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He offers his hand. “I’m Dom. Thought I’d drop by to check on my little brother and meet the better half.”

Holding my breath, I take his hand.

His grip feels firm, but not crushing, like he’s being very careful not to scare me.

“Sylvie,” I offer. And my brain has forgotten he probably already knows that.

“I know.” His lips quirk up. “Luca didn’t tell me much about you, but I know your name.”

“Yeah, that’s him all right. Tight lips.”

Dom’s eyebrows lift and his eyes warm like he wasn’t expecting a quip.

He gestures me to sit and we make our way to the couch. The two men with him get up.

“Joe, Vince, go take a walk,” Dom orders. “Maybe you guys can find something in the kitchen.”

The two men depart, closing the door behind them.

Once they’re gone, Dom turns to me.

“Tell Luca I’m sorry. Your kitchen might be bare once they finish raiding it. My men are starving bears.”

I laugh awkwardly. I don’t know what else to do.

“I will—if I see him. He’s been busy lately. Or he just can’t stand me. Who knows.” I shrug.

My cheeks burn, wondering why I’m slipping anything to this stranger.

“Is that so?” Dom’s dark eyes focus, assessing me.

Like I said. Awkward.

I shift on the couch, clearing my throat.

“No, that came out wrong. Everything’s fine, really. I’m just surprised he’s not here with us. He never said—”

“You don’t need to explain, Sylvie. I know what pisses off my brother,” he says. “I also know Luca married you for a reason. He doesn’t do half measures.”

I look down at my hands, clasped tight so I don’t fidget.

“He doesn’t do a lot of explaining either.”

Silence.

Dom studies me quietly, like he’s trying to figure out if I’m a liability or a new asset.

“I hear you’ve been good to him,” he says at last. “When I brought you up, he got flustered. That’s never happened with any woman in his life.”

I look up.

“It certainly hasn’t been easy for him, running his side of the business when I know he’d rather be anywhere else,” Dom continues. “None of us wanted to wind up in Minnesota. Darkest, longest winters known to man. However, I think you’ve given him a fresh sense of purpose. It takes the edge off his time in Scrub City.”

I nod, amazed at how they talk about this place like it’s the wilderness. Like any place outside the Windy City isn’t even civilized, let alone worthy of a Ferrazzo’s royal presence.

Not so different from how Seattleites could be when you mention Bellingham or Spokane, though.

“It’s a decent place,” I say. “And Luca, he’s a decent man. When he wants to be.”