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I can speak to your father if you want, I tell her. He’s familiar with the Marinos. I’m sure he’ll talk to me, man to man.

What if you let it slip we’re together?

I lean back in my office chair with my teeth gritted as I let out a shaky breath. This message provokes a torrent of conflict in me. We’re together. That’s a good thing, the right thing. Hell, it feels like the only thing, but the part about letting it slip is downright fucked. It implies—not subtly—that she’s ashamed of our… our what? Our relationship?

Would that be such a bad thing? I counter.

We can’t tell my family until we know we’re serious.

What does that mean, Marie?

I wonder if she’ll get the reference. When she does, I smirk. It means, Pierre, that we need to give this some time. But you’re sure as heck winning some points with these esoteric historical references.

I chuckle. Last night, I searched “famous historical couples.” I’m glad it paid off.

Marie and Pierre Curie. They won the Nobel Prize together. They were a team.

That’s what I want us to be, I tell her. A team.

This is all so new to me, she counters. I’ve never had a boyfriend. They’re all used to seeing me as the shy, withdrawn girl with my head in the historical clouds. If I suddenly announce I’ve been seeing a mafia man and that I really like him after only a week…

A lot can happen in a week. A person can completely change in a week.

Please, Luca, she sends. Let’s take this one step at a time, and I know. I’m too young to be this pessimistic.

I can talk to your dad without letting anything slip, I text her, gritting my teeth. I can say I’ve gotten word on the grapevine he’s been couriering packages in the middle of the night.

What if this has nothing to do with the Family stuff? she replies. We don’t know who those men were.

Then, I’ll be more subtle about it. I’ll pretend to run into him by mistake. Or you could speak with him and tell him you saw him and ask what’s going on.

There’s a long pause. I look up at the computer screen, at the spreadsheet. Suddenly, it all seems so meaningless. I don’t know how Elio did this for years without wanting to tear his hair out. Or maybe it’s like I was thinking a few minutes ago. It was easy before meeting his lady.

Okay, I’ll speak to him about it, she replies. I don’t want to cause World War III if it turns out there’s an innocent explanation.

I clench my teeth. World War III… She’s talking as if it’s a given her parents will disapprove of us. I don’t see how we’ll get over that hurdle if that’s the case. Family is the most important thing, always. If Mom and Dad somehow disapproved of Ruby—I don’t see how anybody could—I’d force them to accept her.

She’s a beautiful, kind young student, and I’m a man who’s taken lives and lives on the dark side of life.

Good idea, Juliet…

Hey, that’s not a good one, she replies. That ended in tragedy.

Yeah, that was my point.

I stare at the message before I send it. I’m being bitter. I’m being soft. Weak. I delete the message, and instead, I send, I can’t wait to see you later.

Then I shove my cell phone in a drawer and focus on my work. My thoughts try to fill with scenes from the future—altars, sparkling engagement rings, honeymoons, and happiness—but I don’t let it. I can’t, not until I know we’ve got a real shot.

What if we don’t? What if she pushes me away? What will I do then? I curl my hand into a fist. I’m being pathetic. I survived well enough before Ruby, and I’ll be fine after, but that’s a lie.

She’s changed me. Forever.

CHAPTER 15

Ruby

“I hear you’re going out this evening,” Lexi says, wandering into the living room. I’m sitting in the armchair, waiting for Dad to get home, attempting—and failing—to read a book.

“Who told you that?” I say.

“Mom mentioned it when I met her for lunch.” Lexi sits opposite me, raising her eyebrows, her mismatched eyes looking into me. “Why? Was it a secret?”

I stare down at my book, trying to laugh, but it comes out shaky. “No. Why would it be?”

“Come on, kid. Cut the crap. Something’s going on.”

“Is it?” I say in the most innocent voice I can muster.

“You’ve been acting weird for a week. You’ve been avoiding me, and when we do talk, you won’t look at me.” When I meet her eyes, she smirks. “See. This eye contact feels weird, doesn’t it? Rare. Where are you going later?”

Lying straight to her face feels impossible, so I’ve been avoiding her. “A date,” I say quietly.

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