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“Well, Antonio would be more believable, but he’s in Palermo.”
“Lucky bastard,” Tiny muttered. We all loved Evie. And my brother was deep in wedded bliss. They had a newborn and were busy making number two, I had no doubt.
“More believable?” Michael asked incredulously. Then he rolled his eyes. “I’m going to tell him you said that.”
“He already knows.”
“And what does little brother have to say about it?”
I smirked. Antonio hated when anyone called him the little brother. We were the same height, but I was older by two years.
“He said he would die for Evie in a heartbeat. So he understands.”
“She’s his wife,” Tiny protested.
“And Francesca will be my wife,” I vowed, daring anyone to argue with me. “But I would do this for her regardless.”
“Great,” Michael said, throwing his hands up in the air. “Lot of help from Tony. This is the worst idea I have ever heard in my life.”
I hid my smile. My cousin was being histrionic. But he was right. The entire proposition was dicey, to say the least.
“It’s not going to be simple. We need to involve the local authorities. Probably a couple of paramedics, too,” I acknowledged grudgingly. “That’s why I have you.”
“So I am the brains of this operation?” Michael asked with raised brows.
“If you like,” I said. My cousin was wickedly smart. But so was I. We were smart in slightly different ways, however. And his mastery of legalese and local civil employees would be more than helpful. He was vital and he knew it.
Michael rubbed his hands together.
“Well, in that case . . .” He leaned forward with a wicked look on his face. “I have a few ideas.”
Chapter Twenty-Two
Francesca
“These came for you, 'Cesca.”
“Again?” I asked Maria, looking around the room. It had been five days since my night with Vincent. Five days. And dozens of white roses had arrived already. More than one delivery a day. The scent of roses filled the air and haunted my dreams at night, reminding me of him.
Not that I could have forgotten. His touch was emblazoned into my skin. My heart. My very soul.
White roses meant he loved me. They meant he was thinking of me. That I needed to be strong. That he was working on a plan.
But today, it was different. Today, the florist had brought pale white peonies, with the barest hint of pink.
Something was happening. It was a distinct change from his routine. An unspoken message of some kind. It had to be.
I knew Vincent was trying to tell me something. All those roses, each and every day. No note. No texts. And then the peonies just this once.
Beautiful, and somehow more fragile than the roses. More subtle. More boisterous. More joyous.
At least, that was the feeling they gave me as I brushed the soft petals across my nose and mouth, inhaling deeply.
I wanted to kiss him. Touch him. But instead, all I had were the flowers to remind me of his touch.
The change in flowers was mysterious. It was frustrating. Not hearing from him this entire time . . . wondering how he was doing. Worrying that he was in danger because of me . . . it was maddening.
I hadn’t felt like this in years. Or ever. I’d never felt scalded by a man’s touch this way. Never had a man invaded my thoughts and my feelings in this way. It was borderline obsessive.
If it weren’t for my precious Angelique, I wouldn’t think of anything else. Not the family. Not all the money on the line with our various business interests.
Vincent was inside me, filling me up, clearing me out of all the nonsensical worries that used to seem so important. Nothing else mattered anymore. Now, it was only life and death. Only love.
Only him.
I opened my phone to stare at the picture I had taken during my sweet girl’s visit the week before. She was beautiful. Healthy. Well-fed. Alive. But there was a pinched, worried look in her gorgeous eyes that made my heart ache.
She missed her mama. And she knew something was wrong, no matter how I tried to hide my fears. She was confused about why she was staying with her daddy all the time.
Never again, I vowed to her silently. Never would I allow her to be taken from me again.
How could I be so heartbroken and so full of love in the same moment?
I closed my eyes and forced myself to get to work. I had things to do. The world didn’t stop turning because I couldn’t see my baby girl. It didn’t stop turning because I had unexpectedly found love with my greatest enemy.
It didn’t stop turning for anyone or anything.
Time to get a move on, girl. Put it in a box. Put it all in a box and bury it deep inside.
