Damiano glances at me sharply and I look away, wishing I hadn’t said that out loud. Tilting his head in thought, he studies my face in that intrusive way that makes me feel so exposed.
"I would have made it back for dinner if I could, Violetta, but I had to deal with Martelli."
"You killed him?"
"It's what he deserved."
The matter-of-fact way he speaks about another man's death should chill me to the bone, but I can't bring myself to feel disgust at him ridding the world of a man who would brutalize women.
I can’t believe how quickly I arrived at that conclusion, how naturally the logic of Damiano’s world has become mine. I don’t know when that happened and I’m not sure I like it.
But a man like Martelli doesn't die without consequences. I've seen enough news stories to understand how vendettas start.
"What happens now? Surely the Martellis won't let it drop?"
"They won't, but we're ready for them."
He sounds certain, but I haven't been in his world long, and the prospect of someone gunning for Damiano is more unsettling than I want to admit.
"Does that mean you're in danger?"
He shakes his head, a strand of hair flopping over his forehead. "No more than usual."
"That's not exactly reassuring."
Damiano's jaw twitches. "What do you want from me, Violetta? The world is dangerous. People get hurt."
"I know that, but it's never been….” I swallow the wordssomeone I care about. That's not something I'm ready to admit to him yet. But I do care — more than I want to.
As Damiano goes quiet, I stare into the amber liquid in my glass. I don't know whether now is the right time to broach the subject of Elena, but I've been sitting on it long enough.
"I wanted to ask you about something." Suddenly I'm not sure this is wise, but I forge ahead. "Elena, from the club. What happened to her?"
"Nothing."
"Don't do that, Damiano. I know Riccardo took her."
"He did and he's handling it."
"Handling it? What does that mean?"
He presses his lips together. "What do you think it means?"
I want to scream in frustration at his evasiveness.
"At least tell me she's safe."
"For now. Whether she remains so depends on her continued cooperation."
Like me, then.The words sit at the tip of my tongue but I hold them back. There are times when it’s better to say nothing and this is one of them. It’s not a good time to get into an argument. I'm tetchy after waiting for him all evening and I can't imagine he's in the best place after the day he's had. I'll just have to trust that Elena is sensible enough not to antagonize Riccardo.
Damiano casts an appraising glance over me.
"You should go to bed. It's late."
"Not when you're used to working in a nightclub," I say with a smile, though in all honesty I am exhausted.
"All the same. Go to bed."
