She glares up at me theatrically, then lifts her glove and taps my shin. “Fine, I yield. Marcello is probably going out of his mind with worry anyway. I should really check on him.”
She’s not wrong.
Anytime Izzie and I take to the ring, Marcello locks himself inNonno’soffice, so he doesn’t have to watch us fight each other. One time was enough for him.
I peel off my gloves and offer Izzie a hand. She takes it, and I yank her up in one quick pull.
“One day, Stella,” she mutters, slinging an arm around my shoulders as we duck between the ropes and hop down. “One day I’ll beat you.”
“Keep dreaming,” I laugh.
“Ah, don’t be like that.” She flashes me a sideways smile. “Admit it. You’d be lost without me.”
“Please. I’d be less annoyed.”
We both know it’s bullshit, and it shows in the way both our smiles soften. Truth is, I don’t know what I would have done these last few months without her.
Annamaria has been off lately, so I’m unable to lean on her for emotional support as I usually would. I tell myself it’s because Frankie is in Russia and she misses her, but I’m not sure that’s the reason behind her sour mood lately.
I feel like Anna is keeping secrets from me and that has never happened before.
It’s worrying.
Izzie bumps her shoulder into mine to grab my attention as we walk toward the benches. “Are you okay?” she asks, tone dropping from playful to careful in one breath.
“Yeah,” I lie automatically, grabbing my water bottle from my bag. “Just tired.”
“I bet you are,” she smiles, sympathetically. “I have no idea how you keep up with everything that’s on your plate right now. I’m exhausted just thinking about it.”
Since Izzie is now a big part of Marcello’s life, I’m not surprised she has a better insight into how I spend my days. I’m sure Marcello has told her how I’ve been moving nonstop all summer. How I’ve been running jobs with Dom, overseeing collections, fixing problems for the Outfit, babysitting the riverboat, only to end my days training here until my knuckles split and my muscles scream.
What Izzie doesn’t know is why I put myself through all of it.
Because if I stop, if I sit still too long, my mind drifts.
It drifts to memories of rough hands cupping my face.
To sweet whispered words in Russian.
To dark eyes and cocky smirks.
ToI love yousI will never be able to say.
Yes, if I dare stop for even a second, I’ll crack under the weight of my misery.
So I don’t stop.
I can never stop.
When Marcello, Izzie, and I come home, drained from our training session and ravenous for whatever Lourdes cooked for dinner, our guard immediately goes up at the sound of Lucky’s incoherent shouting from our father’s office.
Did my brother officially lose his mind?
I know he’s been on edge lately, with Frankie and Darius spending the summer in Russia without him, but I never once imagined he’d have the balls to scream at any of our dads, much less our father.
“I’ll stay here,” Izzie hesitates as we rush toward the office, preferring to stay back in the empty living room.
She’s been a part of this family long enough to know better than to barge into our father’s office uninvited. When that office door closes, it usually means theCapo Dei Capiis conducting Outfit business. Which means anyone who isn’t part of the syndicate has no business being there.
