She stares at me expectantly, waiting for my answer. There’s a determined glint in her eyes. She wants me to say yes.
Maybe this is how we’ll fix the rift between us. By working together. By learning to trust each other again.
And it’s that thought that makes up my mind. “Fine. We’ll do this. But we have to—”
“Be a team. I know. Vita already gave me the pep talk.”
“And I will end it immediately if it feels like we’re getting too close to the fire,” I warn. “I will not risk your life for the Ferraros, Blake. You have to swear you’ll listen to me.”
She nods. “Okay.”
We wrap up the dinner and step outside. The rain’s slowed to an annoying drizzle. The valet’s busy with a Bugatti that just pulled up to the curb, so Blake and I wait under the awning.
When the valet opens the passenger door, a familiar flash of red catches my eye.
Hold on a sec, that Bugatti looks familiar too…
A woman climbs out of the car and hurries toward us, trying to escape the rain. Her eyes are on the ground, but as she steps under the awning, those green orbs snap right up and land on my face.
Cleo Messero’s lips part. “Nero?”
CHAPTER 14
BLAKE
There’s a redhead wrapped around my husband.
Moments ago, she launched herself at him with a high-pitched squeal, and Nero caught her midair, wrapping his arms around her waist.
A sharp zing of anger shoots up my spine. Who is she? An old flame?
A dark-haired man walks up to them, a grim expression on his face. He stares at the two of them for a long moment before his gaze slides over to me. His eyes are the clearest blue I’ve ever seen, and they pierce right through me, unraveling my thoughts before I can even form them.
It’s unsettling.
Who is he?
It feels like an eternity passes before the redhead untangles herself from Nero. “How?” she breathes.
Nero raises an eyebrow, gesturing toward the man. “Didn’t Rafe…”
The name hits me like a jolt of electricity.
This is Nero’s old boss. Rafaele.
The picture I had in my mind doesn’t match reality. I expected someone older. Someone who looks like a gangster.
But the man in front of me can’t be more than thirty, and he’s gorgeous. He could be the CEO of a Fortune 500 company or a high-powered attorney if it wasn’t for the dark ink on his hands that spilled out from beneath his sleeves.
“Rafe!” The redhead turns on him, her expression aghast. “Are you kidding me?” She smacks her clutch against his arm. “How could you not tell me Nero’s back?”
“You got off the plane three hours ago. I planned to tell you tonight.”
“You could have told me over the phone while I was still in Italy!”
Rafaele shoots Nero a look I can’t quite read. A cry for help?
Nero clears his throat and gently turns the redhead back to face him with a hand on her shoulder. “Cleo, I didn’t give him any notice. It’s only been a few days.”
