AllFreeNovel
Share Us
They disperse at once, rushing off to make everything I said happen. Only Marino remains in the seconds following my set of orders. He takes a cautious step forward.
“Boss,” he says. When a second passes and I say nothing, he chances it, and continues. “I believe Luca ain’t bullshitting you about not working alone. The intel we received is that he’s involved other crime families—ones that ain’t even Italian-American.”
My eyes narrow, my mind racing. “Of course the little sack of bones would. He can’t do shit on his own. I want the rest of our crew here to look into Rastelli in Sicily. His ass has been foaming at the mouth for revenge since I took out my own uncle. He’s never gotten over it. I’ve never gotten over him helping him try to blow me up. He should’ve been taken out long ago.”
“He and Luca aligning makes sense.”
“What makes sense is them in a body bag. You and a few others will be headed to Sicily to take care of him. He wanted my attention, he’s got it.”
“Yes, Boss.” Marino’s gone as fast as my other men, off to make my every command a reality.
I breathe out a ragged breath and flex my fingers. The itch to destroy something has grown infinitely stronger. But the only thing that will quell this rage is feeling Luca Lovato’s pulse drain as I crush his windpipe, and then break his bones in half.
Though, for him to have Falynn’s name in his mouth, I just may keep him alive a while longer. Torture him to the absolute extent of human pain. I’ve done it before. Just ask my dead brother.
Once I’m finished plotting how to move forward, I return upstairs to our bedroom. I expect to find Falynn already packing. Dante said he informed her where she’ll be headed. I’ll be returning to the States. She’ll be off to a heavily guarded, undisclosed compound for her own protection.
Her luggage sits untouched by the closet when I enter. No time for such bullshit remains. I stride up to one of her suitcases and toss it onto the bed. It bounces on the mattress and lands on its side. She looks over from where she sits by the window, giving no real reaction either way.
“Get up,” I snarl. “Get packed. You’re being taken somewhere for safekeeping.”
“What’s going on?” she asks.
I ignore her. I’m in no mood for chitchat. Not even with Falynn. Any pleasantness between us from our silly second honeymoon has vanished. It upsets her when I’m cold around her, but she’s just going to have to toughen up and accept it.
I’ve done nothing but treat her with kid gloves since Carlotta’s warning.
Moglie felice vita felice. Happy wife, happy life.
The thing is, there’s no more time left for softness. The open window to dedicate to her happiness has closed. There are more pressing matters to address now.
Over the past few years, Falynn’s developed a bad habit of moping. It’s aggravating, because it’s the opposite of how she once was—so bright and full of life.
Ashineis what I used to call it. She lit up my dark world.
You can’t argue with age and time; we all change. We grow older and mature. I can’t expect her to remain the same as she was when she was twenty-four, but this goes beyond maturing. She’d rather wallow in sadness than pick herself up and adapt to my lifestyle.
The pregnancy struggles have definitely played a large part of it. So has my increasingly tightening security and control. Even Louis’s absence seems to have gotten to her. None of these things are negotiable, though. They’re reality, and shemustlearn to deal.
Falynn pretends she’s a weak woman. Some sort of fragile, wounded bird. I’ve never bought it—I know the strength deep inside her. If she can withstand my brother’s torment, she’s stronger than she wants me to believe.
I disappear from our bedroom again to place a few more calls. My private jet is safest, which is why I arrange for it to transport Falynn. For myself, I reach out to the French President. It’s always a risk relying on a third party for these type of arrangements, but my ties to him are strong enough to trust no fuckshit will be tried. Desperate times call for desperate measures.
I’m pleasantly surprised to find Falynn packing the next time I check on her. Though she does so silently, expressionlessly, she’s packed up as I asked. She refuses to spare me a look or even any words, but I don’t care. She’s obeyed, and that’s all that matters.
“Dante will be taking you to the airport. My jet will be waiting,” I tell her, tugging off my T-shirt. I need to shower and change for the long work ahead of me. “Carlotta will be meeting you at the compound you’ll be staying. She will keep you company for the next few days.”
Falynn continues packing, folding her things and placing them inside the luggage. At first I glare in her direction, under the impression she’s going to start an argument by ignoring me further, but then she answers.
“What is it this time?” she asks. “Who is trying to kill you now?”
“That’s none of your concern. Finish packing.”
She’s dissatisfied with my answer. Her throat bobs due to a hard swallow. She’s holding back, censoring herself from what she really wants to say.
On second thought, it’s for the best. We can’t afford an argument right now. Her mouthing off will surely cause one. We’re both stubborn as fuck in that way.
I stalk into the bathroom and then stop short. She’s taken everything—her skincare products, her makeup, any other grooming tools—exceptfor her fertility medications. They sit on the bathroom counter untouched. I pick up the three bottles within the large palm of my hand and carry them out into the bedroom.
