If I wouldn’t have needed permission from the Faustis to kill him, I would have—probably on the track for everyone to see. I was never messy with my business, but Leonora did things to me I wasn’t used to. When I told her she had control over me, I wasn’t fucking exaggerating. Any other time, I would have rebelled against the feeling and conquered it. It’s what I do, conquer, but I knew better than to fight it.
I knew my odds.
I never would have won.
She had known it, too, which was why she had fought so hard at first to accept the truth—she was mine and I was hers.
Whatever existed between us was too powerful for each of us.
Aphrodite’s eyes flicked to mine, giving me a quick death glare, while she talked to Georgia, Rocky, Kitty, and Dulce, who came to the party with her husband, Giosuè. Their yacht was anchored in the water in front of the hotel. They were regulars, and his family had started a world-famous Italian luxury designer brand. House of Sicilia. Giosuè, himself, had designed the labels for the gin. They were known for their romantic and feminine aesthetics, while incorporating their rich history in Italy—the culture—into their designs.
As their brand name noted, the family was Sicilian. I had called them in to design Leonora’s dresses, along with all the wedding clothes. Their company was estimated to be worth billions—his family worth the same. They were friends with my grandparents. Kitty wasn’t exaggerating when she went on about who she used to be back in the day.
Georgia excused herself from the conversation and headed my way, probably to grab a drink from the open bar. She stopped next to me, staring in the same direction I was. At my wife.
“How are you feeling?” I asked. She looked good, better than she had in Vegas.
“The sun is shining, the air is warm and clean, I’m with people I love and who love me, and I’m still breathing. I’d say pretty darn good.”
I nodded and took another drink of water.
She became quiet for a few seconds, then she cleared her throat. “It’s crazy how much Leo’s life has changed. She went from a struggling single aunt, to…talking it up with the owners of House of Sicilia, who dressed her for this event. But no matter what, Leo will always be Leo. None of this matters to her, because she has heart. She’ll go back to Dynamic, wearing her thrift store T-shirts and cutoff shorts from Walmart, ready to be there for a scared girl who feels alone in the world. Because she knows how it feels to have nothing and no one. All of us there do.” She looked up at me and squinted.
“If she hasn’t spelled this out for you yet, I will. Not your money. Not what you can give her. Just you. That’s all she wants. A man she truly loves and who truly loves her back. I know that’s a scary word for men in your line of work, but deal with it. You’re turning into everything to her. And you scared the shit out of her.Twice,in under a year. I might not always be here to be by her side.” She lifted a hand before I could say anything. “I know you’ll take care of her; you already do. But I need to know you’ll take care of yourselfforher. Youcouldbe reckless before. Try not to be so reckless now. Not when you have someone like Leo to love and watch out for.”
Before I could respond, Georgia finished her trek to the open bar. Rocco met her there and said something that made her throw her head back and laugh. Leonora’s eyes went to the sound, then our eyes crashed when she went to turn them forward again.
Fuck me.
When she attempted to steal from me, she stole more than my money.
Leonora Kallistos Bigatti stole my entire life.
Her silence was driving me mad, and I was about to reach a breaking point.
A few guests slipped into the conversation with Dulce and Giosuè, and Kitty, Rocky, and Leonora seemed to go in separate directions. Kitty came straight for me, Rocky went toward the hotel, and Leonora went to stand with her brothers. Phoenix was staring toward the water, but my eyes went to Angelo.
He was staring at Rocco and Georgia.
I didn’t fucking like the look in his eyes. And if I didn’t like the look in his eyes, neither would Rocco. He might have been paying attention to Georgia, but like any man who was used to feeling out a room, keeping an eye on every other man in it without making it obvious, he felt Angelo’s stare.
I’d been keeping an eye on Angelo for a while when it came to Georgia. Angelo wasn’t the type of kid to ever be a kid. He had to grow up too fast. And he was a serious motherfucker. He didn’t date. He didn’t find fun in doing stupid shit most kids his age would. He had goals, and those goals would be met. He wanted to follow in my footsteps.
His interest in Georgia, a woman much older than him, and married, wasn’t a simple crush. It went beyond that, and I knew when he got to a certain age, he wasn’t going to worry about messing the waters when it came to her.
I knew this because he told me. He was going to marry her someday. That was not only an issue because of the age difference. Georgia was like a sister to Leonora, and Georgia was already married to Joe Fedele. Joe and I didn’t run in the same circles. He was mid-level, and I didn’t fuck with mid-level men. But I knew who he was, he knew who I was, and if in the future he decided Angelo was disrespecting him by going after his wife—Joe was going to come to me. It would probably go further than that. It would go to New York.
I wasn’t sure what the fuck the kid was thinking. Georgia was a lonely woman with Joe, but I didn’t think she would ever see Angelo in an amorous way. He was hell-bent on changing that view as he got older, but he wasn’t masking his jealousy in that moment. I felt like I could smell it in the air when the wind would blow. Bitter as sour fruit.
My eyes went back and forth between Angelo and his sister, even when Kitty brushed my shoulder as she breezed past, going straight for the bar. If she wasn’t careful, she’d need her bedazzled scooter before the night was over. Then I’d have to have a man on her to make sure she didn’t fly off a cliff. She’d probably goweeeeas she did.
“My little Tullio is not used to the silent treatment from women.” She mock-pouted. “Neither was your grandfather, but groveling was a good look on him when it happened.” Her laugher echoed as she passed me. It reminded me of a witch’s cackle sometimes.
My phone vibrated in my pocket.
Umberto, who called with daily updates on the casino and business issues. “Business issues” meaning whoever had tried to off me after my meeting about the gin. But I’d already had a conversation with him earlier. The casino was running like a well-oiled machine, and he was still hunting for information on who might’ve had the balls to shoot at me.
“Boss,” he said. “The apartment building your wife’s mamma is living in has been torched. No casualties, but a few tenants are being looked at for breathing issues and burns.”
