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“There’s too many of them and too few of us,” I mutter. “Besides, it’s going to be impossible to mobilize that many men.”
“Then I’ll sneak into his territory and put a bullet through his skull.”
“No,” I say.
He scowls. “But?—”
“Galliano is too protected. If anyone’s going to kill him, then we’ll use a pro.”
Cesare clenches his jaw, his chest rising and falling with the force of his anger.
I feel for my little brother. He was the closest to our mother, who left us to marry Galliano. Two years later, when she died during an unnecessary surgery, he fell into a destructive spiral.
He despises Galliano more than anything, but I can’t risk him on what could be a suicide mission. Especially not for a woman who abandoned the family when we needed her the most.
“I doubt the Moirai group will accept a hit on Galliano.” Benito’s voice cuts through my thoughts. “Conflict of interest.”
Humming, I tap a finger against my chin, trying to muster up a solution. Benito is right. We can always use our cousin Leroi. Anyone who can single-handedly infiltrate Capello’s stronghold and murder his entire family can easily dispatch Galliano.
“Before you think of calling Leroi, remember he’s still injured,” Benito adds.
“I know,” I growl. “We’ll just have to conjure up another way to deal with the Moirai.”
THIRTY-FIVE
EMBERLY
I might be floating on the clouds of artistic success, but Jim’s third attempt to recapture me anchors me to reality. I can’t sleep in the studio. It’s too remote from the rest of the household, and the bed doesn’t smell of Roman.
After signing the contract and completing another painting, I return to the main building. The patio doors to Roman’s study are locked, so I walk around the ivy-covered mansion toward the front entrance.
I shower in Roman’s master suite, change into one of his oversized nightshirts, and snuggle into his sheets. The pillow still smells of his cologne, and I lie on the firm mattress with my eyes closed, my mind filling with thoughts of him.
He’s harsh on the outside and there’s no doubt he’s ruthless, but beneath the exterior of a mafia don is a man who cares deeply for those in his life. And somehow, through a miracle of fate, one of them happens to be me.
Warmth fills my chest at the thought of filling a spot in his affections. When I’m close to him, it’s impossible not to feel special.
The door creaks open, and footsteps enter the room, only to come to an abrupt halt.
“This is a surprise.” Roman’s deep voice curls around my skin, infusing it with tingles.
“I can’t sleep in the pool house,” I murmur, my eyes closed.
He sighs. “You’re always welcome in my bed.”
I expect him to climb in and run his hands over my exposed skin, but he walks to the bathroom and turns on the shower. My heart sinks a little at what feels like a rejection, but I shake off that disappointment. Roman could be covered in blood. He’s still dealing with the fallout from last night’s shooting.
Just knowing he’s only a room away sends me into a deep state of relaxation. As I’m drifting off to sleep, the mattress dips, and Roman curls up behind me and nuzzles my neck.
“Goodnight, baby,” he murmurs into my curls. “I could get used to finding you in my bed after a long day of cracking heads.”
He rubs slow circles over my belly, making my blood heat. I push my ass into his crotch, wanting to get something started, but he falls asleep.
I settle, remembering that he didn’t go to bed last night and is probably still in pain from being hit with all those bullets, even if he was wearing lightweight armor.
It’s not long before I join him for the most blissful sleep I’ve had since I escaped Jim’s house.
* * *
