"You said not to touch anything. But I can still touch you, right? We're engaged. That's allowed, isn't it?"
Behind him, Paulie makes a choking sound, somewhere between a laugh and disbelief.
"That's not what I meant," Santino says through gritted teeth.
"Oh good. Because that would be strange. Being engaged but not allowed to touch each other." I step closer, invading his personal space. "What are you all working on today? Can I help? I'm very organized. Good with spreadsheets. I want to be involved."
"You need to leave. Now."
"What? Why?"
"Because you just grabbed my gun and waved it around like a lunatic!"
"I said I was curious! Is curiosity a crime now?"
"Well, now you've satisfied your curiosity. Time to go." He walks to the door and opens it, gesturing for me to exit. "I'll walk you out."
"But I didn't finish getting to know everyone! I still have so many questions!"
"You got to know them plenty. More than plenty."
I look at the crew one more time. Bruno seems genuinely concerned for Santino's safety. Tommy is stunned and confused. Sal looks amused, like this is the best entertainment he's had in years. Paulie is trying desperately not to laugh.
"It was lovely meeting you all properly!" I say brightly, waving. "I hope we can do this again soon! Maybe next time I can learn about the other guns!"
"I hope we can't," Bruno mutters under his breath.
Santino guides me through the building with his hand on my lower back—firm, controlling, like he's escorting a dangerous criminal out of the premises.
Outside, the afternoon sun reflects off the old stone buildings. It's beautiful, peaceful, completely at odds with the chaos I just created.
"My car's there." I point down the narrow street.
"I'll walk you to it."
We walk in silence, my heels clicking on the cobblestones. When we reach my car, he stops, blocking my way to the driver's door.
"What was that?" he asks quietly, his dark eyes searching my face.
"What was what?"
"All of it. The questions. The gun. The complete disregard for basic safety protocols."
"I was being friendly! Getting to know your crew like you said I could!"
"That wasn't friendly. That was..." He struggles to find words. "I don't know what that was, but it wasn't friendly."
"I wanted to get to know your crew. You said I could meet them."
"I said you could meet them. Not interrogate them about murder and organized crime."
"I was making conversation! Asking about their jobs!"
"You made everyone incredibly uncomfortable. You asked about killing people, Liana."
I shrug. "Maybe they're not used to direct women. Women who ask questions."
"Direct." He leans against my car, studying me with those penetrating eyes. "That's one word for it. Why did you really come here?"
