Riccardo, on the other hand, texted me several times that night. I didn’t open them until the next day, and while he was irritated, there wasn’t much he could do. He told me he’d been called away on urgent business, and whatever it was, he wasn’t happy about it.
I didn’t care. It was a relief to have him gone.
When I arrive at the penthouse on Wednesday afternoon, the elevator doors open to the sight of Rafe and Romeo sprawled across the lounge.
Naturally, Romeo doesn’t waste any time finding a way to provoke me. His gaze cuts over my black bodycon dress, all the way down to my Dr. Martens.
“You just get home from school or paramilitary training?” He arches a brow at me.
I glance at his combat boots and give him a pointed look. “What’s your excuse? Just get done dismembering a body?”
“Everyone needs a hobby, Gabi.”
“Romeo,” Mariella chides him. “Don’t be a dick.”
I follow the sound of her voice to the kitchen, where she’s organizing some prescription bottles.
“It’s my default setting,” Romeo tosses the words back at her.
I take Beppe out of his carrier and set him down, then join Mariella in the kitchen.
“What’s all that?” I ask.
“They’re Romeo’s,” she says. “I’m just making sure he has everything he needs while he’s here.”
I stare at her in confusion, and she glances over my shoulder then lowers her voice.
“He and Rafe are staying here this week. Apparently, they have some kind of business in the city. Is that going to be an issue? I know you two don’t really get along, but if you want, you can come stay on the island.”
I shake my head, hoping she can’t see the dread on my face. Romeo and I cohabitating for the rest of the week sounds like a recipe for disaster. But I won’t give him the satisfaction of upending my routine.
“I’ll be okay here,” I insist.
“Alright, well, I have something for you, too. Let’s go to your room for a minute.”
Romeo tracks me with his gaze as Mariella leads me to the hall. I swear he lives to make me squirm.
Once we’re inside the room, Mariella shuts the door and pulls a few sample packs of birth control from her pocket. She’s been giving them to me off the record since I asked for them six months ago. She does the same thing for other women in need.
In our world, going to a doctor and asking for birth control isn’t an option without a husband or father’s approval. But Mariella has connections that keep her in supply for those who need them.
“I’ll want to see you in my office soon,” she tells me. “But I figured I could drop them off while I’m here. Still no issues to report?”
“Everything’s been fine,” I assure her. “Thank you.”
She nods, then glances at the door, like she’s considering her next words carefully.
“Are you really okay with Romeo staying here?”
“It’s the Vitale penthouse.” I shrug. “I’m the guest.”
“I know, but if he torments you too much, you let me know, and I’ll come straighten him out.”
I smile at the offer. Mariella isn’t afraid to go toe-to-toe with her brothers. She’s one of the strongest women I know.
“I doubt we’ll even see much of each other.”
“Well, if you do, just keep an eye on him, will you?” Her voice softens. “He’s been in a bad pain flare. If he looks like he’s not coping, I want you to call me.”
