For all of that, and despite that everything was still inside the apartment, the place looked gutted. The walls were barren, the cabinets were empty, and the television had relocated to the sofa. Santino knew he’d orchestrated the move on purpose, knew it was for a good cause, but for a moment he feared the impact of walking in to such a sight might be painful for her.
The thought made him wish they had roughed Joey up a bit, just for the delay.
At his side, Reiko went still. “This is … everything?”
Marco stepped forward. “Everything except wardrobe, feminine products, and anything that looked medicinal, ma’am.” He spoke the words in the direction of her feet, but in her direction nonetheless.
Good man.Santino made a mental note to tap him for reserve duty if Marco proved clean when the Segreti problem was done. He liked a soldier who followed orders and knew the line.
The thought was barely settled in his mind—Reiko’s head still moving with her responding nod—when another of the guys piped up without moving away from the wall. “There’s still that old junker in the back room, too. But we cleaned up around it.”
Santino arched a brow. He doubted very much that Reiko had a car in a back room. His man’s meaning dawned at the same time as Reiko’s sharp intake of breath carried through the air.Her hand tightened around his and he had just enough time to wonder if it was anger or self-consciousness that prompted the response.
“My bike is not a junker!” Her sudden shout stiffened every spine in the room. Then, to Santino’s surprise, Reiko released his hand altogether and stomped across the crowded space until she was within arm’s reach of the fool who’d shoved his foot down his throat.
Santino noted several pairs of eyes flicking between her and him like ping-pong balls, but he ignored them. He wanted Reiko to be comfortable expressing herself, to gain the confidence she deserved and had so long been denied, so he would watch and allow her to release her upset. And if the men surrounding them were smart, they would hold incredibly still, with their mouths sealed shut.
Reiko either didn’t care or didn’t notice any of it. The dumbass had hit a nerve with his comment. Her hands flexed at her sides before she finally planted them on her hips, her voice gaining strength with each word. “How dare you comb through a stranger’s entire home, pull apart everything they’ve set up for themselves, and then stand in a room with that person and make demeaning comments about their situation! You have no idea what you’re mocking! So what, it’s not some shiny, interactive machine that does everything short of brew coffee, and probably costs more than the average person’s car payment? What does that matter? It’s an exercise bike. It records my distance, my speed, my heartrate—what thehellelse do I need it to do, exactly? Pat me on the shoulder and praise me? Whip out a bullhorn and scream that I’m not peddling fast enough to escape my ugly?” She leaned her upper body forward. “Well, jerk? Which is it? Which feature is so great that I ought to have carved out a kidney for it?”
Santino didn’t think he’d ever been so proud and so furious at the same time. The pride had come easy. She was lighting into the idiot in a room full of armed mafia men and she knew it, and she wasn’t showing an ounce of discomfort.
Then she’d slipped in the degradation comment. And followed it with a reference to cutting herself open again—a reference that would, of course, go right over everyone else’s heads. As it needed to.
Still, he had his limits.
Santino strode forward while the dumbass who’d be limping for a few days come sunrise attempted to find his tongue, curved an arm around Reiko’s waist, and eased her a step backward from the other male. She tensed only for a heartbeat before letting him move her, and he suspected that was proof enough that she’d about reached her limits, too. He kept his focus outward and narrowed his eyes. “I’m sure you were told to be careful with the things here.”
Dumbass swallowed hard and nodded.
“You knew I was coming with the intent to help, correct?”
“Yeah… Yes, Boss.”
“Was that not enough to clue you in that, maybe, you ought to demonstrate a little respect for the owner of these things you’re packing up? Particularly in her presence?”
Dumbass hesitated and shifted his weight, like he wanted to retreat. Except the wall was still at his back, and the guy who’d been standing closest to him had shuffled aside when Reiko had started in on him. “I-I didn’t mean any disrespect,” he finally said.
Reiko tensed.
Santino gave her a squeeze. “And what part of ‘junker’ do you consider to be respectful?”
Dumbass paled, rolled his jaw, and finally dropped his head. “I’m very, deeply sorry, Boss! And, uh, ma’am!”
Reiko spoke up again, the subtlest note of unsteadiness in her voice. “Apologizing because you’re afraid of the punishment isn’t the same as understanding or feeling remorse for the offense.” She wasn’t wrong.
Santino heaved a breath and turned them bodily away. “Gentleman, take five while we decide what stays and goes. Dumbass here just volunteered to be our note-keeper, you’re welcome.” He paused, allowing for the first twitch of lips and expelled breath of relief. “The next person who offends my future bride pays in blood. I expect better.”
He heard a distinct, muttered repeat of the information drop in the heartbeat before the tension thickened again and the men filed outside to let them think in peace.
Dumbass was wise enough not to speak without prompting for the rest of the evening, so Santino rewarded him by placing him in charge of the moving, loading, and careful securing—and eventual off-loading—of Reiko’s treasured exercise bike. It turned out the bike truly was one of the very few things she couldn’t bear to part with.
He laughed at her embarrassment of his seeing her current panty collection, as if he had expected her to own dozens of sexy things. He knew what sort of woman he’d snagged. She was practical, reserved, and didn’t see herself in an overly positive light, let alone feel whatever way a woman needed to feel to own a plethora of lingerie. The fact that she’d had the one set of nice, flirty underthings to wear for him was downright strange. But he would change that. In the meantime, of course, she needed underwear—and he thought she was sexy all the time, anyway. If the apartment hadn’t been full of men, Santino probably would have forgotten himself.
He surely would have forgotten his other pressing business.
Once everything was packed, sorted, and the men divided with their errands, Santino took Reiko home. They discussedreorganizing the gym in their basement while Guiseppi prepared dinner, which they ate at the table for the first time—with her flowers just off to the side, rather than between them. Then he could put it off no longer. As much as he wanted to soak up her presence and ignore the world, that wouldn’t just be selfish, it would ultimately lead to endangering the people he cared for most.
Reiko walked with him to the foyer, and Santino pressed a chaste kiss to her lips. “I’ll be back as soon as I can, beautiful. The house is yours, don’t be shy. But please stay on the property and don’t ditch Luca.” He gave her shoulder a squeeze. “If you get tired, it’s okay to go to bed. I’ll come find you.”
