When I set it down in front of him, he murmurs, “Thank you, Amore mio.” Then he reaches for Aunt Ursula’s hand and gives her hand a squeeze, teasing her, “I should upset you more so you can cook like this every day.”
She gives him a disgruntled look. “Don’t you dare. My heart won’t last.”
We enjoy the meal and watching Lucian savor every bite sets me at ease. At least he has a healthy appetite.
Then it strikes me how calm he looks, like every other day he comes home from work, and it makes me wonder if there have been any bad days he hasn’t shared with us.
The thought doesn’t sit well with me.
Not at all.
He glances at me and smiles as if he wasn’t shot earlier. His eyes begin to narrow on me. “What?”
“You’ll tell us if you have a bad day, right?” I ask, spearing a piece of salami.
He sets down his knife and reaches for my face, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear. “No. I won’t bring my work home. It has nothing to do with you.”
A frown instantly forms on my forehead. “Yet, you expect me to spend the money you bring home?”
“Yes. It’s the way things are, amore mio.”
My temper flares. “I refuse to wear clothes bathed in your blood.”
“Well,” he lifts an eyebrow at me, a look of warning tightening his features, “then you’ll just have to walk around naked.”
“Dio,” Aunt Ursula mumbles under her breath.
Just then, Alexei walks into the dining room. Lucian gets up, mutters an excuse, and then he follows Alexei out of the room.
I slump back in my chair, shaking my head.
“It’s the way things are done, cara,” Aunt Ursula says.
“I’m going to die of worry,” I say. “Every second, I’ll worry whether he’s okay.”
“It’s the price we pay for love.” My eyes dart to Aunt Ursula’s.
It’s the price I’ll pay for falling in love with the head of the Mafia.
I know it won’t help to fight Lucian on this matter, but still, I’m not happy with it. I let out a sigh and pick up my fork again and begin to eat.
Lucian comes back into the dining room, dressed in a fresh suit. He places his hand on the back of my neck, and bending over me, he presses a quick kiss to my mouth.
“I’m going out. I’ll be back later.”
My lips part as he goes to kiss Aunt Ursula on the forehead.
“But you said you’re taking the rest of the day off,” I finally say.
His eyes lock on mine, his expression grim. “Something came up.”
Not knowing if he’s angry with me or something else, I ask, “Is everything okay?”
“Of course, amore mio.”
I watch him walk out and jumping up, I call, “Wait.”
Lucian stops, and as he turns around, I slam into him, wrapping my arms around his waist. “Please be careful.”
His arms engulf me. “I will. Don’t worry.”
I lift my face to his. “Ti amo.”
Instantly a smile forms, and it chases some of the tightness from his features. “Ti amo,” he repeats and gives me another chaste kiss.
He pulls free from me, and I try to memorize the sight of his confident posture as he walks out of the house with Alexei.
Please bring him back to me.
LUCIAN
Sitting in the back of the G Wagon, I put on a bulletproof vest.
Alexei watches me, worry in his eyes, which I’m not used to seeing, then he asks, “You sure about this?”
“Yes,” I mutter, even though I’m not sure at all. “Just make sure I don’t end up dead.”
I’m going to be bait, hoping to draw out whoever took a shot at me into the open. It’s a shit idea, but it’s all we have right now.
It’s only Franco, Demitri, Alexei, and myself. Matteo and the rest of the guards are on standby near my club, so they’re not seen with us.
“Approaching the club,” Franco murmurs into his microphone.
I put my shirt back on over the vest, and after buttoning it up, I shrug on my jacket.
Hopefully, this won’t all be for nothing. I really want to get my hands on the fucker who shot me.
I watch as Alexei checks his rifle, which he’s going to hide under his coat.
Franco parks close to the entrance. As we all get out, my eyes scan the surrounding buildings. The setting sun reflects off the windows, making it hard to see anything.
With the hair raising on the back of my neck, I take a deep breath. Alexei falls in next to me, with Demitri taking the lead and Franco bringing up the rear as we walk toward the doors. The bouncer unhooks the golden rope and stands aside for us to pass.
“Mr. Controni,” he greets me as we walk inside the empty club as it only opens at nine pm. Instead of going to the VIP section like I’d always do when I come to Vizioso, we head up to the roof.