Page 67 of Ghost Ribbon

“I’ll join.”

His lips met mine in a kiss that stole every word right out of my mouth. It wasn’t rushed or rough like some of the others had been.

When he pulled back just enough to speak, his forehead rested lightly against mine for a second.

Then we got out of the car.

My legs felt a little wobbly as I stood. Alexei didn’t let go of my hand. He just laced our fingers together and started walking.

He was coming to dinner.

With my family.

As my “boyfriend.”

Chapter 19 - Alexei

Marco’s mother stood there in an apron dusted with flour. Her tired eyes lit up the moment she saw us. She looked exactly as I remembered.

“Marco! Tesoro, you’re home!” she exclaimed, pulling him into a quick hug before her gaze shifted to me. It softened even further, brightening with something close to delight.

“And Alexei! You came! I was hoping you would. Come in, come in, both of you. Dinner is almost ready.”

I slipped the mask into place, the charming, polite smile that had disarmed people. It was warm, respectful, the perfect picture of a devoted boyfriend who was grateful to be invited into the family home.

“Thank you for having me, ma’am,” I said smoothly. “It’s very kind of you.”

She waved a hand, already ushering us inside. “None of that ‘ma’am’ nonsense. Call me Elena. Or Mama, if you’re comfortable. You’re family now, sì?”

I didn’t correct her. I simply inclined my head and let her guide us through the small entryway. The house smelled like garlic and fresh bread and something sweet.

Marco stayed close to my side, his hand still in mine until his mother gently pried him away for another quick hug. I let him go without protest, watching the way his shoulders relaxed just a fraction in her arms. Elena led us into the dining room.

At the head of the table sat Marco’s father, a solid-looking man with kind eyes and a newspaper folded beside his plate. He stood the moment we entered, wiping his hands on a napkin before extending one toward me with a genuine smile.

“Alexei, right? Pleasure to meet you properly, son,” he said, his handshake firm but friendly. “Elena has been talking about you since you came by last time. Says you’ve been good for our boy. I’m Marco’s father. Call me Giovanni.”

I shook his hand with the same polished charm, meeting his eyes directly. “The pleasure is mine, sir. Your son speaks very highly of his family.”

Giovanni chuckled, clapping me on the shoulder once before sitting back down. “Good man. Sit, sit. Make yourself at home.”

Elena was already bustling around the table, pulling out chairs. “Here, Alexei, you sit here. Marco, next to him. Luca, move over a little.”

That was when I noticed the boy at the far end of the table.

Luca.

Marco’s younger brother. He just sat there, arms crossed, staring like he was going to stab me. I think he wanted to.

I knew he was mute so I didn’t expect words. But the glare spoke volumes. Protective. Suspicious. He didn’t like me. Not even a little.

Interesting.

I met his gaze evenly for a beat, letting just a flicker of my real self show through the mask - cold, assessing - before the polite smile returned.

Elena either didn’t notice or chose to ignore it, already guiding Marco into the seat beside mine. “There we go. You two sit together.”

Marco slid into the chair next to me without protest, close enough that our knees brushed under the table. I felt the faint tremor still running through him and rested my hand lightly on his thigh beneath the tablecloth, squeezing once in reassurance. Or warning.