The Morretti Brothers Book 2

The two walk inside the Italian restaurant, and Anna rolls her eyes. She feels like she is right out of a scene from The Godfather. Anastasia tries to breathe normally as all eyes in the room flick to her and Marcello. She is also desperately trying to ignore the tingling feeling from Marcello's hand resting on her lower back.

Now Anna thinks she really should have changed her three-day-old T-shirt, and the coffee smell isn't really cutting it for such a fancy place. Marcello notices as she starts to fidget.

“Is something wrong, bella?” Anna blushes as the Italian compliment rolls out of Marcello's lips. Anna looks down at her attire and back to him.

“I should have changed. I feel so out of place,” she mutters. Marcello rubs his hand in circles on her back.

“You are beautiful. If anyone has a problem with what you are wearing, they can answer to me,” Marcello growls, and Anna gasps at his honesty.

“Mr. Morretti, I didn't realize you would be here this evening.” An Italian man rushes toward the two.

“Is that a problem?”

“N-no, of course not. Your table is ready for you.” The stuttering Italian man takes them to the back of the restaurant. He tries to make conversation with Marcello, but Anna realizes that Marcello is not listening. Instead, his eyes rest on her. When her eyes lock with his, he smiles.

Anna's knees go weak, but she does her best to keep herself upright. She shouldn't be feeling this way. She mentally scolds herself. Marcello holds out a chair for Anna, who offers him a quiet thank you.

“Shall I give the kitchen your order, Mr. Morretti?”

“Avremo i gnocchi e due bicchieri di vino bianco.”

“Actually,” Anna interrupts, having understood every word. “I'll have the lasagna and a glass of merlot.”

Marcello waves away the waiter and stares at his companion, eyes wide.

“You speak Italian?”

“My mother is Italian,” Anna replies. “Her parents still live in Sicily.”

“You could not have inherited the red hair from her,” Marcello says, and Anna laughs. One hand moves to touch her hair.

“No. My dad. Scottish blood.”

“Interesting,” Marcello murmurs.

“So, why exactly did I need to have dinner with you?”

“It is not every day I get the company of a beautiful woman,” Marcello replies as their wine is set down on the table. Marc raises his glass, and Anna copies.

“How long until someone comes out and whacks me with a cannoli?” Anna jokes. Marcello looks at her for a moment before cracking a smile.

“Because he left the gun and took the cannoli,” Marcello laughs. “I am not the Godfather, bella.”

“È certamente meglio che il film, you are certainly better looking than the movie,” Anna says.

“Gracie, bella.” The two clink wine glasses.

They eat in silence for a moment before Anna asks a question.

“You said you moved what was left of your family here…”

“Yes?”

“Who is your family?”

“I have a brother.”

“What is his name?”

“Luciano, but he goes by Luca. He is married and has two children.” Marcello smiles as he talks about his family.

“Do you have siblings?” he asks, and Anna tenses.

She doesn't like to talk about her family at the best of times, but this was a tricky subject. Lucy and Elliot didn't even know the answer. They just assumed she was an only child.

“I had a brother,” Anna says quietly.

“I'm sorry. I can't imagine what that must feel like.”

“It's okay. It was a long time ago. I don't like to talk about it.”

“Of course. Happier things… Dessert?” Marcello smiles at Anna, and she feels her lips tug up. Marcello is the first person she has told about her brother, about Charles. And he is the first person to make her smile after talking about him.

The two laugh and drink. Anna is surprised that she actually enjoys herself. Marcello can't keep his eyes off her, especially after learning she has Italian blood. He can't help but think that his mother would approve.

***

Anna wakes slowly the next morning. She had an enjoyable dinner, although she would never admit it aloud. It had been a while since her last date, probably high school. Not that tonight was a date. It was a forced dinner. She was simply returning a phone. Anna will never have to see the Italian Mob boss again.

Anna slowly opens her eyes to take in her surroundings. She looks at the white ceiling and can't help but notice just how white it is. Her eyes move to the light in the center of the ceiling, a chandelier.

“What the hell?” Anna rubs her eyes.

“Funny, I thought it was heaven,” a low voice with a slight accent answers her.

“Oh my god!” Anna sits up suddenly. Marcello sits up next to her.

“Marcello is fine, bella. But if you want to call me God…” Marcello chuckles, and Anna notices his eyes sparkle.

“No!” Anna whisper-yells. Anna swings her legs out of the bed, and it is then she notices she is naked. No clothes. None. “I'm naked,” she says to herself.

“Oh my god!” Anna says in realization. “Did we…?” She looks back at Marcello.

“Yes,” Marcello answers with a smirk.

“Oh my god,” Anna repeats herself silently.

“What's wrong?” Marcello asks.

“Oh my god,” Anna repeats herself as she gets up to get dressed. She moves quickly, trying to avoid the Italian's gaze.

“You're acting like you are a virgin,” Marcello says with a laugh. The comment causes Anastasia to freeze. Her hands begin to shake. “Shit,” Marcello says under his breath. He grabs Anna's wrist, but she pulls away from him.

“Don't touch me.”