"He wants you there," Adriano says. "He was specific about that."
Something warm moves through my chest. "I like Paolo."
"He knows. He mentions it frequently."
"You don't like that he mentions it."
"I don't like that he mentions it quite so often."
I laugh again and settle back against his shoulder.
"We could go to Sydney," I say. "After everything settles."
He looks at me. "Sydney."
"I've never been anywhere on purpose. I'd like to try it."
He's quiet for a moment. "All right."
"All right?"
"After we deal with the Vettis."
I consider this. "Is that soon?"
"Soon enough."
"I'll need a real passport," I say.
He looks at me. "You have one."
"Eleanor Marconi isn't real."
"No." He pauses to consider
"We'll sort that out."
I think about my actual name on an actual passport. About what that means after three years of being someone else. About what it means that he said we'll sort it out as if it's the simplest thing in the world.
Maybe it is.
His hand keeps moving on my arm.
"Adriano," I say.
"Mm."
I turn onto my side to face him.
"I'm done with running. I'm here because I want to be here and I want you to know that."
He looks at me for a long moment.
"I know," he says.
"I know you know. I wanted to say it out loud." I look at him. "Your turn."
Something in his expression shifts.
