Brando held a hand up, stopping the men from coming any closer. But some of them were already relaxed, almost as if they knew this was going to happen. My thoughts started moving in that direction but stopped when Ettore spoke.
“I am not the one throwing bottles through your window,” he said in Italian. “Let us get this straight. The French rat will try to kill you. He is attempting to do this now. He has tried to kill me. I will kill him first.”
“He is mine,” Brando said in Italian.
“No. He stops me from getting to you. So I will stop him.”Ettore responded in the same language.
Perhaps they’d both kill each other and make our lives a lot easier, but that wasn’t helping me in that moment. Stress-sweat coated my skin, and the pressure he put on my wrist was making it worse. He had big hands, hands capable of breaking bones and, no doubt, murder.
“I will stop hunting you, for now. This is on my terms. Until I have the rat, you will wait your turn. He will not ruin this for me!”
Well, didn’t that sound like a prospect?A sassy voice in my head said. As soon as these people started coming around, I started to hear voices. Go figure.
“Your business has been settled,” Brando said. “Your hands off my wife.Adesso.”
“Not yet.” He ticked his mouth. “She will escort me out. Then I will release her. I am not an ignoramus. No matter how good your word, you will break it for her.”
The crowd came up in a roar at something that happened inside the ring—it sounded as if Primo had won—and Ettore tugged me from my seat with his stronghold.
“If she goes, I go,” Brando said.
“Just you. Your word,”Ettore said in Italian.
Brando nodded. “La mia parola.”
“Stay back,” Ettore hissed. Then he took me up the aisles and out of the building. The weather had to be in the mid-seventies, but when the wind blew, it felt cooler. The silk clung to my body, and goosebumps rose on my arms.
Brando stood a few feet back, but not far enough that he couldn’t intervene if Ettore attempted to hurt me. I knew what both of the men’s words meant—their word was as good as the blood that ran through their veins. Still, I trembled like a leaf. Danger radiated from him and from my husband behind me.
A valet came around with an all-black Maserati, windows so tinted that I couldn’t see inside.
Ettore leaned in closer to me, putting his lips to my cheek. “He married well. Too bad I have to kill him. Such a waste.”
Then he shoved me to the side and was gone in seconds.
* * *
Before I could turn around, Brando had my shoulders and spun me around to face him. His eyes blazed. He slipped off his coat and put it around my shoulders, and though I had a grip, the strength of him seemed to radiate through me and make me feel steadier on my feet.
He walked me closer to the entrance of the building, away from the sea of traffic, and then really looked me over with eyes and hands.
“You're okay,” he said once or twice. For his benefit or mine, I couldn't say, but it was reassuring anyway. Until he saw my wrist. The vein in his temple bulged and his jaw tensed.
“It’s just red,” I assured him. “Nothing else.”
“I’ll never forget,” he said.
“I’m all right. You're here now. I’m safe.”
Our eyes connected. He searched for the truth in my words, probably too deaf from the hammering of his heart to go by sense alone. One slow nod told me that he had found it.
No more words were spoken between us, but the set of my face spoke volumes. My chin was raised, and my eyes were solid. My shoulders were squared.
This was a big night for Brando and Rocco, and all of the men who had a hand in Primo’s success. We had dinner reservations with family and friends, plans to go gambling afterward. I had a brother-in-law to school in pool. I'd be damned if anyone stopped us.
I knew firsthand that danger didn’t just exist in these moments for us—it existed at all times. And I had a sinking feeling that Ettore’s appearance, how easily he got through our security, was the beginning of something…life-altering. If Luca was behind this, and he had sent Ettore…why?
My husband offered me his arm. I took it, using my other hand to hold the coat together.
