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“One more thing. Matteo Romano has been seen in the city, according to my guys.”

“Shit.” That meant he was behind this. He had to be. “Give me a couple of hours. I’ll bring more men to transport Luca.”

“I can handle it, Gio. You’re with Emilia—”

“I’m not taking her anywhere while Romano is in New York. Get all your guys on it. I want him dead, Jackson.” Dead and nowhere near Emilia. I could still remember the way he had looked at her, like he owned her, like she owed him something.

This all seemed too coincidental right after the wedding. They must have followed Jackson when he he’d taken Luca back to the warehouse. Which meant they knew we were now married, and they were watching us. The thought made me uneasy. “Until then, just hold the perimeter and get rid of the bodies.” I hung up and fought the urge to launch my phone at the wall.

Emilia would probably be annoyed at my canceling our date, but she’d be more pissed if she found out her brother was nearly killed and I took her out on a day trip.

I also didn’t want to tell her any of this right now and panic her unnecessarily.

Turning around, I strode into the kitchen. “Change of plans. We have to go back to the house.”

“Okay.” A trace of disappointment crossed Emilia’s face before she masked it. “Everything all right?”

“Yeah.” I moved closer to her and kissed the top of her head. “It’s just not as safe as I’d hoped.”

She slid from the stool and washed her plate before moving to the door. “Let’s go then.”

And just like that, the bubble burst. Normality crept back in. Death and war and responsibility. For the first time in my life, I didn’t want any of it. If it weren’t her brother, if I weren’t worried about her safety, I would leave it all to burn right now.

“I promise I will make this up to you, piccola.” I opened the door. “When it’s safe.”

“It’s never safe, Gio.” She offered me a soft smile. “It’s okay. I was born into the mafia, remember? I’m used to it.”

She was used to having no life, to being sheltered and caged. That would not be her life with me. We’d had peace and a degree of safety for years. I would handle Chicago, and we would have that again. I would give her that.

20

EMILIA

Renzo took a seat beside me, sliding a plate across the table. I picked up the Nutella-smothered bagel and took a bite. His cooking skills certainly weren’t up to Gio’s standards, but I would never turn down sugar.

Ren had been fussing all morning, hovering, like he was expecting me to have some kind of breakdown.

I wasn’t thrilled at the prospect of marrying Gio yesterday, but things were different now. Those three words hadn’t magically fixed everything, but they had granted me permission to forgive him. Or maybe deep down, I was just so desperate to be loved that those words really were magic. I would have admonished myself for my childish naivety, but the man had put a gun to his own head. It was insane and, well…what I needed.

I wasn’t about to discuss last night with Renzo, though. I wouldn’t be able to talk about even the most innocent of it without turning fifty shades of red.

I turned my attention to Tommy at the end of the table, avoiding Renzo’s inevitable scrutiny. He lifted a cup of coffee to his lips, and that small motion was enough to make him flinch. He hunched over slightly, his face pale.

I’d give him more painkillers, but Gio told me not to. Right before he’d left in a rush a few hours ago. He wouldn’t tell me what this new danger was or where he was going, and it took everything in me to swallow the questions I wanted to ask.

I had to accept that he was a mafia boss, that he wouldn’t tell me everything. That was the role of a mafia wife, and as much as I hated it, I could play it if I had to. I’d watched my mother do it for years.

This was what I’d traded in exchange for Luca’s life. At least Gio loved me, and I loved him. That was more than most mafia brides got.

“He should be back by now, shouldn’t he?” I asked no one in particular.

With my uncle still on the loose, I couldn’t help but worry. This was the other part of my life now—waiting to see if he’d make it home safe or die or get arrested.

I caught a brief look exchanged between my brother and Tommy before they both looked anywhere but at me.

“What was that?”

Tommy offered me an innocent smile. “What was what?”

I turned to Renzo because I could read him like a book and knew him better than myself. “What was that look, Ren?”

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