Il mioCapo.
MyBoss.
* * *
“Capo?”
I turned to look at my wife. She sat next to me in the car as Giovanni drove us home. Judging by the look on her face, she had tried speaking to me before.
After we were married, something had been nagging at me until I made sense of what she had done.
She had been miserly in using the stipend, finding bargains, even on food. She was even using coupons. The ring she bought, though, easily cost more than two thousand dollars.
She had spent her money on me.
The only person who would’ve done this under my nose would’ve been Rocco. He had invited us to celebrate at the exclusive Italian restaurant he owned with one of his brothers, Brando. When I had pulled him aside to question him about it, he had told me that she came to him and asked him to do her a favor.
A favor.
From a Fausti.
She wanted him to buy the ring so that I couldn’t see the purchase. In return, she offered to fill in for Giada while she was on vacation. No pay. Rocco had accepted her offer, but he still had the other women in his office help my wife regularly. He said she had a lot on her plate with the wedding in Italy.
“Thefamigliajeweler created it.” Rocco had waved the issue off, drinking a glass of whiskey. He was the ruthless head of his own branch of the family, and his father was one of the most merciless men Italy had ever seen. Yet Rocco loved weddings and a good celebration. “It has already been taken out of your pocket. Your wife kept her end of the bargain. We are even. A favor for a favor. Let us not discuss this on your wedding day, ah? Business should be kept in the office.”
The Faustis had a jeweler on demand. The jeweler’s family went way back with theirs, and they worked solely for them. Since I was connected to the name, considered family, he worked for me, too. I had a tab.
Mariposa seemed to understand a favor for a favor better than anyone. It was the only rule she seemed to have. Kindness for kindness—nothing owed. Except for me. She owed me her life. And not long ago—I lifted my watch, checking the time—she had vowed it to me. But for her to approach a man she knew would expect something in return, usually at a high cost, rubbed me the wrong fucking way.
“Have somewhere you need to be?”
The car shimmied and I turned to look at her. Her eyes almost glowed in the darkness. The gold in her eyes, in her hair, and in her skin all seemed to complement each other. Her lips were soft and pink, and when she smiled, almost shyly, betraying the defiant streak in her, I met her eyes again.
“Why do you ask?”
“Oh.” She drew the breath out. “You’ve been distracted ever since dinner. I tried asking you where we were going a minute ago, but you didn’t answer. Then you looked at your watch.” She leaned over, studying it. Her close proximity made air move between us, and the sweet smell of her made me lick my lips. I knew she was trouble the moment her scent drifted underneath my nose at The Club. Pheromone phenomenon and all its magical bullshit. It leaves little control to the one jonesing to inhale someone’s skin like a drug.“For all your millions, you need a new one. That one has rust spots on it.”
I shrugged, the white button-down shirt tugging at my shoulders. “Some things are not worth trading in, no matter how old they are.” I pointed to the building we were slowing in front of. “We’re home, Mariposa.”
“Home,” she repeated, turning to face the window. “You live next to a fire station! Sweet. That’ll come in handy when I cook you dinner.” She became quiet as Giovanni hit a button on the dash and the garage door lifted. “You own this entire building?”
“Mmhm.”
“It’s not what I expected.”
“What did you expect?”
“The bat cave?”
“How do you know about the bat cave?”
“Keely’s brothers. I was over once when they watched that movie.”
I gave a low laugh, burying the thought of Harry Boy further down. “Not a place shiny enough to blind you?”
Why did the fucker still affect my words?
She narrowed her eyes at me. “No, I just thought…something in Manhattan. A penthouse.” Then she grinned, my words sinking in. “Still, this is far from apaper house.”
