Because I want to have a good relationship with Carlo’s family though, I give him a more natural smile as he leads me inside. “Thank you for being concerned.”
He flashes a quick grin my way before a bodyguard appears in the foyer, curious about our arrival. They start talking quietly about some meeting and the Bratva, but I have no interest in that.
This is only the second time I’ve set foot in this house when I wasn’t essentially a captive. The De Luca mansion in Las Vegas and Uncle Enzo’s sprawling home in Reno were modern and bright with lots of windows. Carlo’s penthouse has a similar style but boasts skyscrapers and Central Park for a view instead of the desert or a pool. This house is older, grander in a way, the polished dark wood floors and elegant antique furniture all reeking of good taste and immense wealth.
At a sound above, my attention is drawn to the little girl gliding down the stairs toward us in salmon-colored overalls with her long, black hair braided over one shoulder. She’s wearing a straw hat andcarrying a handful of small purple ceramic pots, the type I picture sitting on a kitchen windowsill with seedlings in them.
Giulia smiles, recognizing me as I sign,“Hello.”I wish my skills were better.
“Hello,” she replies, the first time I’ve heard her speak. Her voice is soft, and her pronunciation is slightly different, but I understand her perfectly well.
“What’s up, rabbit?” Renato asks her, having joined us. He’s signing the words as he speaks.
Giulia’s eyes narrow in a familiar way. I often gave Ronan that look when he was being annoying. “Rabbit?” I repeat.
Giulia carefully sets down her pots before she starts signing something which makes Renato snort. “I call her rabbit because she’s into gardening. Watch your language, little one,” he says directly to her, but he’s grinning.
“What’s wrong with gardening?” I ask.
“What seven-year-old wants to dig in the dirt while wearing old-lady clothes?”
“Clever and industrious ones.” I turn toward Giulia again, signing my question.“May I join you?”
Giulia’s eyes widen and a grin spreads across her face as she rushes forward, grasping my hand and pulling me along. She throws a questioning glance back over her shoulder at Renato, but he shakes his head before replying, “Torture Frankie with your worms and dirt, rabbit.”
Giulia laughs, a unique but sweet sound, before covering her mouth and blushing. Taking her hand in mine, I wait until she looks up at meto say, “Gardening sounds like more fun than hanging out with Renato.”
She smothers her giggles this time, but her eyes are sparkling as we both pick up her little purple pots and head toward the back of the house.
***
Sinking into the hot water of the large tub, I inhale the relaxing fragrance of the bath oil as the heat soothes my various aches and troubled heart. I had a busy hour with Giulia in her flower garden.
"Father is ashamed of me."She'd signed the words, and it took me a bit to understand before I'd vehemently shook my head, wanting to deny it. Guilia's sad smile broke my heart when she'd signed,"He is."
"He shouldn't be,"I'd replied."Does Carlo…"
"Carlo is a good brother,"she'd signed, her eyes shining with obvious affection."I'm happy he married you."
My ASL needs work, but I did my best to sign what I was feeling –"I am happy to have you for a sister."The sweet girl's hug had a lump forming in my throat.
When Fiorella returned, I tried my best to play the good daughter-in-law as I drank my afternoon espresso and listened to her complain about the headaches planningmywedding reception is causing her. Maybe I should’ve been more open to helping.
But when I mentioned I could pitch in, provided it didn’t interfere with my music studies, Fiorella stared at me like I’d grown a second head. Either she didn’t know about Juilliard, or she has no faith in my abilities to plan a large party. Maybe both.
Thankfully, Renato rescued me before I could be invited to stay for dinner. I called Mom after we returned here, happy to hear her voice but a little sad, too. She was overjoyed by my news regarding school and said she couldn’t wait to see me next month. But I couldn’t tell her about my encounter with Maeve or Ronan’s message over the phone or ask her for advice. I don’t want my brother to do something stupid, and I don’t want him to harm Carlo either. It’s true the marriage wasn’t my choice but, now that I’m in it, I find myself unsure of what I want exactly.
One thing I definitely won’t do is tell Carlo about my meeting with Maeve. The Trio still wants Ronan dead. I will never play any part in helping them achieve that goal.
I’m hoping the glass of wine I poured will help with my frayed nerves, but I’ve barely taken a sip when muffled noises and deep male voices below tell me Carlo has made it home. It’s nearly nine. Dinora left hours ago, and Renato had been content scrolling his phone when I’d slipped upstairs for this bath.
My heart speeds up when I hear his heavy footsteps on the stairs, and a different sort of ache begins to pool in my belly while I wait. A soft knock and, when I bid him to enter, he does so wordlessly, noting my little sanctuary of candlelight before his eyes slowly slide down my body. His suit jacket and tie are absent. His shirt is open, exposing his Trio tattoo, and his sleeves are rolled up. A sexy smirk forms as he takes a seat on the edge of the tub. It reminds me of that first night we shared. I was making a deal with the devil then and, right now, I’m not all that sorry I got played.
His forearm passes right by my nose when he reaches for the wine glass on the other side. The strong, acrid smell of smoke clings to him.Has he been at a bonfire or something? He takes a sip of the wine, and I silently watch his throat bob as he swallows, wondering why that feeds the fire simmering beneath my skin.
“This is the second time I’ve had the pleasure of watching you take a bath.”
“I saw your mother and Giulia today.”
