Accardi (Genevieve and Matteo) by Allison Franklin novel Chapter 113

Chapter One Hundred and Thirteen

Genevieve’s entire body liquified at the sound of Matteo’s gentle voice. She swallowed hard and tried to stifle the sudden trembling of her hands before she turned to face him. She drew in a sharp breath at the sight of him. He cut a figure in his tailor–made black suit with a thin black tie. He was freshly shaved, his hair was combed back and his hands were shoved deep into his pockets. He flashed her a dimple–inducing smile that weakened her knees and forced her

to sit on the stool behind her.

Matteo looked down at his feet before he moved toward her. His hands remained in his pockets as she watched him step over the candles. Right before he got to her though he lifted his right hand and plucked a random flower from a vase. When he stopped in front of her he held the white peony out to her and she took it with a shy smile.

“Matteo…”

“How are you feeling?” he asked softly, resting his hand on her stomach as she had done so many times herself.

Gen placed her hand over his. “We’re doing good.”

His mouth quirked and his smile grew bigger. “We…” His eyes rose to meet hers and she inhaled sharply again at the raw joy she saw shining in them. “I love the sound of that.”

Matteo cupped the side of her face and kissed her with such tenderness that she forgot to breathe. He pulled back and placed his forehead against hers.

“You look devastating,” he whispered. “Just when I think I am used to your beauty, you stun me.”

“You’re quite remarkable yourself, Matteo,” she whispered back.

Matteo pulled away to brush his thumb across her cheek. “I’m only appealing with you on my arm.”

“I think every woman in New York would disagree with you,” Gen teased.

He shrugged and sat on the stool next to hers. He glanced toward the door before looking back at her. “I was sitting right where you are when I first saw you,” Matteo began, Gen’s heart flipped and her stomach filled with butterflies. He picked up her hand and kissed the back of it. He turned his head again to look at the door. “You were in a group of ten and yet only you stood out. God, I’d only ever seen beauty like that in a picture.” He looked back at her, his eyes cast into a dark brown due to the candles flickering from every angle around them. “I knew who you were but you still took me by surprise, still took my breath away.”

“Matteo…”

“I thought God had left me,” he admitted, looking down at her hand and the fingers he rubbed between his own. “Then you walked up to me and proved me wrong. So very wrong.”

“Can I ask you something I’ve always wondered about?” Gen asked carefully, worried she would mess up the flow of his rehearsed lines.

“Anything,” he whispered, gently kissing the back of her hand.

“Why did you tell me your real name that night? When no one else is allowed to speak it. Why did you trust me with it?”

“Is it not obvious?” he asked, his thumb still tracing the delicate curves of her hand.

She shook her head before realizing he couldn’t see it. “No, not to me.”

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Chapter One Hundred and Thirteen

“You were my gift from God,” he answered, his dark eyes rising slowly to meet her gaze. “All of the trauma, the heartache, the anger, the sin… you were my one miracle. My one chance, Genevieve, I refused to squander that with a fake name or one I never wanted. I was in love with you the minute I looked up and our eyes met. I knew right then… that very second… that it would lead to this…”

Here it was. Gen’s breath caught in her throat as he reached in his pocket and pulled out… a lighter. Gen’s brow crashed down as he held the lighter op for

her. She looked from the lighter to his amused face and back.

“…”

“Do you need a light?” he asked again. “Those were the first words you spoke to me. The ones that sealed my fate. The ones that took all free will from me.”

He set the lighter down on the counter and it suddenly dawned on her. It was the exact zippo lighter she’d used to light his cigarette. She knew it was because it had a smudge of red nail polish near the bottom from when she was packing it after painting her nails.

“How did you…”

“Do you remember finding my hoodie in your carry–on the second time you left to go back to Boston?” Matteo asked. Gen nodded absently, still staring at

the lighter. “I saw it there and… the idea came to me.”

He flicked it open and inside stood the ring that she’d already seen before sitting in its black velvet box, hidden away in his secret drawer. He had hollowed

out the lighter so he could retrofit it into a ring box. Tears started to spring to her eyes as he took her left hand and sank to his knee.

“Matteo…”

“Genevieve… I loved you before I even knew you. I vowed you would be mine the moment you spoke to me. Every moment I spend without you is agony that can only be extinguished when you hold me in your arms. I call you weakness, but I am the one who is weak. I am the one who cannot breathe without you. Every time I think I cannot possibly love you more, or that my heart could not possibly get bigger, you do something to show me I’ve never been more

wrong.”

He shook his head. “I want you to be my Donna. To help lead my family with the strength, courage, tenacity and vigor that you’ve displayed countless times. I want you to bring peace to my allies by bringing terror down on those who go against us. I want you to make the Accardi name the most feared in the

world because of your intellect, determination, and fury.”

Matteo stood and cupped her face as if he couldn’t go without touching her in that moment. Gen swallowed at the intensity in his eyes.

“More than that though, Genevieve Belle Sinclair, I want you to be my wife. I want to wake up with you each morning and give me a reason to go to bed every night just so I can have you in my arms. I want to make you proud. I want to make you feel loved every second of every day. I want to watch you become a mother to our children. To watch you grow old. To die knowing there was no one else on Earth who was cherished more than you.”

His hand tightened and he stepped closer. “I want you: today, tomorrow, in this life and the next. I want to declare my love to you before my men, before our families, before God. To promise to be your man, to be your security, to be yours… forever. Genevieve… my–weakness… Marry me,” he finished with a whisper.

Gen swiped a stray tear that dared to fall before she gave it permission. She bit her lip and smiled down at the floor. She looked back up at his expectant

face.

“Do you remember the first words you spoke to me?” she asked. Matteo’s nervous expression shifted and his eyes crinkled as he smiled. “Fuck yes,” she whispered.

Matteo’s head dropped at the same time as his other hand cupped her face. His kiss was passionate, the granting of a wish made so long ago on the day they’d met. Gen wrapped her hands around his neck, pulling him closer as tears of happiness spilled down her cheeks. He broke away and reached for the lighter. He took the ring out and placed it on her finger. It was the perfect fit, but she’d already known that from when she’d tried it on weeks earlier. She

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Chapter One Hundred and Thirteen

held it up and studied it in the candle light.

There were three delicate bands that interwove with each other: one silver, one black and one gold. Two large diamonds sat on either side of an empty

space.

“It’s beautiful. Unique, Matteo, I love it,” she whispered in awe of the design, the likes of which she’d never seen.

“It’s not done yet,” he admitted.

Her brow furrowed as she looked up at him. “What do you mean?” she asked, studying it harder.

“Can I see your mother’s ring?” he asked.

Gen let him take her right hand and shimmy the opal ring from her finger. He then took his engagement ring back. She watched, transfixed, as he twisted the opal ring through his engagement ring. It fit perfectly, like her mother’s ring had always belonged nestled safely between the two diamonds. He slid the ring combination back on her finger, brought it up to his lips and kissed it, while his eyes bore into hers. With her mouth still agape, she held it up again in disbelief.

“It’s…”

“Do you like it?”

“No… Like isn’t a strong enough word. Wait…” She studied the ring closer. “When I saw it the first time,” she started, her cheeks heating at the fact that she’d seen it long before he’d meant for her to. “It was only black and silver.”

She looked up at him curiously and he smirked mischeviously. He took her hand again and ran his finger over the interweaving bands. “I had the gold one added after.”

“After what?” she asked.

His eyes flicked up. “After I asked your father for permission and he gave me your mother’s wedding ring along with his blessing.”

Gen’s breath left her lungs in a violent whoosh. “Wh–what? You talked to my dad?”

“It’s only customary to ask for a woman’s hand, isn’t it?” he asked with a devilish smirk.

“When… where… how did… what did he… What?!”

Matteo chuckled and tugged on her hand, pulling her from the stool. He wrapped one arm around her waist and caught her face in his hand again before he kissed her hard enough to bend her backward.

“We’ll talk about it on the plane,” he promised.

“Plane?”

“Yes, the plane we’re taking to Italy, my beloved fiancé.”

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Accardi