Gia is already standing. Already walking toward us. Already grinning like she is about to cause chaos.
As she approaches, Alessandro mutters under his breath— “I swear to God if she embarrasses me in front of my wife—”
And I can’t help it. I smile.
Chapter 14
Gia lands at our table like a hurricane in heels. “Hi!” she chirps, sliding right into the conversation like she’s been invited.
I pinch the bridge of my nose. “Gia. Why are you here?”
She beams, unapologetic. “I’m on a date.”
My head snaps toward the table she came from. A man sits there — young, tan, dressed too nicely, hair slicked back. He lifts his glass in a pathetic little salute. Instantly, every instinct I have goes high alert.
My eyes cut to Nico.
Nico is already staring at the guy like he’s mentally calculating burial sites.
“Don’t worry,” Gia says, rolling her eyes. “Nico’s been glaring at him like that all night.”
She gestures casually behind her. Sure enough, the poor bastard is shifting in his seat, face paling each time Nico glances over.
“Gia,” I growl, “if that man breathes wrong—”
“Oh please.” She waves her hand. “Nico already threatened him. Twice.”
Nico, without looking at us, murmurs, “Three times.”
Gia pats his chest affectionately. “See? He’s got it under control.”
I swear I can feel a migraine forming. But then—
Elena laughs. Not a small laugh. Not a nervous one. A real one. Soft and warm and melodic. Like she’s letting herself enjoy something without fear for the first time.
I turn and look at her— really look at her. The dress. The flush in her cheeks. The shine in her eyes. And that laugh. It hits me like a fist to the ribs. I want to hear it again. And again. And again.
Gia leans her elbows on the table, grinning. “We had the BEST time today. Watching her discover stuff she likes? Literal magic.”
Elena blushes, looking down, but Gia isn’t done. “And I KNEW that dress would look amazing on you,” she says proudly. “But seeing you in it? Even better.”
I don’t bother hiding the way I look at my wife now — the way the words my wife burn through my bloodstream like fire.
She glances up shyly, meeting my eyes. I feel it again— that punch to the chest. She’s breathtaking. And she’s mine.
But before I can say a damn thing—
A shift in the noise at the front of the restaurant. Not loud. Not obvious. But wrong. Too many years in this world have trained my instincts to snap before my brain does.
I go still. Nico goes still.
Rocco, from a few tables toward the front of the restaurant, rises like a ghost.
Gia blinks. “What—”
Then everything explodes. Gunfire. Two sharp bursts. People scream. Chairs scrape. Glass shatters. I don’t think.
I MOVE.
