My Father Traded Me for the Don's Sister, So I Married the Don novel · Chapter 6 of 32

Chapter 6: The Shawl

Luca's POV

Costanzo had the nerve to arrive at six in the morning, two days after he gave me his daughter.

I stood at the window of the hall with my coffee and watched his Lincoln roll up the drive in the grey light.

Two of his men got out first.

Then Aurelio, in a black overcoat, with an umbrella and a white box tied with ribbon.

He looked up at my house and smiled.

"Stay upstairs," I told Raffaela.

She was behind me on the stairs in jeans and Gemma's green coat, her hair a mess, with the sheet marks still on her cheek.

"It's my father."

"Which is why."

"Luca." She came down two steps. "I've let him walk away from every conversation I ever tried to have."

She lifted her chin.

"I'm not hiding from this one."

I could have ordered her back.

I looked at her instead, and saw the line of her jaw, and let it go.

"Stand beside me," I said. "Say what you like. If you want it over, tell me, and it's over."

"Over how?"

"I'll have him carried out."

Something almost like a smile crossed her face.

"I'll keep that in mind."

I told Silvio to let him into the hall and no farther.

Aurelio came in shaking rain off his umbrella.

Ten of my men stood along the walls.

He nodded to them, one at a time, wanting to be liked.

"Don Vannelli. Raffi." He opened his arms. "My girl. Come here."

Raffaela did not move.

He lowered his arms slowly.

His smile stayed where it was.

"Newlyweds," he said to the room, jovial. "Look at her. She's glowing."

He turned to me.

"Tell me, Don Luca, is she being a good wife? Does she keep you warm?"

The men along the wall went very still.

I put my coffee cup down on the table, carefully, so I wouldn't break it.

"Careful," I said.

"A father asks."

"You asked it in front of my men."

"Father's right." He laughed his soft laugh. "I brought a gift."

He held out the white box.

Raffaela took it, because her hands had been trained for twenty-six years to take what he handed her.

She untied the ribbon.

Inside lay a shawl, hand-knitted, blue and cream, with a border of tiny leaves.

It was beautiful work.

"From the guest," Aurelio said fondly. "She made it for the bride. She heard there was a wedding."

I looked at the shawl.

I looked at the border of leaves.

"Gemma never knitted a stitch in her life," I said.

"People learn."

"Not my sister."

"She has had a long year, Don Luca. A lot of afternoons." He spread his hands. "You'd be surprised what she's learned."

It was said lightly, and it landed hard in my chest.

I did not hit him.

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