Adriano shrugged underneath my cheek. “Did you do it?”
“Do what?”
“Paint him. What else?”
My nose was burning hot. “Right, yeah… I did. He was just my model, that’s all.” I sat up straighter. “Who put it in the hallway?”
“I did.”
My head snapped to the doorway, and I startled from deep inside my bones to the surface of my skin, clearly still believing that the shadowy figure belonged in Adriano’s ghost movie. Adriano burst into a fit of laughter even after I slapped his arm, causing Milan to walk in with a frown.
“You are watching entertainment that is designed to scare you on purpose.” He folded his arms as he examined the woman currently floating through the wall on the screen. “That is nonsensical.”
He wasn’t wearing his usual smart suit pants and white shirt, but rather a faded black T-shirt that spread tight across his shoulders and a pair of rugged black cargo pants. He didn’t look like Milan, or maybe he did, and this was the real version of him that I’d wanted to know for weeks.
“Leaving a painting of you naked for anyone to see also feels nonsensical,” I countered, trying to stop myself from eyeing his bodyagain.
The corners of Milan’s lips twitched, and he moved closer, right beside me. He leaned against the arm of the couch, and his smile was always somehow noticeable even if it wasn’t a propersmile. Right there, up close, I could feel it.
Why was that hot?
No.I refused to think of my husband ashotfor another second, but I didn’t look away either.
“I was not naked; my shirt remained on.” He took the remote beside me and paused the movie, flicking the lights on at the same time. “I did leave it facing the wall. If Adriano is nosy, that is not my concern.”
Adriano rolled his eyes as I buried mine underneath the head of the hoodie to avoid the bright lights, but also Milan. I was supposed to hate and avoid him at all costs for forcing me into this life. I was supposed to be suspicious and wary,scaredeven, but every time he let a little layer of himself shed, it became harder and harder to stay completely away.
If he wasn’t a sociopathic murderer, perhaps we could’ve been something.
The Consigliere groaned, rubbing his eyes. “Turn the fucking lights off.”
“Don’t use that word,” Milan scolded.
“Turn the lights off.”
I popped my head back through the hoodie and had to bite my lip to stifle my laugh at Milan’s deadpanned expression.
“I have come to ask a question,” he stated, his eyes flicking straight down to mine. “I am going to the garage.” His gaze traced down my body for a moment, softening when he focused on the sweater, but when his eyes rose to meet mine again, there was something expectant buried there—hopeful perhaps. “Do you wish to experience the business, Sicily?”
He was asking if I wanted to gowith himto a place with sharp tools and probably no cameras.
My racing heart told me that I shouldn’t, that he made me nervous, and the thought of a screwdriver entering my brain made my skin break out in chills.
My father had once told me of the Luccas’ multi-million-dollar car business, the one that had really put them in competition with the other Five Families. I hadn’t thought Milan himself would work on the cars; it wasn’t typical, and usually the boss had a thousand employees, so him inviting me himself didn’t feel like anything but suspicious.
He’d have to try harder than that if he wanted me dead.
I shook my head, wanting to break the contact between us but not being able to look away. “I’m kinda tired.”
He nodded once, but the air flooded with a heaviness and a deep kind of heat as he stood and left without another word, throwing a goodbye to Adrian over his shoulder.
That feeling didn’t go when he did. It settled deep in my chest, and I didn’t know why. I didn’t owe him shit, but I could feel it running deeper than that, slower, like whatever was at the garage was the front for a lot of feelings.
“What the hell was that?” Adriano said, frowning when I turned to find him beside me.
“What?” I snapped. “Iamtired.”
“Bullshit. He wanted you to go. He never asks me to go.”
