Leo saw the struggle without Rodrigo needing to elaborate. "We'll make sure she's safe, big brother. Are you okay to drive? You look wrecked."
"Speak for yourself," Rodrigo said with a tired laugh. Wrecked was an understatement.
The drive was exactly what he needed. Miles of open road, the purr of a powerful engine, time to wrestle the chaos inside him into some semblance of order. Time to figure out how the hell he was supposed to lead a war when his own heart felt like a battleground.
"I need the space to clear my head and to talk to Lupo." Talking to the old man had always helped, and he needed advice. Not just about what to do with the Sicilians but about Giana.
"Drive safe," Dario called after him as he left the kitchen. "Last thing we need is you crashing right now."
Rodrigo headed to the garage, picking up his guns on the way through. The trip to Siena would be quick. He just had to hope everything would remain quiet while he was gone, and that the fragile peace with Giana would still be intact when he returned.
31
Rodrigo gripped the steering wheel of his black Audi RS7, the Tuscan countryside blurring past the windows in shades of burnt umber and dusty green. He pushed the car hard on the autostrada, needing the speed to outrun the ghosts clinging to his skin.
Paint. Jasmine. Sex.
The recollection of Giana's body against the studio wall, her cry raw and guttural as she came around his fingers, slammed into him with visceral force, tightening his gut and sending a fresh, unwanted surge of heat southward.
"Maledizione,"he muttered and shifted in the driver's seat, adjusting the constriction in his tailored trousers.
Every mile away from Giana hurt. She had always unnerved him when he was with her and haunted him when she wasn't. Maybe he shouldn't have come on so strong.
No. She could have stopped it with a word if she had wanted him to.
He had asked to touch her, and she had agreed. Whether she would let him do it again was up to her. She was the only one he would ever willingly surrender to.
Gabriella's cold voice echoed in his memory:"Control is everything, Rodrigo. Never show them your belly, or they will cut you open and leave you bleeding."
Showing Giana his belly, his desperate, clawing need was the ultimate failure of his control. She was a weakness Falcone or this shadowy boss could exploit.
He was the head of the Colleoni family. He couldn't afford weakness. Yet, for her, he seemed incapable of anything else.
The sleek Audi devoured the kilometers, the powerful engine a counterpoint to the turmoil churning inside him. Lupo would tell him what to do. He represented a fragile thread of normality, of something good tethered to the Colleoni name. He had been his father's best friend and had always been more like an uncle than a priest.
Rodrigo wouldn't let Falcone's thugs threaten Lupo's niece or her colicky newborn.
The medieval skyline of Siena emerged in the distance, a cluster of terracotta roofs and the distinctive striped bell tower of the Palazzo Pubblico piercing the pale blue sky.
He found the Basilica Cateriniana San Domenico rising like a sentinel at the top of a hill. It was a good meeting place, so he didn't have to navigate the city's narrow streets. It was too easy to get stuck in them and become a rat in a maze.
Sunlight glinted off the basilica's facade, casting long shadows. Standing patiently under a poplar tree, a small, worn suitcase at his feet, was Father Lupo.
He was dressed in a simple black button-up shirt and trousers, his silver hair neatly combed, his face a roadmap of gentle lines etched by time. His posture was straight, shoulders squared with the quiet discipline of his long-ago military service. His eyes, intelligent behind wire-rimmed spectacles, scanned the approaching Audi, then settled on Rodrigo as he brought the car to a smooth stop beside him.
Rodrigo killed the engine, the sudden silence ringing in his ears. He took a deep, steadying breath, trying to shove the lingering scent of Giana, the feel of her skin, into a locked compartment in his mind. He needed to be present. He pushed open the driver's door and stepped out.
"Father," Rodrigo greeted with a smile. He moved quickly to the passenger side and opened the rear door for Lupo's suitcase.
"You made good time." Lupo watched Rodrigo stow the suitcase, his gaze thoughtful, missing little. "You look like you haven't slept in a week, my boy."
Rodrigo managed a tight smile. "It's been eventful since you have been gone. Get in, Father. We shouldn't linger."
Lupo nodded, his expression sobering. He settled into the plush leather seat with a soft sigh, buckling the seatbelt with careful hands.
Rodrigo slid back behind the wheel and navigated the Audi slowly back toward the highway.
"How is Emilia? Marco?" Rodrigo asked, keeping his eyes on the tight confines of the street ahead.
