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I lean down and kiss her, slow this time, my mouth gentle against hers. When I pull back, she’s looking at me with those wide hazel eyes, and something soft has replaced the hunger.

She laughs. Softly. A sound so unexpected that it takes me a second to process.

“I think,” she says, her voice husky from screaming, “I’ve learned my lesson now.”

I raise an eyebrow. “Have you?”

“Mmm.” She traces one finger along my jaw. “No more pretending to sleep.” Her mouth twitches. “And apparently no more sulking.”

I can’t help grinning at the pointed way she says the last word. I know she wasn’t sulking, but provoking her got a reaction, so I’m not regretting being an asshole.

“From now on, I’ll come find you when I’m scared instead of hiding.”

Something warm settles in my chest. I brush a strand of hair from her face. “Good girl.”

I grab the blanket from the couch and wrap it around her after lifting her into my arms. Then I carry her to the bedroom. Her head rests against my shoulder, her breath warm on my neck.

“Shower,” I tell her as I push the bathroom door open with my foot. “Then bed. I want you asleep for real this time.”

“Yes, Daddy,” she murmurs against my skin, and the word lands exactly where it’s supposed to.

11

Kira

Days slip by in no time at all, and the city changes around me. The trees have turned a burning orange and red, the air now carrying a crisp bite. I always pay attention to those little things so I can describe them to Mom when I visit her.

I take a picture of the trees next to the store I’m standing in front of. Said store is all glass and brass. Everything looks so expensive and slightly daunting.

“Hey,” Carly calls, snapping her fingers to get my attention. “Don’t look so spooked. It’s just a shop.”

I huff. “Just a shop? I’ve walked by this place before, Carly. Everything in there—”

She cuts me off by clicking her tongue in annoyance. “Nope, none of that. Domenico had the shop closed down for us, and made sure there are only women in there because he and Gio just have to control everything.”

“What’s your point?” I gulp.

“My point is that if we don’t go in there, it’s a waste of the money he’s already paid.” She grins wickedly at me. “And since your husband is in charge of mine, I’m not going to allow you to anger him.”

She’s joking, right? God, I hope she is.

Instead of arguing with her, I get out of the car when Vinny gives us both the go-ahead. Wasting no time, Carly marches up to the door and pushes it open with all the confidence of someone who’s used to shopping in a place like this.

Following her, I hold my worn handbag in both hands, the way a kid holds a lunch box on the first day of school. Vinny quietly slips in behind us. The man’s a master of being there without drawing attention to himself.

Inside, the boutique is all polished cream marble and wide-spaced racks. Silk dresses hang like ghosts, and there’s a single white orchid on every glass display case, their petals perfect and unnatural in a way that makes me wonder if they’re real.

“I’m here with Mrs. DeLuca,” Carly says to the woman behind the counter, and the name hits the room like a thrown rock.

Four women appear from nowhere. Two flank us immediately, their smiles practiced and warm. A third disappears through a door at the back, and the fourth materializes with a silver tray holding two flutes of something pale and bubbling.

“Champagne?” she offers.

I shake my head. “Just water, please.”

Carly takes a flute with a nod. She sips it while scanning the store, one hand on her hip, looking like she belongs here in a way I never will. She’s wearing a cream silk blouse tucked into slim black pants, and her blonde hair falls in loose waves past her shoulders.

I clutch my bag tighter and think about the black credit card Domenico handed me before we left. “Get whatever you want, Kira. There’s no limit.”