“After I do this.” I pounced.
Gabriella’s father was not a small man. It took a concentrated effort to shove him against the doorframe. A slippery fecker, he nearly escaped my grip on his dress shirt. The buttons tore in places. His bellow rang through the room.
“Watch his hook!” Connor chortled from where he sat.
I dodged the blow, managed to press my left forearm on the bastard’s windpipe, and pinned him to the wall. Reaching my gloved hand to the back of my waist, I pulled out my gun.
There was no plea from the room behind me. That answered the question as to her loyalty. No love was lost between father and daughter.
Pointing the barrel of the gun, I emptied the clip into the wall.
Deluca stretched his neck and leaned out of the way, face scrunched up in misery as the bullets popped beside his ear.
In the roar of the silence that followed, I bent forward to speak directly into the undamaged ear. “Next time you think about laying a hand on my wife, I’ll empty it in your skull. Got it?”
He heard me. The fecker nodded once.
I pressed my arm into his throat, grinding the tendons and vertebrae under my grip. It was a promise that I wasn’t waiting for the next time. I was coming for him. In the dark, when he least expected it. But for pretense, I did my husbandly duty. Our alliance was safe. And I had Gabriella’s promise secured. That was what card sharks would call the perfect hand.
I released him, and Deluca slumped to the floor.
“Get the fuck out of my house,” I barked.
Turning, I faced the music. But it wasn’t Morelli’s somber glower or Messina’s sharp shock. Connor’s wry mirth was the melodic background to the pair of gorgeous brown eyes flecked with gold. I stared at my wife, who wasn’t smiling at me.
It’s for her own good.
Assassinating someone was a messy business. If word got out what I was going to do, I wasn’t risking Gabriella being a coconspirator.
My beautiful wife stared at me and swallowed thickly. Slowly, she pushed to her feet.
Disappointment was etched across her beautiful features.
“Excuse me, Signori. I’m not feeling well.” Gabriella tucked a strand of hair behind her ear and scooted around the table.
I waited for her to look at me. She dipped her chin and, staring hard at the floor, rushed past me.
My hands fisted at my sides. It was necessary. I needed the truth if we were ever going to move forward with our relationship. She would always see me as a monster, so what did it matter if I acted like one?
She hatesyou.
Fuck…maybe I screwed up.
The dinner was effectively ruined. Finn brought out the second course, a delicious cut of roasted chicken and toasted vegetables. But the guests were already saying their goodbyes. When it was just Connor and I, we took our dinner to the kitchen island, where Finn was already eating.
Through the window, Gabriella wandered the backyard, occasionally throwing the yellow ball for Storm.
I’m going to fix this, little bird.
The truth would set us free.
“You think it was only him?” my best friend asked.
I shook my head. “Deluca would have gained nothing from my death.”
“His daughter would be a wealthy widow,” Connor pointed out, tearing a piece of breast from the bone.
Finn picked apart a thigh. “We wouldn’t let her move back in with him, though.”
