"No."
The answer comes so quickly I almost laugh.
"What's the deal with you, anyway? You're not what I expected from one of Rio's…people."
His expression shifts, almost imperceptibly.
"What did you expect?"
I shrug, silently relishing in the fact that this man is finally speaking fullsentences.
"I don't know. Someone older? Less…" I wave my hand vaguely at his tattooed arms and his sharp jawline.
"Less what?" There's an edge to his voice now.
"Intimidating," I finish lamely.
“A business suit like your family?”
My eyes widen in surprise. Has he met my family?
“This isn’t the mafia. It’s cartel. We are not the same. We don’t need to walk around in fancy suits,” He says as his green eyes flash.
He stares directly into my eyes, making me squirm suddenly. My family is dangerous, I've always known that, but this man, he’s something more.
“Definitely intimidating,” I murmur as I look down at my food nervously and back up at him again.
That gets me a real smile, quick and dangerous.
"Good. That's the point."
We finish eating in silence. I'm gathering our trash when Frankie checks his watch.
"One more stop," he says, standing. "Come on."
I follow him out of the mall, expecting to head back to the car, but instead he leads me down the street to a small, unassuming storefront. The sign reads "The Poisoned Pen" in elegant script. A bookstore.
My heart does a strange little flip in my chest.
"What are we doing here?" I ask, trying to sound casual when really I want to squeal like a little girl.
Frankie shrugs.
"You like books. Thought you might want some new ones."
The simple kindness of it is so unexpected that it leaves me momentarily speechless. He didn’t have to bring me here, and yet, he did. What does that mean? I push through the door before he can see my face.
Inside, the store is a reader's paradise. Books everywhere,floor to ceiling, with that perfect paper-and-ink smell that makes my shoulders instantly relax. A woman with deep red hair and bright eyes greets us from behind the counter.
"Welcome to The Poisoned Pen! Looking for anything specific today?"
"Just browsing," Frankie answers for us, but his hand presses gently against my lower back, urging me forward. "Take your time."
I lose myself in the shelves, running my fingers along spines, pulling out titles that catch my eye. For the first time since leaving Italy, I feel something like peace. When I glance back, Frankie is watching me with an expression I can't quite decipher.
"Find anything good?" he asks when I approach with an armful of books.
"These," I say, suddenly shy. "If that's okay?"
