As I worked to clear tables, regretting my choice of footwear, I let the past wash over me. Long ago, my dad worked for the head of the criminal organization. He parted amicably with Don Morelli and turned legit, right around the time my parents got divorced. When my dad started making ungodly gobs of money, my sister and I started high school at a fancy school. Imagine my surprise when Vincenzo, the boy I grew up playing with, landed a football scholarship to the same place. Dad wanted us to be seen, to rise to the upper echelons of society.
I wanted to marry Vincenzo Messina.
Funny how everything turned out.
By the time the rush slowed, Gabriella came up to me with two glasses of crimson wine. “I guess I was wrong about you.”
I toasted her and took a long sip. “I’m not your enemy.”
She snorted. “We’ll see about that.”
Before I could come up with a smart, sassy response, the door to the private dining area slid open. Liam emerged, the half mask covering his face. He cast a sharp look around the restaurant. A dangerous energy crackled through the space, and I wasn’t the only soul who paused in the devil’s presence. His gaze landed on me.
I gave him a nod, which made the muscle under his good eye twitch. But then, his gaze slid to the side.
Beside me, Gabriella was stiff. Her strong, no nonsense energy was extinguished. I heard the gasp catch in her throat.
“It’s true,” she whispered when Liam finally turned to leave.
I’d sent him an update about the meeting with the judge, which my phone showed he’d read, but he hadn’t bothered responding to it. I would have gone to talk to him, but he seemed extra ornery. Whatever business had him cloistered away with my husband and the other Morelli Men had him agitated.
“What’s true?” I asked, turning slightly to look at the young manager.
Gabriella shook her head. “None of your business.”
I snorted. “Okay, then.”
She sighed and threw back the rest of her wine. “You don’t have to stay and help close.”
I was just about to say I would, to prove to her that I could, when the air shifted again.
Another presence invaded the bustling restaurant. This one brought warmth, and my blood responded with a quick jump. I knew before I looked who it was. My soul felt him across the distance.
“Gabby, Signor Morelli and your father want to speak to you,” Vincenzo said. The hard clip of his voice gave nothing away.
“Of course,” she murmured.
Setting her glass of wine down, Gabriella slipped away, leaving me to face the monster.
Mine. Per sempre.
Vincenzo stopped a few feet in front of me, his presence demanding my attention.
“Hi,” I beamed. “Boy, do I have a lot to talk to you about.”
Vincenzo’s smile reached his eyes. “Can’t wait, fiore.”
“Let’s start with the fact that my stepmom is in town, and she lied about my dad being in Tokyo.” I planted my hand on my hip and brought my wine slowly to my lips, staring at him as I drank slowly.
His gaze dropped. First to my lips. Then to my throat as I swallowed. Those dark eyes heated.
“Two things I already knew,” he countered. “What’s there to discuss?”
“A lot.” I tipped the wine glass at him. “And we’re going to talk. Not argue, not fight. Talk.”
“I’d like that.” Vincenzo took a step closer, trapping me next to the wall. “But if you’re upset about anything we talk about, I’m going to start by telling you that I’m not sorry—for any of it.”
I leaned against the wall for support, tipping my head far back to look up into his eyes. There was a whole sea of people around us, but standing with him, it all faded away.
