He’ll go nuclear.
That restores my equilibrium, and I smile.
27
Chiara
Loneliness and I are intimate acquaintances. Once Vivian came along, my father stopped paying much attention to me, and our home was so unwelcoming that I gave up inviting school friends over.
Books became my refuge.
I’ve been relying on books and the TV to entertain me since Kane brought me here, but today I’m not in the mood for words. Or much of anything.
Sleeping with Luka has left me with an almighty emotional hangover. From the moment I woke up, I had regrets.
Luka’s bad for me. Not only is he Angelo’s brother, but he’s also a born flirt. I have enough problems right now, and falling for a man who treats women as expendable fucktoys is a terrible idea.
The kitchen is empty when I wander in around midday. There’s a chicken pie in the refrigerator, but pie doesn't appeal. What I really want is something greasy and calorific. Something to take the edge off my bad mood.
Waking up to discover my period had arrived was not exactly an amazing start to my day. Thank fuck someone had filled the bathroom cabinet with feminine hygiene products or I’d have been throwing plates around by now.
A car pulls up outside, but I’m too busy stabbing buttons on the coffee machine to bother looking. If it’s Angelo, he better not piss me off because I’m pretty sure being on my period would be a valid defense in a murder trial.
The front door opens, and I hear footsteps.
“Something wrong?” Kane asks from the doorway. Today he’s wearing a pair of black jeans and a tight tee. The man always looks ready for a tactical black ops mission. I sigh. Why can’t he be ugly with a dad bod? It would make it so much easier to ignore him.
“Low blood sugar.”
“Would greasy food and chocolate help?”
“Maybe,” I pout.
“Then come with me. Your chariot awaits.” I glance down at my loose sweats, baggy tee, and sliders, and then shrug. If he’s offering to take me out of this mausoleum, who am I to object?
Once outside, Kane opens the door for me. For an asshole, he’s surprisingly chivalrous when he’s not drugging innocent young women in parking lots.
Thirty minutes later, we pull up outside a small diner.
“Why are you being nice to me?”
“You’re hungry.”
“So?”
“So I’m taking care of you.”
I’m temporarily stunned into silence as he takes my arm and escorts me inside the brightly lit diner. When I look back, a second SUV has arrived with two of Angelo’s men, but they stay outside.
“I’d have made something eventually,” I tell Kane. “Dominic usually leaves food for me to eat.”
Kane ignores me and leads us to a corner booth at the back. No sooner have I picked up a menu than a woman with frizzy red hair appears with a notepad and pen. She chews the pen while tapping her foot.
“The usual?” Kane nods. He must come here often. “And you, honey?” She smiles at me, but I can tell she’s curious.
“Um, what do you recommend?” The question is for the server, but Kane orders for me.
“She’ll have a cheeseburger with fries and coleslaw and a chocolate milkshake with cream and all the extras.” I’m about to complain about him ordering for me without asking, but he’s right. A cheeseburger and chocolate shake sound perfect.
