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I regarded my brother, who watched us from across the room as he landed another kick against the punching bag. Remo did a lot of things, which were unsettling to someone like Kiara, and he enjoyed them all. “He isn’t a danger to you.”

She raised her eyes to mine, shivering, goose bumps rising along her smooth skin. “Are you sure?”

“Yes.” There was no hesitation in the word. I knew with absolute certainty that Remo wouldn’t lay a hand on Kiara because she was mine.

She nodded slowly, her eyes filled with unease. She was reluctant to believe me. She didn’t know Remo like I did. Very few people in this world were safe around my brother, there was no denying it, but the same could be said for me.

“Why don’t you take a look at the menu and see what kind of pizza you want?” I held it out to her.

She took it from me, eyeing it warily. The stained paper looked like it had seen better days.

I made my way over to my brother, who stopped kicking and raised his eyebrows at me. “That look means I won’t like what you have to say.”

“You scare her.”

Remo gave me an amused smirk. There were very few people who weren’t terrified of my brother.

“I’d appreciate it if you try not to scare her quite so much.”

Remo chuckled, ramming his knee into the bag a few more times before he said, “I didn’t do anything.”

“I know,” I said. “We don’t do well with sensitive women, but Kiara lives under our roof now. She is part of our family, and we should make sure she feels as comfortable as possible given her past and our disposition.”

He tilted his head. “You want us to treat her well?” I followed his gaze toward Kiara, who was assessing the bar area, which was piled with dirty glasses, beer bottles, and plates. The cleaning people were coming in the morning.

“Yes. I want her to be treated like family. I want her protected. I want her safe from any threat. She is a Falcone now. She is mine.”

Remo nodded, not taking his eyes off my wife. She placed the menu down on the bar then glanced up and noticed our gazes. She blinked, stiffening, and then swallowed, quickly picked up the menu again, and fumbled nervously with it. Fear.

“She is safe, Nino.” Remo turned to face me, gripping my forearm. “You are my brother and she is yours. I will make sure everyone in this city, and beyond, realizes she’s under our protection.”

Remo didn’t have many redeeming qualities, much like me, but one of them was his loyalty. If he decided someone fell under his protection, he would stop at nothing to make sure that person was safe.

He let go of my forearm. “And? Have you finally fucked her?

I rolled my eyes at him. “No. And I won’t until she wants me to. She is too scared because of the rape.”

Remo’s eyes moved back to Kiara. She was still staring intently at the menu. She must have memorized every pizza they offered by now.

“Kiara isn’t capable of protecting herself. We need to make sure she is safe wherever she is,” I said.

“I don’t want our soldiers in the mansion. This is our home.”

“I agree. That’s why you or Savio, or even Adamo, should guard her when I’m not around to do it.”

Remo smirked. “Are you sure Kiara wants me to guard her? She might die from fear if I’m alone with her.”

“She will get used to you.”

“I doubt it,” Remo said with a grin.

“It won’t be easy, but eventually she’ll come around if you don’t lose your shit around her.”

“I’ll do my best.”

We both knew what that meant. I returned to Kiara’s side. She was biting her lip, and her body was tense. “So did you find a pizza you want?”

“I’m not very hungry,” she said softly. “Is it okay if I only order a salad with mozzarella and olives?”

“You can eat whatever you like. And if you’re still hungry, you can have a piece of one of our pizzas,” I told her.

She smiled. “Okay. Thanks.”

Remo stalked toward us and stopped beside me and Kiara.

“Ready to order?” he asked.

“I will place the order. Will Fabiano be coming over?”

“Yes. Leona spends the evenings with her crack-whore of a mother.”

Kiara’s eyes widened. I wasn’t sure if it was the insult or because another man was joining us tonight.

I picked up my phone and gave our favorite Italian restaurant a ring. Their pizzas were the best in town. We all got our usual orders, so the addition of a salad caused a bit of a stunned silence on the other end.

“Why don’t you sit down? You can turn on the TV if you want. The food will be here in thirty minutes,” I told Kiara, who stood frozen beside Remo and me.

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