Just like he didn’t wait for my permission to smell my hair, I should have turned, not waiting for his, and seen his face. I was so angry at myself, at how much of a coward I was. For God’s sake, I was still frozen in place, not even moving my head to look at him over my shoulder.
Finally, I did. Then I strained my eyes into the darkness. He wasn’t there. All I was left with was tears, a frightened heart and a dark promise.
Ci vediamo, my sweet Angel.
That was Italian, and I understood it very well. Many of the students at Bellomo said it to each other. It meantuntil we meet again.
Chapter 8
Tino
I kept smelling my hand like I couldn’t get enough of her scent. It lingered on my beard, too, filling my mouth and nose with every breath, lick and swallow. Honey, peach, licorice and jasmine.
I should have left after she caught me. I should leave now, but the amount of willpower it took me to walk away from her when she was that close to me was all I had for the night. I hid in the shadows, close to the hall exit waiting to see her one more time. She looked so beautiful, so elegant in that dress. A princess soon to be a queen. All the time when we were alone together, I wanted nothing but to hold her and never let go.
You were born to rule, my sweet Angel, and so you will by my side.
She shouldn’t wear that dress in public again, though. Some of the kids—and fucking men—were looking at her. At her chest. Didn’t they know she was mine, and she was too fucking young? EvenIhadn’t allowed myself to claim my rights and enjoy what was mine.
How many men am I supposed to murder for you, Angel?Because I’d have killed them all for just looking at her. But she didn’t know she was mine yet, and so the world couldn’t know.
I was counting the days…
People streamed out of the hall. I weeded them out until I found my girl. She looked…distant. Even when her sister spoke to her, she barely responded. I knew I shook her tonight, but I couldn’t keep my distance anymore. She had to know our time was coming soon. She had to know I was there, waiting. I had to occupy her mind like she invaded mine. I needed to make her think about me like I thought of nothing but her.
For years, I cared about nothing but La Famiglia and my duty toward it. I knew nothing but. I’d been a made man since I was fourteen. After I’d seen Angel, it was as if my life had been split into two halves. Before her and after.
Nothing mattered to me anymore but her and my son. My phone vibrated in my pocket. I got it out and stared at the name of the caller. Il Figlio. Speak of the devil.
Without taking my eyes off Angel, I picked up the call. “Piccolo.”
He grumbled. “When will you stop calling me that?”
“You know when.” When he stopped being a dick and became a made man himself so I could make him my underboss.
Another grumble. I could easily picture the eye roll and the finger he was giving me now. “Anyway, I’m at the house, but they’re telling me you haven’t been staying there all week. You good?”
I smirked at the reason. She was climbing into her ride home with Nicole, Michele ready in the car behind them. “Yeah. You?”
“Same. I just…um…wanted to check on you, old man.”
I chuckled. That was code forI’d spent all my allowance and needed more money.He had issues with being part of one of the oldest Mafia families but no problem spending itsblood money. “Tell you what? Let’s have some good old father son time like we used to. I’ll text you an address. Stop by in an hour.”
Chapter 9
Tino
She locked herself up in her room since she’d returned home. Violin in her hand, she sat by the window. Was she going to play for me again? That other night, I’d felt she was playing only for me, as if she knew I was watching, as if she knew how much I loved listening to the music she made.
But she wasn’t playing. All she seemed to be doing was staring out, looking for something or someone.
“I’m right here, my sweet Angel. I’m always here.”
Her fingers wiped under her eyes, and I narrowed my gaze in my dark bedroom to get a better look at her. Was she crying? She used the hem of her pink tank top to wipe her face now. She was crying.
“Why, Angel? Please, no. Your tears are so precious. Is it because you miss me? I know. I miss you, too. But not for long, my beautiful girl. We’ll be together soon enough, and we’ll always be together. Nothing will ever come between us.”
Her hand moved to the top of her shoulder, feeling where my chin had rested. I smiled. She was thinking about me. She was missing me. Her fingers moved up to the side of her neck and back down to her shoulder, as if she was remembering the feeling of my skin on hers.
