Angelo's POV
I watched Elena's timid smile spread across her face as my mother cooed over her excitedly.
"It's really lovely to meet you Signora Di Mauro (Mrs)," Elena spoke sweetly.
"Are you Italian?" My mother gasped softly in surprise.
"I have it in my blood but I was born in America." She stated. "I am fluent though. My father made sure of that."
"Oh, how lovely. Are you here on holiday then?"
"Sì, Mamma. Please, stop interrogating her." I quickly answered my mother before Elena's nerves took over while thinking about how to explain the reason she's in Sicily.
"My goodness, Angelo, you are acting like I'm scrutinizing her life. Relax, would you?" My mother swatted her hand at me before turning towards me and narrowing her eyes.
"Are you nervous? I cannot remember when last I saw you like this?" She giggled as her eyes bounced between Elena and me. I rolled mine while mumbling beneath my breath.
"Let's make him even more nervous." She whispered to Elena, still aiming for me to hear her.
"How about you help me in the kitchen, only me and you, sì (yes)?" She said loudly while grabbing Elena's hand, linking their arms together and guiding her into the house. I could hear Elena chuckling while my mother continued with the low conversation.
I shook my head and walked towards the railing, gently placing the rose upon the small table. Gio appeared shortly after, standing beside me. He was silent for some time, but I knew he was itching to speak on something. Kat emerged with two tumblers of whiskey and handed them to both of us. I gratefully nodded my head as she turned to sit upon the swinging chair behind us.
"Red, Angelo?" Gio finally piped up. For fucks sake, here we go.
See, what I told Elena about the roses from my sister's grave was the truth. However, I left out a minor detail. My mother and I made a deal. I'm not a very talkative person, especially when it comes to my emotions. I know it's a negative trait of mine and my family knows to leave me be. However, my mother came up with a plan so that she could keep an eye on me and put herself at ease.
She placed that pot plant by Aurora's tombstone, filled with different colored roses. The deal was to fetch a rose before visiting her and pick the color corresponding with my emotions at that time. Each color represents a different sentiment, but I've never brought my mother a red rose. I've never had to. However, something about having Elena standing there so respectfully, without a shred of judgment and pure admiration in her gorgeous eyes did something to me. The supportive stance she took and tenderly caring gestures she made at the graveyard made my heart race. I know I feel something much deeper for this woman, I just cannot fully decipher what. We've known each other for just over a month. Can one even love another in such a short time?
I care about her, that much I know for sure, and there is a magnitude of passionate chemistry between us. But love is an extremely powerful word, one I have never taken lightly. Also one I've never said truthfully either, to any woman.
"Don't make a big deal out of it, Gio, because I can't give you a proper answer like the one you are searching for. Mamma won't be around forever, I needed to bring her some sort of happiness." I mentioned before taking a long swig of my drink. I noticed out the corner of my eye as Gio looked over his shoulder to meet Kat's gaze in some silent understanding between them.
"Are you trying to convince me or yourself, Cugino (cousin)? Have you forgotten who she is?" He uttered.
"No, I haven't fucking forgotten who she is, Giovanni! But her surname doesn't make her who she is." I snapped back at him.
YOU ARE READING
Beautiful Mistake
RomanceBook 3 in the 'Beautiful' trilogy. Elena De Luca, the 26-year-old Mafia Princess. The daughter of the notorious Dominic De Luca, the Don of the Italian Mafia of New York. She has always been the light of her family, the life of the party, a free an...