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Because I grew up in Sicily. My father and mother were still there somewhere. I wanted nothing to do with that entire island. “I just don’t.”
“I haven’t done anything to the Sicilians. And my father has an alliance with them. There’s no way they are after me.”
“Principe.” I swept my hand out toward the dead bodies. “They were after you. The question is, why?”
He frowned at the ground, clearly thinking it over. I left him to his thoughts. Maybe for the first time he would have a new clue as to what happened to Paolo.
Picking up the shovel, I began covering the bodies with dirt.
Eventually, he grabbed the hoe and started helping. Between the two of us, we got the grave filled and then started toward the farmhouse.
“Go inside and start packing,” I said. “Only what you can’t live without, capisce?”
“Why?”
“Because we must leave, right now. There is no time to lose. They know you are here and when this group doesn’t report back . . . .”
More men would follow.
He nodded. “Right. This sucks.”
I hated it, too. I wished we could stay in our little Scottish bubble forever, but I had to get him to safety.
Because Giulio was mine. And I wasn’t giving him up.
Everything had changed. Enzo D’Agostino was now dating Gianna Mancini, Fausto’s sister-in-law. Ravazzani would be heartbroken and furious if Giulio was assassinated, and the entire war would begin once again. D’Agostino would not be so foolish as to risk it, not if he truly cared for Gianna.
This meant the hit on Giulio was no longer needed. Once I spoke to D’Agostino, I’m sure he would agree.
I felt lighter, as if a huge weight had been lifted off my shoulders. I didn’t have to kill Giulio. I could be with him, at least for longer than a few weeks. This meant keeping a huge secret from him, but I didn’t think anyone would ever find out.
I wouldn’t tell. Because Giulio would never stay with the man who almost killed his father.
And if D’Agostino thought to open his mouth, all I had to do was threaten him with the hit he’d ordered on Giulio. Gianna Mancini and Francesca Ravazzani would not like this information one bit. Maybe D’Agostino didn’t allow Gianna as much influence as Fausto did with his wife, but I would bet anything the truce between Ravazzani and D’Agostino was a tenuous one. They wouldn’t want to risk it.
Once we were inside, we separated to gather our things. I moved out of Mrs. Campbell’s days ago, so all of my belongings were at the farmhouse. Not that I traveled with much.
I found my pack and shoved in the essentials. Fake passports and cash. Bullets. A change of clothing, including a cap. My phone and portable battery. I zipped up the sides and threw it over my shoulder. Then I put my rifle back in its case.
Giulio came in as I was finishing. “You don’t have to come with me, you know.”
“Do not dare suggest that I let you go alone.”
“Assassino . . . .” He sighed. “This is my problem.”
I was on him in a blink. Cupping the nape of his neck, I put my forehead to his. “Your problems are my problems. You’re not getting rid of me, principe. I will fight for you with my dying breath.”
His warm exhale gusted over my lips. “Alessio,” he whispered. “I can’t watch another man I care about die.”
He cares about me.
The words filled me with such happiness that I couldn’t keep from kissing him. We needed to escape this island, but I needed to take a moment and hold him in my arms. I slipped my tongue into his mouth and we were quickly clinging to each other, our hands roaming. We acted like lovers reunited after a long separation.
He broke off and kissed my jaw. “Baby, we need to go.”
I nodded. “Do you have what you need?”
Grabbing my hand, he gave me another brief kiss. “Yes. Come on.”
