“Perfect.” I reached for her briefcase, carrying it the rest of the way to the door. Such a small gesture, but it felt important somehow. These little moments of normalcy in our complicated situation warmed me.
She glanced at her watch. “I should go. Court starts at nine, and I want to review my notes once more before I meet with the client.”
I nodded, setting her briefcase down by the door. “What’s the case?”
“Commercial lease dispute. Nothing exciting, but the client’s connected.” She didn’t need to elaborate on “connected.” Most of Stern, Foster, and Pellegrino’s clients had some tie to the Bregoli family or their associates. It was how she’d gotten the job in the first place. Nicco’s influence expedited her Nevada law license after she relocated from Chicago with Lordes.
I touched her arm, feeling the tension in her muscles. She studied my face, searching for something. Whatever she saw seemed to satisfy her because she leaned in and kissed me. It wasn’t a casual goodbye. It was intense, almost desperate, her fingers gripping my suit jacket as if she might never see me again. I kissed her back with equal fervor, one hand cradling her face, the other at the small of her back.
When we finally broke apart, her breathing was uneven, and I knew mine was too.
“I shouldn’t have done that,” she whispered. “Now I’ve messed up your tie again.”
“Worth it,” I said, making a quick adjustment to straighten it.
She smiled a real smile that reached her eyes this time. “I’ll see you tonight.”
“Tonight,” I confirmed, reaching for the door handle.
With one final glance outside, I opened the door, and Labria stepped through it.
She walked down the path to her gray Mercedes C 43 parked in the driveway.
I remained in the doorway, watching as she got in, started the engine, and backed onto the street.
Only when her car disappeared around the corner did I close the door and lock it, leaning back against the solid wood for a moment. The house felt immediately emptier without her presence. It was ridiculous how quickly I’d grown accustomed to having her here, how natural it felt to share my space with her.
Chapter Two
MAURIZIO
Today was about appearances, about playing the dutiful son, and maintaining the facade that Gianni Bregoli deserved to be mourned. I drew a deep breath, steadying myself for what lay ahead, when the doorbell’s sharp ring cut through the silence of my townhouse.
I hesitated for just a moment before moving toward the front door. Through the peephole, I saw Cenzo’s broad frame.
I opened the door. “Cousin,” I greeted him with a handshake.
Cenzo stood on my doorstep in a perfectly tailored black suit, the fabric stretched tight across his powerful shoulders. His face was a mask of appropriate solemnity, but his dark eyes remained alert, scanning my quiet street before focusing on me.
“Maurizio.” He nodded once. “You ready?”
I stepped back, allowing him inside. “Almost. Just need to grab my wallet.”
Cenzo moved past me with the measured caution of a man who never completely relaxed, even in supposedly safe spaces. His gaze swept the entryway, taking in details most people would miss. I closed the door, watching him carefully.
“You didn’t need to come get me. I could’ve met you there,” I said, leading him into the living room.
“Nicco’s orders. Everyone arrives together. Shows unity.” Cenzo remained standing, hands clasped in front of him.
I nodded, understanding the unspoken message. Today wasn’t just about burying Gianni Bregoli; it was about showing the world that the Bregoli family remained strong and united despite recent upheavals. My father’s death was just the latest death after his brother’s.
Cenzo’s eyes drifted to my coffee table, where a pair of Labria’s high heels lay underneath, on the floor. I felt a chill run through me as his gaze lingered there, then moved to the empty wine glasses I’d forgotten to put away after last night. Two glasses, one with lipstick on the rim. Clear evidence I hadn’t been alone.
“I’ll just get my wallet,” I said, moving toward the stairs.
“No rush,” Cenzo replied. “We have time.”
When I returned downstairs, Cenzo had moved to stand near the kitchen doorway. I could tell by the slight flare of his nostrils that he’d caught on to something.
