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“Give him a chance, Vittoria.”
I butter a scone, take a bite and swallow before answering. “According to the terms of the contract, I kinda think I should give all of them a chance, don’t you think?”
“No, I don’t.” Romeo’s voice is in my ear. He moves like a lethal predator, silent and deadly. My skin prickles with awareness at how close he is, so close he could reach out and wrap me in his arms. “In fact, I—”
Glass explodes above us, the chandelier over the dining room table raining broken shards on top of us. Screams erupt like fireworks. I’m shoved to the floor, under a heavy body. I’m not breathing. Another explosion shatters something right beside us. Romeo flattens himself on top of me, and my head hits the floor.
I feel as if I’m submerged in earth, under a weighted blanket. The sounds around me are muffled, but I can hear panicked screams and shouts, the squeal of tires, followed by Romeo’s deep booming voice. I can’t quite make out what he says, but everything around us seems to calm. There’s no more screaming, anyway.
“Are you all right?” he asks me almost angrily, daring me to be injured, daring me to give him a reason for seeking revenge. I’m reminded of the night he killed for me. He looks as if he wished he had someone in front of him now with a throat ready to slit.
I nod. My head hurts, and I feel bruised and tender, but I’m okay. “I’m fine. You can get off me now.”
He doesn’t move. Maybe he likes the way I feel underneath him, but he’s sort of suffocating me. “Uh, Romeo. Can you let me up?”
Still nothing. Lovely. I have a permanent human weighted blanket on me.
He’s barking out commands to various people. “Secure the front door. Tavi!” I can’t see much but Tavi bolts past, fast as lightning. I hear more shattering of glass, Tosca screams, then a holler and a shout outside followed by a bang.
“Motherfucker,” Mario mutters. He’s kneeling on one knee beside me, his pistol in hand. “Just fuckin’ leapt out that window, didn’t he?’
Romeo’s still shouting out orders like a drill sergeant. “Get Tavi back up! And take that motherfucker to the dungeon. Where’s Papa?”
I’m waiting for sirens, but it’s eerily quiet. Too quiet.
“Isn’t anyone going to call an ambulance? The police?” Someone nearby laughs softly, but I don’t see who. Someone else mutters something I can’t quite hear, but the words, “doesn’t know who we are” are loud and clear before Romeo growls in Italian and silences him.
Finally, finally, he moves off of me, but only so he can wrap an arm around my back like a band. “Stay there. You sure you’re alright?”
“Yeah.” Why does he want me to stay here?
“Marialena okay?” he asks.
“Yes,” she says in an affronted voice. “Who was that?”
“Not sure,” Romeo says grimly. “But that was only a warning.” He blows out a breath but doesn’t say anything else. If that was only a warning, does that mean they’ll be back?
“Vittoria, I want you seen by the doctor.”
“She said she’s fine, Rome,” Marialena says gently. She gives him a placating look, like she’s used to him by now.
It only takes minutes for everything to be righted. No one’s hurt, but Tosca cries over the broken stained glass windows, one broken by Tavi when he launched himself outside to catch one of the men that attacked. It seems this wasn’t an errand to kill anyone, but to scare them.
Food’s cleared and the hall’s cleaned almost by magic. Romeo gives orders and instructions, and finds his father’s been holed up in his office. When Tavi talks to him about the man he found, Romeo looks at me before speaking in Italian. Tavi looks grim, but nods.
“Vittoria.” Romeo stares at me, and jerks a finger at the doorway. “Come with me.”
I don’t know why I go. I don’t know why I follow his command, but something tells me now probably isn’t the time to push things. He brings me into a small room with coat hangers and shelving. The coat closet?
“Come here, bella.” He sits on a chair and beckons me to him.
“Uh. Your family just got shot at and you want to have a little private chat?”
“I don’t want to chat, Vittoria.” His gaze is implacable, his tone insistent. “Now come here.”
I walk slowly to him, not sure what he wants to do.
“But what if they come back?”
“Oh, they’ll come back,” he says, unconcerned.
“Why aren’t you… calling the police or something?”
“We don’t need the police.” He lowers his voice, and his brows draw together. “Now are you going to do what I tell you or are you going to disobey me? Don’t try me, woman.”
What?
This is the man who wants to marry me?
I swallow and lick my lips. I don’t know the effects of adrenaline, but I feel as if my blood runs through my veins with liquid fire.
