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"Escort?" I asked.

Lino looked her way, considering for a moment. "Yep," he responded finally. I appreciated the honesty, that he didn't deny that he knew her by sight. To do so would have only insulted me, given that he was likely to be acquainted with the girls that Matteo ran, since it was all part of the same business.

I didn't feel a speck of jealousy.

None.

Instead of allowing it, I turned to him and nuzzled into his chest. The smell of his soap gave me the comfort I needed to brush off the stirring of unwelcome feelings. He'd been nothing but honest with me in the past, and I trusted that if he had any intention of being unfaithful, he would at least be honest with me on that front.

The women of the past didn't matter.

They didn't have him now, and they wouldn't ever if I had anything to do with it. The thought suddenly filled me with the desire to see our marriage through, like a real marriage. To have Lino as mine and not just in name.

It made me feel more determined than ever, rather than just hopeful. If nothing else, I could take the circumstances that had led me here, the lemons of a horrible marriage, and make lemonade in the form of what I'd always wanted.

"Mr. Bellandi," an older woman whispered as she approached. "Congratulations on another successful event." She reminded me very much of Lino's stepmother, with long brown hair that seemed unusual for her age. Most women in their forties started keeping it a little shorter, but she just let hers hang in a way I might have admired if her eyes didn't narrow on me briefly before dismissing me.

"Ms. Romano. Have you met my wife, Samara?" he asked, communicating that her dismissal had been preemptive. I didn't let myself think about what or who she may have seen him embracing in the past.

"I don't think I've had the pleasure," she said, holding out a hand for me to shake. I took it politely even though I wanted to ignore it, given her early dismissal. "I wasn't aware you were married, Mr. Bellandi." The way she gave me a pointed look, I knew she meant to hint at affairs, not even remotely concerned with what that knowledge being delivered in such a public setting might have done to me.

"We're newlyweds," I announced, feeling determined to take control of the conversation since she didn't seem capable of showing respect as a natural reaction to meeting someone new.

"Ah, that explains it." The smile on her face was brittle, rea

dy to crack at any moment from how fake it was. "Where did you two meet?" she asked. "Was it here?"

"No. Lino and I have been friends since childhood," I responded. "My brother Yavin manages Tease."

Lino chuckled at my side, and eventually his hand found mine. "Come with me," he murmured, dragging me away from the woman I didn't want to be around, anyway. I gave her a dramatic wave, plastering a friendly smile on my face. I knew my bitterness clung to the edges, that it was clearly fake. I just didn’t care. Not when she could so callously dismiss me without ever speaking to me.

I didn’t understand how Lino and Matteo navigated these waters, weeding out the users and abusers. It seemed impossible, like a threat or a liar lurked on every corner. It felt like it would be impossible to trust anyone, let alone build a real, genuine family in the way they had.

“Samara, this is Emilio,” Lino said, stepping up to the middle-aged man who lingered at the edges of the VIP area. “You’ve met before, I believe?”

“Briefly, yes. It’s nice to see you again,” I agreed, holding out a hand for him to shake. His brown eyes narrowed on it briefly, but he eventually reached out his own. I wasn’t overly familiar with the salt and pepper haired man with the body of a linebacker even though he was old enough to be Lino’s father, but I had seen him a few times in passing. Enough to know that Lino trusted him enough to let him guard his sister when her permanent security was unavailable.

“You too, Mrs. Bellandi.”

“Emilio has agreed to be your full-time security,” Lino said, answering the question I hadn’t thought to ask even though there had to be a point to him introducing us.

He wiped his hand on his pants subtly when he drew his hand back, and I bit my lip, wiping the clammy sweat off my hand.

I felt sufficiently disgusting, but honestly. It was a nightclub, and hot as all Hell. “He’ll drive you to and from work. Anytime you leave the office, you’re to notify him ahead of time so that he can escort you.”

I turned wide eyes up to my husband, even if I had known what was coming. “That can’t be necessary.”

“Those are my conditions, Little Dove. This is the only way that I can protect you and allow you the freedom to come and go as you please. I won’t apologize for doing whatever it takes to keep you safe,” he said, and his hand tightened around my waist.

With a sigh, I nodded. Ivory’s words rang in my head, that if nothing else I was safer with Lino than alone. I had to accept that his protection came at the cost of my privacy. “Okay.”

Lino let out a sigh of relief, and I felt immediate guilt that he’d anticipated me arguing the point. Deep down, I knew he honestly just wanted to protect me.

Even when he went about it in all the wrong ways.

“I’ll be in touch,” he said to Emilio, before he turned his attention back to me. “I want to dance with you.”

Even though I wasn’t much of a dancer, I let him guide me to the lower level. I knew Lino probably had business he would need to tend to, and that when the time came, I would need to navigate the waters of his club without him. Having him with me all the time—the perfect little bubble we'd existed in for half a month—couldn't last forever.

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