Fina went to collect it this afternoon.
I wink at Chiara, and from the way she glares at me, she’s suspicious as hell about what I’m up to. I stifle my amusement and check the mirror. The white sedan two cars back has been following us for the last thirty minutes. I’ve made a few turns to be sure, and it’s still there.
Something’s not right. My hands grip the leather steering wheel as my instincts scream at me. Dammit. I should have called a second car to accompany us back to the mansion.
This SUV is armor-plated with bulletproof glass, but we’re still vulnerable.
The sedan takes a right turn after me, and I speed up. Chiara picks up on my tension and asks me what’s wrong, but there isn’t time to reassure her.
A blue truck comes barreling toward us from a side street. The SUV skids sideways as I try to avoid being t-boned. It’s pretty fucking obvious the truck veering into our path is not a random event, but this isn’t my first rodeo.
Chiara grips theoh fuckbar as we slide across the road. The white sedan cuts past the two cars in front and rams me from behind.
The truck and the sedan are trying to box me in. I slam the gas pedal down, and with a screech of tires, we shunt the sedan outof the way and high-tail it down the road. Bullets ping off the car, but the windows don’t shatter.
“You okay, kitten?” She nods, mute with shock. I reach out and pat her shaking leg. She’s terrified.
The sedan’s dropped away, and the road behind us is now empty. My gut tells me this wasn’t a serious attempt to capture or kill us. It feels more like a warning.
Whoever is behind it wants to send a message.
When I find out who that person is, they will regret it.
Chiara isn’t my legal wife, but she’s still mine to protect, and I will burn the fucking world to ashes to keep her safe.
“What’s wrong?” Matteo knows me well enough to spot when I’m not in control of my anger.
I shake my head and steer Chiara into the kitchen. Matteo frowns at the state of the SUV but doesn’t question me any further.
Angelo’s already on his way. I sent him a quick message when we arrived. No detail. Just the bare bones of what happened.
Knowing him, he’s preparing to go to war already. There are very few people with the motivation to come after us, and even fewer with sufficient resources.
“Drink this.” I push a glass of bourbon toward her.
“I suppose it’s gone six, so Angelo can’t accuse me of day drinking.” Her throat bobs as she swallows the liquor down in a few gulps.
“It’ll help with the shock.”
“I’m fine,” she snaps, rolling her eyes. “Random carjacking attempts are all part of being a mafia wife, right?”
I don’t bother telling her this attack wasn’t random; she’s not an idiot.
Fina appears from the rear of the house. Her smile drops when she picks up on the tension in the air.
“I have to go talk to the men,” I tell Chiara.
Her shoulders slump before she gazes up at me with watery eyes. “Thank you.”
“This is why I’ve been so hard on you this week,” I remind her.
“Really? And there was me thinking it was because you get off on seeing me suffer,” she scoffs with a small smile.
I want to pull her into my arms and tell her she’s safe, but Fina is watching us, and I know she doesn’t miss a damn thing. When I catch her eye, she raises one eyebrow as if to say, what the fuck are you doing? But I ignore her. Fina has no business getting into my business.
The sound of a dog yapping catches my attention, and I smile. The calico cat Angelo and I rescued from Ronald’s house is about to have his peace shattered. Sure enough, the cat sits at the top of the stairs glaring at me like I’m responsible for ruining his life.
“You’re going to have to share her, buddy,” I call.
