Mac was a man.
A made man.
He’d want a son to carry on his name.
To continue restoring dignity to the Maccari name that James had nearly sullied beyond repair.
Mac would want daughters too.
Little princesses that he could spoil.
And there was no doubt in Melina’s mind that Mac would be an amazing father, devoted and loving.
But now wasn’t the time.
Not with everything that was going on.
It wouldn’t be fair to bring a child into the world, in the midst of uncertainty.
But still, Melina couldn’t stop herself from smiling as she imagined the pitter-patter of little feet running around. Resolving to speak with her husband about the expansion of their family at a later time, Melina carefully put her shoes back on and paid for the services she and Victoria had received. After hugging and promising to meet up again soon, Melina left the spa and headed toward the lot where she’d parked her car.
“Well, if it isn’t my beautiful daughter-in-law.”
Melina stopped walking and turned. To her right was James Maccari Sr., watching her with a smirk on his face.
“Mr. Maccari.”
He shook his head as he walked closer to her. “None of that. Call me James. After all, we’re family.”
His eyes roved over her in the most inappropriate of ways.
Melina itched to slap the hell out of him.
“I don’t think my husband would see things that way.”
James shrugged. “My son always was a bit of a hot head, but sometimes he gets things right. Like marrying you.”
Melina raised a brow. “Is that so? I had the distinct impression you didn’t find me worthy of your son.”
“Maybe I did, but then I didn’t think he could handle a woman like you.”
The double entendre to his words was not lost on Melina.
Mac wasn’t man enough to satisfy her.
“A woman like me.” Melina folded her arms. “Pray tell what you mean, James.”
“You’ve certainly got a mouth. You’re nothing like the woman his mother would’ve picked for him, that’s for sure. I just didn’t think my boy would go for something like that.”
“Well, let me debase you of your ridiculous notions. Mac doesn’t need to handle me, because unlike you and the chauvinistic pigs of your time, my husband sees me as his equal. He values me and most importantly, he respects me. So why don’t you take your bullshit to someone that gives a fuck, because I don’t.”
James frowned and took a step closer to Melina. “Is that how you talk to your father-in-law? Who the hell do you think you are?”
Melina lifted her hand in front of James’ face. “Melina Morgan Maccari. Don’t forget it.”
And with a tight smile, Melina left James Maccari where he stood.
The man was a creep. Sometimes it was so hard to believe that James could actually be Mac’s father. The two men were nothing alike. She hadn’t seen James since her wedding day when he’d all but ogled her as she walked down the aisle. He’d done the same today, eyeing her as if he’d like nothing better than to have his way with her.
She didn’t like it and she wasn’t going to stand for it. Mac was going to have to handle his father. She had enough things to deal with, like renovating The Dollhouse and making sure she didn’t do anything that could undermine the position her husband had worked so hard to obtain. James Maccari was one problem that neither of them needed.
Melina hated funerals.
How could you celebrate someone’s life, when it had been senselessly lost?
And how could you hope for the future, when you had no idea what could possibly come next?
Melina asked herself those questions as she sat next to Mac in the limousine that would take them to the grave site. The Catholic service for Luca’s underboss was ostentatious, to say the least. A silver and platinum casket was the centerpiece of the service and sat directly in front of the altar. The sheer amount of floral arrangements that had filled the church was staggering. Almost as staggering as the number of people that had filed in on this dreary day to pay their last respects.
Leading the way was Luca Pivetti. In the short time she’d known the man, Melina had seen him as a ruthless man in total control. Today, she’d seen him as just another grieving person. Holding Neeya’s hand, he’d stood for a long time before his dead friend’s closed casket before taking his seat on the front row. His three daughters had accompanied him, looking every inch the proper mafia principessas.
Melina hadn’t known Matthew Corvi. Hell, she didn’t know hardly anyone that Mac worked or did business with. But after hearing the priest eulogize Matthew and watching his widow break down in front of her husband’s coffin, Melina understood a few things better than she ever had before.
What a man did for a living didn’t define who he was.
Real love was forever.