She jumps, but her head remains low, her gaze avoiding mine.
I prowl towards her, an alien urgency invading every fibre of my being. “What is it,” I say. It isn’t a question. “Something has happened.”
It’s not a physical danger or my men would’ve taken care of it, and reported it immediately.
Her eyes lift, but there are more shadows in the hazel depths than ghosts in a Palermo cemetery.
“I’m fine.”
I stop. I stare. Then, quietly but with enough warning for her to know I’m not fucking about.
“Lucia. Take a moment before you repeat the ‘I’m fine’ line. You are a terrible liar,” I reply, voice flat. “Now tell me.”
Her breath shakes.
She hesitates.
And that hesitation is enough.
My blood cools.
“Bellandi has eyes everywhere,” I say. “So if you are hiding something from me, you are not protecting me. You are handing him a weapon.”
Her face twists.
And then she says, like ripping out a piece of herself.
“She called.”
The world narrows.
“Who?”
She swallows.
“Isabella.”
Something sharp moves through me. I keep my voice steady with effort.
“And what did she have to say for herself?”
Lucia’s chin lifts, defiant even in fear. “She said I’m the reason this is happening.” A harsh bark of laughter escapes her. “Like it was some sort of newsflash.”
I don’t blink, but my hands clench into fists in my pocket. “And?”
“And she said I should do the right thing.”
My hands curl tighter.
“That I should do everyone a favour and absent myself again. And if I didn’t…”
Her throat moves and I have to swallow myself to stop the snarl from unleashing.
My voice drops. “And if you didn’t?” I prompt.
Lucia’s eyes shine. “And if I didn’t, I’ll have no one to blame but myself if someone decides to absent me permanently.”
“Oh, and she said that I probably won’t see it coming because her father has men everywhere.”
