She’s quiet.
I light the cigar, taking my time, the way Vincenzo taught me to twenty years ago, and I draw on it once.
“Raffaele.”
“Mm.”
“I’m not—I’m not trying to—” She stops. She tries again. “I’m trying to be in this with you. That’s the only thing I’m trying to do. So, if there’s something I should know, even if it’s a small?—”
“There isn’t.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yes.”
The lie is small enough that I can carry it for the rest of the morning. I tell myself that. I almost believe it.
I put the cigar down on the dish and lean over to take her face in my hand, gently. Her eyes glisten in the morning light as I tilt them up to look at me.
“Whatever I have to do, I’ll do. Nico. Vincenzo. The whole fucking family if it comes to it. None of that touches you. That is the one thing I will not let happen. Do you understand?”
“Yes.”
“Say something other than yes.”
“Okay.”
“Okay.”
I lean down and kiss her.
But only for a moment. Just long enough to remind both of us what this is becoming.
What it might already be.
Then I get up, because if I stay another minute, I’m not going to leave, and Vincenzo needs to hear from me before he hears from anyone else.
She sighs as I pull away.
As I get changed, she pulls the duvet up to her chest and stares at the city through the glass. The morning climbs across her shoulders, and I make myself not look at her for the seven seconds it takes to find a clean shirt.
I won’t be long, I promise her, too cowardly to say it out loud. Or maybe the promise isn’t for her. Maybe it’s for me.
The elevator is at the end of the hallway. I pull out my phone on the way and type:
One on the lobby. Two on the garage. One on every elevator that touches this floor. Twenty-four-hour rotation. Starting now.
I stand in front of the elevator with my finger near the send button, but I don’t press it yet.
This isn’t what I do. I’ve set up security details for half this family at one point or another. Wives. Cousins. The judge’s daughter the year of the Mendez thing. But never for myself. Never for one of my own.
Well, fuck. It’s about time.
Finally, I have someone I care about enough to protect.
I press the button.
My phone buzzes in my hand.
