AllFreeNovel
Share Us
To my surprise, Salvatore gently links his arm around my waist and says nothing, just holds me close to him as we walk along together. A silent vow of protection that doesn’t need words.
I touch the necklace again.
I am slowly starting to understand him, one piece at a time. Every bold declaration, gentle promise, and expensive gift tells me the truth about him, lets me map him out. He has a heart in there. After last night, I’m sure of it. Even the parts of him that scare me—he uses them to protect me, to defend me.
My wife.
Maybe those words don’t sound so bad when he says them.
17
Salvatore
“What do women want?”
Marcel gives me a bewildered look as we drag the dead weight of Donny Lovera by his underarms. We haul the pulp of a man into an adjacent cell. He’s not a small man to move, even for the two of us, and he collapses into the dirt in a lifeless heap.
“That’s above even my qualifications, Sal,” Marcel gasps, wiping grime off his forehead. He takes out his phone. “Hey, Siri—”
“No, forget it.” I wave him off, annoyed that I even asked a question like that.
When Donny doesn’t move, I give him a diagnostic kick in the ribs. A pathetic whimper confirms he’s still alive.
I take out a cigarette as we leave. Marcel slides the wine cellar rack back into place and latches it.
After today, Contessa has me in knots.
Our interactions feel like a Rorschach test, each of us coming away from the same image with completely different impressions. It’s not working out the way I thought it would—but it’s still working out. Do I sit back and coast or grab the wheel and risk over-correcting?
“We’ll try him again tomorrow,” Marcel says.
“No. Give him a few days.”
Donny hasn’t been the most cooperative prisoner yet, but he’ll come around. They usually do. We make our way out of the deep wine cellar and into the fading evening, dim and cold. I had every intention of bringing Contessa out here with me for the first time tonight.
Having her by my side, making her watch, getting her used to this new part of her life.
Couldn’t do it.
I sent her upstairs with Ava to go over the shopping haul.
“Is something going on with Contessa?” Marcel asks, sensing the mood. “You don’t ask something like that for no reason.”
We stop in the shadow of the house.
“It’s nothing,” I say, even if I don’t believe it. “Did you look into the Lowry girl?”
“Address, phone number, employment history, family. Her uncle’s ex-NYPD, but it wasn’t a notable career. No indication that they’re close.”
“I want you to make contact. Bring her here.”
Marcel hesitates.
“Define ‘bring her.’”
If I send Marcel out to drag the girl here kicking and screaming, Contessa won’t be happy about it. I consider our options, my eyes flicking toward her window by sheer habit. It’s empty.
“Send an invitation for this weekend. Contessa’s engagement party. If she doesn’t accept, then we’ll have to make different arrangements."
