If only I had the time, I would look forward to learning that language.
18
Allie
Mario didn’t turn on the lights like normal people do when they enter a room.
I hadn’t noticed it before, but tonight I did. He stepped through the doorway, holding me slightly behind his side and blocking the room as he swept over the shadows in search of…assassins…like him. Something I really should think about despite my sister’s orders. Yet, in a way, she was right. Tonight might be the last night I had with my…husband. Even if he survived, would I want to be entangled with yet another criminal family? I’d worked so hard to get free of that stigma before, I was foolish to do this again.
My heart wasn’t listening, though. It was cataloging every move Mario made. It yearned for his warmth, his touch, the scintillating cadence of his voice.
He stood by the patio, waiting for a signal or simply taking the moment to observe his world without fear.
The night was clear. Starlight streamed through the double doors at the end of the suite. The view beyond the narrow terrace overlooked the Gulf of Tigullio and Portofino where the glittering Mediterranean stretched to the horizon.
It was everything my childhood fantasies imagined, and more. Mario’s silhouette was an obsidian cutout rimmed in silvery light. I approached, leaving the lights off and savoring his darkness.
His head dipped and I could make out the soft smile on his face, filling in the shadows from memories.
His voice was barely a whisper. “You are beautiful always, but the stars make your eyes shine.”
“I—thank you. To hear those words from someone as handsome as you are, it seems unreal.”
I didn’t want to lose him.
The thought shot through me like a blade, and it cut deeper. It hurt so badly, my breath caught and my knees threatened to buckle.
Was this what fear felt like?
Or was it hopeless love?
“Cara…” Instead of the husky tones he usually spoke that word with, there was a note of pain. I knew why because I felt the same way.
“Please don’t leave me. Please?”
His head dipped silently, but he rallied, sending me an intense message with his eyes that I couldn’t understand. “We won’t fight about this.”
“The hell we won’t. Going to Don Conti is…” Foolish, suicidal, dumb as all heck.
“I must.”
Damn that code of honor. “He’ll kill you.”
Mario smiled crookedly. “No, he pays others to do that.”
I pushed against his chest, but he was immovable. “That’s not funny.”
Yet his smile got wider. “Ironic, no? The assassin is the target.”
My breath caught. “Why are you telling me that?”
He took a deep breath. “You should know everything.”
I blinked. Something inside denied what I was hearing. I didn’t want to know. Just like I didn’t want to know why the nosy neighbors followed my mom to the grocery store, or to church, or every damn time we were dropped off at school instead of catching the bus. “What if I don’t want to know?” What if I can’t bear the burden one more time?
Mario shook his head. “It is too late for that. You are mine. And should I die tomorrow, what’s mine is yours.”
Oh fuck. “No one’s dying, because you’re not going.” I took two steps back.
