Page 75 of The Wrong Mafia Bride
She shivers at my words, and I feel it everywhere we are touching.
"So romantic," she says, but there is heat in her voice.
"I have my moments." I kiss her forehead, then her nose, then her mouth—soft and quick. "But right now, we should probably get down before Dante actually does call the National Guard."
"Spoilsport."
"Safety-conscious."
"Same thing."
I help her shift so she can climb down first, keeping my hands on her waist to steady her while she finds the footholds. Once she is safely on the ground, I follow, dropping down beside her with significantly less grace.
She immediately loops her arm through mine, leaning into my side with easy affection that makes my chest warm.
"Thank you," she says quietly as we start walking back toward the house.
"For what?"
"For coming to find me. For sitting with me. For listening." She squeezes my arm. "For not making me feel crazy for wanting this."
"You are not crazy, Bella." I press a kiss to the top of her head. "You are brave and honest and exactly what we need."
"We?"
"All three of us." I pull her closer. "Dante needs someone who will stand up to him. Luca needs someone who will match his chaos. And I need?—"
I stop, not sure how to finish that sentence.
"What do you need?" she prompts.
"Someone who sees me," I say finally. "Not just the soldier or the enforcer or Dante's right hand. Someone who sees all of it and stays anyway."
She stops walking, turning to face me fully in the growing darkness. Her hand comes up to cup my cheek, and the gesture is so tender it makes my throat tight.
"I see you, Gabriel," she says softly. "All of you. And I am not going anywhere."
I kiss her again because I cannot help it, because she said exactly what I needed to hear without me having to ask for it.
"Found her," I announce.
Dante's head snaps up, and the relief that floods his expression is almost comical. "Where the hell were you?"
"Watching the sunset," Rosalina says breezily, like she was not sitting on a ten-foot fence having an existential crisis and making out with me. "It was beautiful. You should try it sometime."
"I was about to—" Dante starts, then stops, shaking his head. "You are going to give me a heart attack."
"Probably." She walks up to him and rises on her toes to kiss his cheek. "But you love me anyway."
The words—casual, almost throwaway—make Dante go very still. She said love. Maybe as a joke, maybe as a deflection, but she said it.
"Yeah," Dante says quietly, his hand coming up to cup her face. "I do."
The moment stretches between them, weighted and significant, and I catch Luca's eye where he is leaning against the staircase watching this entire exchange.
He grins at me, and I know exactly what he is thinking.
She is ours.
