Sweet Temptation: An Age Gap Arranged Marriage Romance

“Is Dad a bad man?”

I almost fell off the ladder, my breath lodging in my throat. Daniele had said one or two words at the most in the two weeks since his birthday, and now he chose the morning before Christmas Eve for a loaded question like that. I waited for my initial shock to fade before I hung up another ornament on our Christmas tree. Then I slowly climbed down.

Daniele sat among the boxes with Christmas decorations, which I’d bought because I worried Gaia’s old things would bring back too many hurtful memories, while Simona ripped apart the silver tinsel that she discovered in one of them.

I sat down beside Daniele, searching his face. He was spinning a red ornament on the floor, watching it with a little frown. Loulou had dashed off the moment Elia had carried the tree into the living room this morning and refused to go anywhere near it. “Who’d tell you something like that?” It couldn’t be something he had decided for himself. He was too young.

“Mom.” His voice was a fluttering whisper and my heart ached hearing it. He still didn’t look at me, only at the ornament.

“What did she say?”

“That Dad’s bad. That he hurt Andrea and that made Mom sad.”

I bit my lip, trying to decide what to say. I bid my time by taking a piece of tinsel out of Simona’s mouth, which led to an angry cry, but I was too distracted to react. Put off by my lack of reaction, she fell silent.

Daniele lifted his eyes, meeting my gaze head-on. He trusted me enough to ask me this question, a question that must have weighed heavily on his thin shoulders in all these months. The truth was out of the question. And if I was being honest, I wasn’t sure how to answer his question truthfully. All I knew was Daniele deserved a happy childhood after everything he’d gone through. Lies were a slippery slope that eventually made you stumble. “Your uncle betrayed your dad. He ran away because he didn’t want to be punished for his mistake. That hurt your mom very much. She wasn’t herself after your uncle left her. That’s why she didn’t know what she was saying, Daniele. Your dad does everything to protect you and Simona because he loves you. He’d never hurt you or your sister.”

“He didn’t hurt Mom?”

“No,” I whispered. It was the truth and a lie. A lie that would help our family heal. Some lies we told others to protect them or ourselves; others we told ourselves for the same reason. Today’s lie was a bit of everything.

“You?”

“He doesn’t hurt me either.”

Simona crawled toward the tree and made a move as if to drag herself to her feet with a branch. I jumped to my feet and quickly snatched her away then carried her over to Daniele. “Will you keep watch over her?”

He nodded, and I put her in his lap. He hugged her to his body, and she seemed content for the moment. “You see,” I said softly. “You want to protect Simona, and I want to protect you, and your dad wants to protect all of us.”

After I was done decorating, the kids and I went into my paint room. As had been our routine over the last couple of weeks, both children got brushes, watercolors, and paper so they could entertain themselves while I finished the painting I’d started for Cassio. It was almost done. I wasn’t quite happy with the spray on the waves rolling onto the beach. They needed to appear more vivid. I wanted Cassio to smell the ocean air and feel the refreshing breeze when he saw it. He had a photo of the exact same view in our bedroom, but I hoped he’d love a canvas.

Loulou sniffed at the door, but she kept running over the paper and through the paint pots, spreading colorful pawprints everywhere, so she wasn’t allowed inside anymore.

Daniele dragged the brush over the sheet, creating blue lines, as if he, too, was painting the ocean.

I put down my brush and walked over to him. He didn’t look up as I sank down beside him. Simona hit the floor with her own paintbrush over and over again, splattering paint everywhere. My overalls and bare feet were already covered in a myriad of colors. Daniele had returned to his quiet self after our conversation this morning, pondering what I said. I wished I could glimpse into his head.

“Your dad would love a painting of the ocean for Christmas. Why don’t you give it to him?”

Daniele dipped the brush into the blue paint and continued drawing jerky lines. “Okay,” was his soft reply.

“Nothing would make your dad happier than spending time with you and hearing your voice again.”

Kissing Daniele’s temple, I rose to my feet and returned to my canvas.

We hosted Christmas Eve dinner for the family. Luckily, Sybil cooked most of the feast. Even Ilaria and her husband came over with their kids. Mia was still heavily pregnant. I had a feeling she’d get a Christmas baby, and I could tell that she desperately wanted to give birth. Mia’s and Ilaria’s kids were more boisterous than Daniele, but they got along well, despite Daniele’s selective muteness. When we settled at the table for dinner, one topic was definitely off-limits: Gaia. I didn’t mind. Too much of her presence still lingered within these walls.

Mansueto watched Cassio and me like a hawk. He was obviously protective of his son. “When are you going to bless us with another grandchild?”

I choked on a piece of roasted asparagus.

Daniele looked between his dad and me. I wasn’t sure if he understood. At least, Simona was busy squishing baby carrots in her hands.

“I’m blessing you with a grandchild any day now,” Mia said pointedly, patting her round belly.

Mansueto waved her off. “And I’m delighted about your son, but what about you, Cassio?”

Cassio set down his fork and knife slowly. A vein throbbed in his throat. I touched his leg under the table. I didn’t want a fight at Christmas dinner. “I have two small children. That’s enough.”

“You should keep your young wife in mind.”

This wasn’t about me. Maybe Mansueto worried that Andrea was indeed the father, not Cassio. Continuing the bloodline was something deeply ingrained in every mafia man, so it was astonishing that Cassio hadn’t done a paternity test the moment he’d found Gaia dead.

“I’m happy with what we have,” I said quickly.

Cassio touched my hand, gratefulness flashing in his eyes.

“Now, but what about in a few years?”

“Father,” Cassio said sharply. “That’s none of your business.”

Mia turned to me. “I hear you paint?”

I could have hugged her and gladly took her up on the topic change, even if Mansueto obviously wasn’t going to drop the topic anytime soon.

Cassio

It was difficult to suppress my annoyance during dinner, so I was relieved when everyone left eventually. Father kept nagging me to take a paternity test. This was another subtle hint that I might not have an heir yet. After I’d brought Simona to bed, I found Giulia in the doorway to Daniele’s room. “Daniele wants to be tucked in by you tonight.”

I wasn’t sure I’d heard her right. It had been our ritual, one I’d cherished and missed whenever I came home too late—a thing of the past. I moved to Giulia then peered past her toward the bed. Daniele was already in his PJs and sitting atop his comforter, stroking Loulou. Dogs didn’t belong in bed. It was an opinion I stood by, but I didn’t have it in me to throw her out. “You want me to read your bedtime story?”

Daniele nodded. It looked hesitant, but it was there. I met Giulia’s gaze, wondering what she’d done. She gave me a hopeful smile. Warmth crowded in my chest. I’d never felt this kind of… tenderness toward a woman. I leaned down and kissed her briefly before I moved toward the bed.

Daniele’s brows puckered. I sank down beside him and grabbed the picture book from the nightstand. I didn’t get the chance to open it.

“You kissed Giulia.”

I put down the book as I tried to pull myself together. I’d missed Daniele’s voice, even if he asked difficult questions. I’d avoided physical closeness with Giulia in front of him so far, worried it might upset him. “Yes.”

“Why?” He looked curious, not sad or angry. I moved a bit closer and stroked his head.

“Because I really like Giulia.”

“You liked Mom too.”

Looking into his brown eyes, Gaia’s eyes, I couldn’t do anything but lie. “I did.” There had been a time when this statement would have held true. I liked her in the beginning until eventually only resentment remained.

“I miss Mom.” His admittance turned my mouth dry. Of course I knew he missed her, even if she hadn’t taken care of him and Simona in the last few months of her life.

“I know.” I pulled him against my chest, hoping he wouldn’t draw back. He didn’t. He allowed me to hold him, and this small gesture alone was already the greatest Christmas gift I could imagine. I was glad he didn’t ask if I missed her too. One lie was enough.

“I like Giulia too,” he said quietly.

My hand on his head froze. “Good.” My voice sounded strange to my own ears. That never happened. I always kept my cool no matter if we were under attack, if I killed or tortured someone, but this…

“Will she stay?”

“Yes,” I said immediately. I wouldn’t let anything happen to her.

“Okay.” Daniele’s voice sounded drowsier now. These last few months I had missed the feel of his small body becoming soft against me. I tucked him in and hadn’t even read the first page before he was already asleep.

Loulou peeked up at me through half-closed eyes. When she wasn’t pooing everywhere or snapping, she was tolerable. I stood and returned to the bedroom, surprised to find Giulia waiting for me. I pulled her against me, needing her close. “And? How did it go?”

“Good.”

She narrowed her eyes thoughtfully. There was more I wanted to say. Something I’d never said to anyone but my children. I’d formed the exact same words before, but they stuck to my tongue like glue.

“I thought we could exchange our gifts tonight. Tomorrow morning should be about the kids and Loulou opening their presents.”

I chuckled. “Don’t tell me you got the dog a present.”

Giulia pursed her lips. “Of course. She’s part of this family. And I got presents for Elia, Domenico, and Sybil as well.”

“How did your parents manage to create someone like you?”

“Christian turned out well too.”

I didn’t want to talk about him. Our interactions had been tense. He didn’t trust me, and I didn’t trust him. That wasn’t a good foundation for a work relationship. “Let me get my present. It’s in my office.”

“I’ll come with you. My present for you is downstairs as well.”

Giulia took my hand and pulled me toward her hobby room. I’d never set foot inside of it. “Close your eyes.”

I gave her a scolding look. “I’m not twelve.”

“You’re a killjoy, old man. Now close your eyes.”

I squeezed her ass cheek hard in warning, making her jump, but then I closed my eyes. She had me wrapped around her finger, and I wasn’t even trying to free myself. Her fingers tightened around my hand as she led me into the room. “Stop right here.” I did. The smell of fresh paint hung heavily in the air. “Now open your eyes.”

At first, I wasn’t sure what I was supposed to see and was confused why Giulia had taken the picture down from the wall in our bedroom. Then I realized it wasn’t the photo. It was a detailed painting of the beach in front of the house. “Did you paint it?”

“Yes,” she said, straightening her bangs and biting her lip.

I moved closer, amazed by the detail, by the liveliness of the ocean. I wasn’t an art lover and had only visited a couple of museums because business required it.

“Do you like it?”

This meant a lot to her. The painting and her art in general. I hadn’t given it much thought so far. “It’s stunning.”

A smile broke free on Giulia’s face. “Really?”

“Really.” I kissed her but before I could lose myself in her scent and taste, I stepped back. “Let me get your present.”

Excitement flashed on her face, and I half expected her to follow me but she waited impatiently. When I returned with the small parcel, she dashed toward me. “What is it?”

“It would defy the purpose of gift wrapping if I told you.”

She rolled her eyes and snatched the gift from my hands, then unwrapped it with as much restraint as Daniele. She opened the velveteen lid and her lips fell open. “Sunflower earrings?”

I’d originally bought her elegant creoles, jewelry I would have chosen—nothing Giulia would have liked. Three days ago, I changed my mind and searched the internet for sunflower earrings. Most of them had been horrid, bright yellow atrocities. Then I stumbled upon Giulia’s present on the website of a goldsmith. The sunflowers were elegant, small, and completely made from gold. They were elegant yet quirky. They were Giulia.

“They are so beautiful,” she breathed. “I thought you hated when I wear sunflowers.”

“You love them.”

“Oh, Cassio.” She took them out and fastened them to her ears. “And?”

“Beautiful.” I couldn’t wait anymore. I picked Giulia up. She giggled. “Where?”

“In bed.”

“Not the pool table?”

“No.” Tonight, I wanted to make love to her, not fuck her like two randy teenagers, even if one of us was a randy teenager. When I laid her down on the bed in front of me, I realized this would be something new for me too.

I took my time, was gentler, less urgent than usual, and after her initial confusion, Giulia mirrored my unhurried moves. Afterward, she curled up against me. “This felt different—as if it meant something.”

I heard the question in her voice but wasn’t sure what to say. I nodded. It had. Our first night together, I’d been this careful because Giulia needed me to be. Tonight, I needed it to figure out what was going on, to confirm what I’d never considered an option.

“Was it ever like this with a woman?”

Giulia’s voice was curious, but behind it, I could hear a flicker of… jealousy perhaps. I didn’t have to lie. “No. Not with Gaia, and before her I only had affairs.”

“And after?”

“There was no one after.”

Giulia peered up in surprise. “Really? You didn’t sleep with anyone since Gaia’s death?”

“No. I had other things on my mind.” I hesitated, wondering if I should tell her about that one slip. “But right after I found Gaia with Andrea, I slept with a woman I met when I was drunk in a bar. It was meant as a revenge fuck. To prove to myself that other women wanted me even if my own wife didn’t. I didn’t feel better afterward and never told Gaia.”

“I want only you, and when other women check you out, I don’t like it at all.”

A laugh burst out of me. “Jealous?”

“A bit.” She swung herself up and straddled my hips. “Like you, I don’t like to share.”

She didn’t have to worry. “To be honest, you’re demanding enough. I doubt I could satisfy another woman beside you.”

Her eyes widened in indignation. I flipped her over despite her pretend struggles and slammed into her, fucking her hard and fast, because there was no need to confirm what I felt anymore.