Page 82 of Married to the Ruthless Mafia Heir

"Elena."

"Yeah?"

"This is the first time Moretti Manor has felt like home."

"This is your home." I touched his face. "Welcome home, Dante."

Dante caught my hand. "This is our home, Elena."

His deep eyes threatened to pull me in.

And I knew that coming back to Moretti Manor this time, everything would be different.

When I woke the next morning, the bed beside me was empty. I threw on a robe and went downstairs to find Dante in the kitchen, clumsily frying eggs.

Two cups of coffee sat on the counter, a plate of cut fruit, and toast that looked slightly burnt.

"Why are you up so early?" I leaned against the doorframe.

"Couldn't sleep." He slid the eggs onto a plate and brought them over. "You stood in that cemetery so long yesterday, I worried you were tired. Made you breakfast."

I looked at the misshapen egg on the plate and couldn't help smiling. "You can cook?"

"Nope." He said it matter-of-factly. "Just learned. Marco taught me."

"Marco can cook?"

"He said when he was out on his own, he had to learn everything." Dante pushed the plate toward me. "Try it."

I sat down and took a bite. A bit salty, overcooked, but seeing his expectant look, I nodded seriously. "It's good."

Dante relaxed, sat across from me, and tried a bite himself. He immediately frowned. "Too salty."

"A little salt doesn't matter." I smiled and pulled his plate over. "Give me yours too. I'll eat it for you."

Dante watched me, the corner of his mouth lifting. "Fine. I'll learn to cook; you eat."

"Deal." I grinned. "No giving up halfway."

"I won't give up." He said, "I keep my promises to you."

Looking at him, I suddenly felt like this man fumbling in the kitchen and the Don who commanded New York's underworld were two completely different people.

But I knew both sides were him.

After breakfast, Dante walked with me through the grounds. The morning air was crisp, the garden flowers in bloom, dewdrops glittering on petals in the sunlight.

"Here," I pointed to a corner deep in the garden. "I used to hide here and cry."

Dante stopped. "Why?"

"When I first came to the manor, I didn't know anything. Salvador scolded me for messing up, and I didn't dare talk back, so I hid here and cried." I smiled. "Later, Lucia found me, gave me hot cocoa, and said crybabies never grow up. After that, I planted some seeds in this corner, hoping they'd bloom into something beautiful."

Dante didn't speak. He walked to that corner, crouched down, and pushed aside the grass. Sure enough, a small patch of white flowers bloomed there.

"What are these?" he asked.

"Hyacinths." Surprise lit my voice. "I can't believe they survived."