The food arrives, and we eat while Austin tells Paolo all about the Marvel superhero movies, after expressing his utter disbelief that Paolo hasn’t seen a single one of them.
“You haven’t seen Iron Man? Captain America? Thor?”
Paolo shakes his head. “I saw the Batman movie when I was a kid.”
Austin looks at me with wild eyes. “He doesn’t know the difference between Marvel and DC.”
I chuckle at the slightly offended look on Paolo’s face.
“Some people just aren’t as cool as you are, bud,” I say.
Quinn laughs and leans in to press a kiss to Paolo’s cheek. “I think you’re cool, sweetie.”
Paolo rolls his eyes, but a smile pulls at his lips as he listens to Austin describe the entire first Iron Man movie while we eat.
The conversation flows easily until Paolo’s phone rings. He excuses himself to take it outside, and I watch through the window as his entire demeanor changes. The relaxed family man disappears, replaced by someone hard and dangerous.
When he comes back inside, the temperature in the room seems to drop ten degrees.
“We need to go,” he says, and Quinn doesn’t hesitate. She starts packing immediately, trusting his judgment even though she’s clearly confused.
“What’s wrong?” she asks, but Paolo throws a hundred-dollar bill on the table without looking at it, his attention focused on scanning the restaurant like he’s expecting an attack.
I grab Quinn’s wrist as she hurries to pack the diaper bag. “Quinn, is everything okay?”
Her smile is bright and fake. “Of course. Paolo just has some business to handle. Sorry to cut things short.”
But there’s fear in her eyes, the kind I recognize from my own mirror during the worst days with Eric. I lean closer, lowering my voice.
“If you need help, a place to go, please call me.”
Her expression softens. “Thank you, Nina. That’s very kind.”
They’re gone in under two minutes, leaving Austin and me staring after them.
“That was weird,” Austin says around a mouthful of fries.
Before I can answer, three motorcycles roar into the parking lot. The men who climb off them look like trouble. Big, leather-clad, and armed.
I pull Austin closer as they walk inside, scanning the room like predators hunting prey. Conversations die. Forks pause halfway to mouths. Even the waitstaff seems to shrink back.
They’re looking for someone, and when I catch a whispered mention of Paolo’s name, my stomach drops.
The bikers leave when they don’t find what they’re looking for, but the tension in the room remains. I finish my coffee with hands that aren’t quite steady, thinking about Quinn and baby Isabelle and wondering what the hell kind of life my new friend is living.
10
ALESSIO
The twins are cryingin the backseat like they know something’s wrong.
I grip the steering wheel tighter, trying not to let the sound get under my skin while Paige texts Dario from the passenger seat. My cousin’s wife looks about as stressed as I feel, which is saying something. When Dario called an hour ago, his voice was clipped and urgent.Get Paige and their boys to the safehouse. Now.
The fucking Bratva made their move.
“Dario says Paolo and Quinn just arrived,” Paige says, not looking up from her phone. “He says to watch out for the bikers.”
No shit. As if I wasn’t already scanning every car we pass for threats.
