with rare nostalgia. "Before my father pulled me into the business. Before everything became about territory, blood, and money."
I walked over, standing beside him at the stove, watching the steam rise from the pot. "You never told me about your grandmother."
"You never asked," he replied softly, looking down at me. "Or rather... I never gave you the chance to ask. I was always running, Claire. Always looking over my shoulder, waiting for a bullet or a subpoena."
"Why did you marry me, Adrian?" I asked quietly, looking directly into his eyes. "Really? Three years ago, your father had just been murdered. You could have married any woman from the five families to secure an alliance. Why me? A simple legal analyst at your firm?"
Adrian turned off the burner. He turned his body completely toward me, his hands reaching out to rest gently on my hips, pulling me half an inch closer.
"Because the first day you walked into my office with those files," Adrian said, his voice dropping into a deep, hypnotic register, "you didn't look at me like I was a monster. You didn't look at my last name with fear or greed. You looked at me like I was just a tired man carrying too much weight."
My breath hitched in my throat. "Adrian..."
"I married you because you were the only real thing in my life," he whispered, his face descending slowly until his forehead rested against mine. "And I pushed you away because I was terrified that my darkness would destroy your light. But sixty-three days ago, when you walked out of that penthouse... I realized the light didn't leave. The whole world just went dark."
My heart pounded so hard I was certain he could hear it. I reached out, my fingers trembling as I touched the sharp edge of his jawline.
"You broke my heart, Adrian," I murmured, tears brimming in my eyes.
"I know," he breathed, his lips lightly brushing my cheek, tracing the line of my tear. "And I will spend the rest of my life piecing it back together. Starting with this baby."
He slid down onto his knees on my kitchen tile floor.
He leaned forward, pressing his warm face against my green sweater, right over the swelling curve of my stomach. He closed his eyes, his broad shoulders rising and falling, his hands wrapping gently around my waist.
May you like
"Hello, little one," Adrian whispered against my belly, his voice breaking with raw emotion. "It's your father. I'm sorry I was late. I'm never leaving again."
I stood there, my fingers running through his dark, thick hair, tears streaming silently down my face as the icy walls between us began to crumble into dust.
