I stiffened. “How the hell did you hear about that?”
He chuckled low and ugly. “You can find anything on the internet these days, amigo.”
My stomach bottomed out. Mel had begged me to post the damn wedding photos, the same time she suggested we start promoting the restaurant on social media. “Make it look official,” she said. “Everyone has a social media presence.”
I hadn’t even thought twice.
“Congratulations,” he said, his voice thick with venom. “Hope you got life insurance. Wouldn’t want that pretty little wife of yours crying over a closed casket. Be a shame to be a widow so young.”
Rage flared hot behind my eyes, but I kept my face blank.
Barely.
“I told you, Diablo. You’ll get your money. Two grand tomorrow. The rest by next month.”
He took another leisurely bite, chewing with his mouth open like a goddamn pig, staring me down.
“You know what I can’t do?” he said, voice low and dangerous.
“Wait.”
I could hear the unspoken threat buzzing in the space between us like static electricity. A tight band wrapped around my ribs, squeezing, but I didn’t flinch. Didn’t give him the satisfaction.
“You don’t scare me, Diablo,” I said, my voice a razor blade dragged slowly across skin. “You might’ve done time behind bars, but I’ve been to hell. War. I’ve seen men’s guts steaming in the dirt. Watched their heads explode like watermelons. Held brothers as they bled out with nothing but prayers to patch them together.” I leaned in, voice dropping to a lethal whisper. “I told you. I’ll pay you. But after that, we’re done. You ever set foot in my restaurant again, it better be to scrub the floors clean with your goddamn tongue.”
For a split second, I saw something flicker across his face — surprise? Fury?
Didn’t matter.
I turned on my heel before he could spit some slick threat back at me.
“Enjoy your fucking meal,” I muttered over my shoulder, tasting blood in my mouth.
23
MELANIE
My alarm blared at 2:00 a.m., but I was already awake, lying in bed with my heart hammering against the silence. I didn’t need the noise anymore — my body was its own clock now. A week of early mornings, pasta lessons with Bianca, and late nights dragging Nick out of sleep had burned the pattern into me. Busy was good. Being busy kept the cravings at bay.
I padded down the stairs, tugging my hair into a high ponytail, the slap of my fuzzy slippers against the hardwood slicing through the thick, sleepy air.
I crossed my arms, leaning against the banister, watching the way his back muscles shifted under the thin blanket, the way the early morning shadows clung to the ridges of him.
“Rise and shine, soldier,” I said when I hit the bottom step.
Nick groaned, his face buried in the pillow, his voice low and rough with sleep. “Is it two already?”
“Yup,” I said, crossing the room to the kitchen. “And I didn’t eat dinner last night just so I could enjoy some eggnog with my grilled cheese sandwich.”
“That sounds like an odd combination.”
So do we.
But somehow, we work.
I pulled open the fridge door, feeling his gaze follow me. “It’s December, so I’m trying to get in the spirit of Christmas. Nothing screams Christmas like eggnog and packing on a few pounds.”
It had been a week since Nick kissed me — kissed me so hard and deep I could still feel it. No one around, no cameras, no explanations. I kept trying to rationalize it, but the truth was, it wasn’t just lust. It couldn’t be. Because my body still reacted to him even now, without permission, without reason.
