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“I’m sure.” I nod. “Niki, buddy, can you watch some cartoons while I jump in the shower, and then I’ll finish dinner?”
He nods, peeling himself away from me to go and plop in front of the television. Darcy immediately goes to help him pick something, and I mouth thank you before going down the hall to my room.
I put my purse in a drawer and grab some clean clothes, heading immediately for the shower. I check the burner once more before I do—still nothing from Lorenzo, and feel a pang of frustration. I can’t help wondering what he might be doing and who he might be doing it with, and I know I shouldn’t feel the ache of jealousy that burns in my chest. He’s not mine, and he never was.
He was never going to be.
I scrub myself pink in the shower as quickly as I can, throwing on a pair of leggings and a long sleeveless tank top and putting my hair up on top of my head. I can hear the sound of the X-Men coming from the living room, and when I slip out of the bathroom and down the hall, I can see that Darcy is still sitting on the couch.
“I figured I’d wait for you,” she says, standing up. “I’ll go ahead and head out.”
“Thank you for everything.” I give her a quick hug. “Are you still going to be able to bring him to the ballet showcase next weekend?”
Darcy nods. “I wouldn’t miss it. And he’ll love it. I’ll take him home after; I know you can’t miss the party.”
“Thank you.” I smile at her gratefully. “I don’t know what I’d do without you.”
“Oh, I know.” She laughs. “I’ll see you tomorrow night.”
Once she leaves, closing the door behind her, I lock it and turn back to Niki. “Cartoons or coloring while I make dinner?”
He frowns, looking between the television and the kitchen, and then nods at the TV screen.
“Okay, buddy. I’ll just be in the next room.” I ruffle his hair over the back of the couch, and then walk into the kitchen, where I see Darcy had gotten out everything to make spaghetti. Ground beef, noodles, a jar of sauce, and the few fresh ingredients I managed to snag—a garlic clove instead of powder, an onion, and a small bit of fresh basil. I know there’s a box of garlic bread in the freezer, and I retrieve it, setting it on the counter as I reach for a knife.
As I do, I see the bottle of wine I bought the last time I went grocery shopping out of the corner of my eye. I never drink—I’m always worried something will happen with Niki, and I won’t have the presence of mind to handle it—and it’s always a luxury I can’t afford anyway. I shouldn’t even have gotten that bottle, but with the little bit of extra money I had, I’d fallen victim to the temptation to splurge a little. I haven’t touched it yet, but the idea of a glass of wine while I make dinner, after the night I’ve had, sounds very much like what I need.
I uncork the bottle, getting a wine glass out of the cabinet. And then, just as I’m about to set it down on the counter, I nearly drop it as I hear a sudden knock at the door.
“Shit!” I gasp, covering my hand with my mouth and hoping Niki didn’t hear me. Quickly, I set the glass down, hurrying out into the living room as the knock comes again. Niki is looking over the back of the couch at the door, a confused look on his face. Darcy is the only person who ever comes over, and she’s already left.
My chest tightens. “Sit down, buddy,” I tell him absently as I walk towards the door, my stomach churning with nerves. All I can think is that Adams found out my address after all, and now he’s on the other side, demanding answers. You can’t come in without a warrant, I repeat over and over in my head, hoping that’s true and not just something I heard on a crime show once.
I unlock the door, slowly swinging it open. “You—” I start to say…and then the words die on my lips.
It’s not Adams on the other side of the door at all.
It’s Lorenzo.
Mila
For a moment, I can’t breathe.
“What are you doing here?” I whisper weakly, and Lorenzo raises an eyebrow.
“You texted me and said—” he breaks off, and I see his gaze drift over my shoulder. I don’t have to turn to know that he’s seen Niki. “Can I come in?”
I bite my lower lip, hard. Letting Lorenzo in my house is a terrible idea, for any number of reasons. He’ll meet Niki. He’ll be here, in my space, and I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to completely get him out. He tried to set boundaries between us, and this crashes through them all, devastating them.
“You can’t just show up,” I murmur, and Lorenzo nods.
“I know. I’m sorry, Mila. But as soon as I got your text, I was on my way. I had to make sure you were safe—” He breaks off suddenly, his jaw tightening, as if he realizes what he just said—hears the emotion in it as surely as I do.
For a moment, he wasn’t the cold, ruthless mafia underboss. He wasn’t the reserved businessman. He was just himself—the same man who let me go in Alfio’s mansion. The same man held me and kissed me so tenderly in the ballet studio that, for a moment, I actually felt safe.
There are layers to this man; so many different sides. I’m afraid of what side of him I’ll see if I allow him into my home.
“Why is that?” I whisper, looking up at him, into his unreadable green eyes. “Why did you need to make sure I was safe? Because I work for you?”
