Page 43 of Accidental Alliance

“Mom, what are we doing?” Matteo finally asks. His voice is low now, no longer airy with that post-game excitement. He keeps close to my side as we move, his steps shorter than mine, his gaze flicking between my face and the direction we are headed.

“We’re playing a game, silly,” I answer, trying to keep my tone light and easy with the kind of teasing warmth he expects from me.

I hate lying to him.

I hate even more that I am getting good at it.

We reach the far side of the yard and come up to the next corner. I pull both of us gently against the side of the house, flattening our bodies against the brick exterior. Matteo gives a tiny startled huff but lets me guide him where I want him. I can feel the roughness of the brick through my sweater sleeve as I lean just enough to peek back toward the street.

The SUV is still there and has not moved an inch. From here I still cannot tell if anyone is behind the wheel.

The windshield catches too much light and the tinted windows are too dark to penetrate this far away. There is no obvious motion coming from inside, no cigarette ember lighting while waiting, no silhouette shifting in the driver’s seat.

It feels ridiculous to be this paranoid.

This town is full of families and weekend visitors and cars that do not belong to my neighbors.

A blacked-out SUV is not proof of anything. If someone from school saw me now, half-hidden behind a neighbor’s house with my son pressed to my side, they would think I had lost my damn mind.

But Davide’s visit has kept every nerve in me humming with old danger ever since.

When I duck back behind the house, I turn toward Matteo and finally let go of his hand so I can grip both his shoulders instead. “Ready for our game?”

He eyes me suspiciously. “I guess...”

I plaster on a bright smile that feels almost cartoonish. “Okay. First one to the back door wins an extra scoop of ice cream.”

His eyes narrow further. He peeks around me toward where our house sits two down from where we are, then looks back at me with all the grave practicality of a lawyer preparing for cross-examination. “What about the fence?”

For one second I could laugh, though not because any of this is funny. It’s because even now with my pulse thundering and the past feeling as if it’s breathing down my neck, Matteo is still Matteo.

Still thoughtful and exact, remembering every rule I ever laid out for him and refusing to overstep those bounds without probable cause.

God, he would make an incredible capo…

“We’re going to climb over it,” I tell him.

His eyes practically bug out of his head. “But you told me you never wanted me to climb on it because it’s dangerous.”

“I know,” I say quickly, keeping my voice soft. “But this is only for our game, okay?”

I can see the battle happening behind his eyes. The thrill of a secret mission, the lure of the promise at the end of the mission, the confusion over me permitting something I have always forbidden. That instinct inherited from both sides of his bloodline to keep looking closer when something does not make sense is incredible to watch bloom in real-time.

“Okay,” he finally says, though I can tell he is not entirely convinced.

That is fine for now.

At this point, I do not need him to be convinced. I need him compliant.

“Good,” I say, straightening up once again. “Move quickly. Secret mission style.”

At that, a spark of excitement breaks through his uncertainty. He straightens a little, shoulders going back, eyes sharpening as his voice lowers automatically. “Like spies?”

“Exactly like spies,” I whisper back, leaning in conspiratorially.

A tiny grin tugs at the corner of his mouth, some of the tension leaving him, enough that he can play along.

Relief rushes through me so fast, it almost hurts. If I can keep this a game for two more minutes, maybe I can get him inside without him feeling the fear pouring off me like a heatwave.