I blocked them out when Angelo and Phoenix arrived, and the race was about to start. Big’s position in the lineup was first, and I knew that meant something. He’d gone out in first place and had resumed his spot. Maybe it would be different in a competitive race that counted, but that was what I took from it. I remembered reading about the positions and what they meant before.
The race itself was fucking intense.
My leg was bouncing again, and I started to bite my nails, which I’d never done before. It felt like I was in the car with Big, and we were going over a hundred and sixty miles an hour while taking turns along the winding track. Georgia was cheering for Big, but she grew quiet suddenly. She pointed out how close Big’s car and another car kept getting to each other, especially when they’d make a turn.
I’d noticed it too.
“No, no, no,” I chanted underneath my breath. I had a sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach that the other car was Mario’s. This was supposed to be for charity, but it had gotten personal for them.
I looked around for Rocco and found him standing off to the side, eyes glued to what was going on. The set of his face seemed chiseled out of stone, but I could tell he was seeing what we were. The other cars would get close, fall back, and then get close again. Big and the other car just kept getting close—dangerously close.
Then a moment that made the entire track go quiet.
It was like Big’s car and the other car came together from the side, but instead of crashing into each other, the cars seemed to spin out in opposite directions. Big’s crashed into one barrier, and the other car crashed into another.
“Oh my God,” I wanted to scream out, but the words only came out as a whispered prayer. I wasn’t even aware that I’d gotten to my feet, or that Rocco held me back while I tried to get over the barrier.
A car with swirling lights that had been trailing the race stopped, and men from the crews were rushing to each crashed car. Maybe it only took seconds, but it seemed like an eternity before both men got out of the cars while the team checked them out. I hid my face in Rocco’s chest as he held me up, and I sobbed out of sheer relief. That was when I noticed my brothers and Georgia surrounding us. My brothers were watching what was going on with Big, and Georgia had her hand on my back, her eyes on my face.
“He’s okay, Leo. He’s okay.”
I nodded, about to wipe my face, when my eyes met Abree’s. She and Rosaria were walking past, and I caught the smirk on her lips.
She was glad this had happened, but not glad enough, because Big was still standing. I went to go after her, but Rocco held me by the arms.
“It is not worth it,” he said. “Your man is unharmed. Let us be thankful for that.” Then he cursed, and my breath caught because I thought something else had happened to Big. But when I turned and looked at the track, Big and Mario were fist-fighting in the middle of it.
CHAPTER22
Mr. Big
Hotel Tre’slawn had been turned into the launch spot of Casino Paradiso’s gin. Like the labels, it was Mediterranean inspired. The color blue was dominant. The exact color of my wife’s eyes. Even down to the food, everything was locally sourced. Two hundred people graced the property, and most of them had a long reach when it came to publicity.
The guests were raving over the gin, and I expected it to be sold in numerous restaurants and bars around the world. The exclusive labels would be limited, but still available to everyone if they visited the casino or Hotel Tre.
My grandfather had loved gin, and this project was his baby, but he’d died before it got to this point. I’d put it on the back burner until I got a grip on the business. Since he had done a lot of the work, I picked it up to get it out there in his honor.
Everything he touched had turned to gold.
Everyone said the same thing about me.
If any of these people were to ask my wife if that was true about me, in that moment, I didn’t think she would agree.
After the race in Monza, and after the crash, and subsequent fight with Mario, she ran into my arms and almost knocked me over. Then…things turned ugly. Her relief turned to anger, and she had been giving me the silent treatment ever since.
She kept her distance by standing on the other side of the lawn, looking like Aphrodite in a light blue dress, her blonde hair catching the light and the breeze. And if one more of these rich fuckers gave her another look, I was going to start breaking bottles over heads. Which was why she was giving me the silent treatment in the first place.
The crash and then the fight had been too much for her to handle.
After I’d been shot, she started acting differently. She wanted to be attached to me, and I fucking loved it, but I knew there was fear behind it, and I never wanted her to be afraid. She’d let go of some of it after we arrived in Italy, but it resurfaced again after the race.
This time, instead of pulling closer to me, she was pulling away.
I lifted my glass of water and lemon and listened to the ice cubes crack as I took a deep drink. I was keeping my eyes on her, and I didn’t fucking like what she was doing. Locking me out.
I didn’t fucking like all these wandering eyes on mine.
I didn’t fucking like Mario winking and smiling at my wife, like he’d gotten it in his head that he was going to try to use my wife as payback for Amaryllis.
