“Morning.” I take the open counter stool next to Enzo, pulling down the hem of the shirt when it rides up my thighs. “Wasn’t expecting you two, of all people, to be out here.”
“Just here to check on your man,” Enzo scoffs, like this entire encounter isn’t worth his time.
Spinning my stool, Luciano tips my head back with his hand and kisses me deeply, then brings his lips to my ear and growls, “You look far too sexy in my shirt to be out here in it while we have company.” He takes half a step back and rubs his thumb over my cheek rhythmically, a small smile playing on his lips as he does.
“It was either that or last night's dress,” I quip, then I turn to Enzo and Nixon. “Why do I have the feeling you’re not here just to check on him?”
“Perceptive. And here I thought you were all beauty,” Enzo goads at the same time Luciano asks if I want some coffee.
I nod yes, then wait for one of them to explain.
Surprisingly, Luciano speaks up. “They came to give me a gun.”
Surprised, my head swings in his direction. “What?”
“I’m confident they won’t be back, but there’s no reason Luciano shouldn’t have a reliable method of self-defense,” Nixon offers.
“Do you know how to shoot, Paladino?” Enzo’s question piques my interest, and my head volleys back in Luciano’s direction.
“Of course I know how to shoot a gun,” Luciano snaps. “You don’t grow up under Maurizio Paladino’s thumb and not know how to shoot properly. There’s a difference betweenwantingto do something and beingforcedto learn.”
His eyes meet mine, then he turns back to Enzo. “I don’t want the gun. I appreciate the gesture, and even the concern, but I’m not going to take it.”
“I have no concern for you.” Enzo stands, picking his now empty mug up and walking around the counter, closer to Luciano. “Make no mistake, Luciano. We are not friends. I’m not concerned whether you live or die. I’m here out of loyalty to my cousin, who, as much as I detest the fact that he married into your family, is loyal to your sister. If you die, she’s unhappy, and if she’s unhappy, he’s unhappy. Are you following?”
“Enzo,” Nixon warns, narrowing his eyes at him. Then he looks back at Luciano. “You should take the gun.”
Enzo turns to Nixon. “If he’s refusing to take the gun, I’m sure as hell not going to try to persuade him to. It’s his ass on the line, and if he’s too much of a pussy to use it to protect themboth”—his eyes drift over to mine before reconnecting with Nixon’s—“that’s on him, not us.”
“I’m going to fix this,” I finally speak up. My heart hammers in my chest, but I know I don’t have a choice. Lifting my chin, my eyes drag over each of the men before me before finally settling on Luciano. “I’m going to fix this.”
“Like hell you are,” he retorts, deadly calm.
“All I have to do is call him and?—”
“Like. Hell. You. Are.” Every word is enunciated, and his stare turns icy, sending a slight tremble down my spine. “You aremine, Raina. There is nothing for you to fix. All you need to do now is let me do my jobas your attorneyand get you divorced. I’ll be damned if you waste one more breath on him, and you sure as hell aren’t going to stay married to him any longer than islegallynecessary. I’ll contact every fucking judge in this city and pull every owed favor if I have to, but hear me when I say you are not going to call him.”
There’s a wild look in Luciano’s eye when he finishes his angry declaration, and he stomps toward me, fisting the T-shirt. He pulls me to my feet and against his body. The fabric falls ashe releases it, snaking his hand around to my lower back to move me even closer to him.
The way he wants me right now is palpable, and my body responds, arousal pooling low in my belly. With a nudge of his hips, I feel his length against me, and my knees go weak as his other hand dances on my thigh at the edge of the T-shirt’s hemline.
I watch his eyes darken, and with a small shift of his body, he’s concealed me from the two men in his kitchen. “Fuck,” he breathes as his fingers find me already soaked for him.
“Get out,” he barks at Enzo and Nixon. “And take the gun with you.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
“So let me get this straight—” Sully inserts himself into the conversation as he shoves another piece of sushi into his mouth. “You had a one-night stand.”
“That’s the part you’re choosing to focus on?” Luciano grumbles. His hand is draped across the back of my chair, and he plays with the edge of my hair, twirling it between his fingers as he listens to our friends comprehend everything we’re telling them.
It’s been just over a week since the incident at the club on Luciano’s birthday, and the first time we’ve sat down with everyone to really discuss what happened.
“I did,” I confirm again. “As I’ve told you, Javier asked me to go out with him and his friend Felipe, and we started drinking before we even got to the club.”
“And you don’t remember most of your night?” Sully asks slowly, like he can’t quite believe it.
I shake my head. “Bits and pieces, but nothing after leaving the club.”
