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He smiles at me and inclines his head. “You look stunning, Lucia. As I knew you would. But I think you’re missing something…”
“I didn’t really have the opportunity to prepare,” I say with a brittle smile. “This was all quite last minute.”
Victor snorts and nods. “How remiss of me. Please, sit down. Get comfortable. I’ve already ordered the wine, and some appetizers should be on their way.”
I want to tell him to eat the appetizers on his own, but Angelo is already guiding me to one of the empty chairs, the one next to Saint. He takes the other one next to me, which leaves me sitting across from Victor. I’m not sure if I appreciate the extra distance to him, or if I’m annoyed that I have the best view of him.
I settle into my seat, brushing at my hair and tucking it back behind my ear, wishing I’d have had time to pull it back. But all of this was so last second that I’m reeling, going from second to second instead of having time to prepare myself for what might be coming next.
I don’t think for a moment that that’s an accident.
“So what am I missing?” I ask Victor, though I pick up the menu and glance down at it instead of meeting his gaze.
“Accessories, of course.” Victor reaches below the table—and sits back up with a small gift bag in his hand. He holds it out to me. “From all of us.”
I set the menu down and take the bag from him, eyeing him suspiciously before I look down at its contents. On top are three short-stemmed roses, the thorns still in place, and I recognize them as coming from Angelo’s garden.
“Free of aphids, I hope?” I tell him, dryly, as I carefully set them down next to my plate.
Angelo laughs. “Yep. Fresh cuttings, for you. Although I haven’t been able to tend to the roses for a few weeks, so they aren’t quite as nice as I would have liked. I had to instruct Saint on how to cut them properly.”
“Told him to leave the thorns on, too, did you?” I ask, my eyes meeting Angelo’s in a sudden heated look. I don’t know why it’s so intriguing to me that he might’ve left them on purpose; it just seems like such anAngelothing to do, to lace his gift with something dangerous.
“I like beautiful things that can hurt you,” Angelo answers, reaching out to rub my bare shoulder. “It’s definitely more fun with a few scratches. More worthwhile.”
I reach into the gift bag again, coming out with two small jewelry boxes. One is long and thin, while the other is a more standard shape.
I open the longer one first, where a silver necklace dotted with rubies glints in the light. The smaller box has matching dangling earrings, and they’re all of such exquisite craftsmanship that I’m momentarily taken aback. I know Victor spares no expense, but these had to be pricey.
“Are you trying to buy me?” I ask, even as I touch the necklace.
“I’d be very unobservant if I believed you could be bought,” Victor says, his eyes still on me. “No, love, I simply saw this set and thought of you, and how well it would match the dress.”
“This dress?” I ask, surprised. It doesn’t seem like it goes with the black dress I’m wearing, and he of all people would know that.
“The white one,” he replies, unperturbed.
The only one of the three I’d brought home that escaped Pavone’s touch unscathed, because it really had been perfect for me. I don’t like the reminder, but at the same time, I’m a little more affected than I care to admit by the gesture.
I close the boxes, looking down at the bag. There’s another small box, unlabeled, and I open it to see small, thin pieces of plastic. I arch a brow, looking at Saint.
“You’ll have to wait for my gift to you,” he says earnestly. “But put those around the house where you can hear Pavone talking, and I promise it’ll be worth it.”
Listening devices. He’s suggesting I bug my own home. Anything incriminating that happens there… including what Pavone does to me. I want to help them take down Pavone with whatever means necessary, but I don’t know that I want them to hear me with Pavone.
“What’s the range on these?” I ask, trying to figure out where I can hide them so nobody will notice.
“About thirty feet. I’d suggest in the office, or wherever he discusses things with Rossi,” Saint says. He reaches out for my hand and lifts it up to kiss the back of it. “You’re going to love the end results.”
I blink hard, and I don’t know why I’m suddenly fighting back a swell of emotion. Despite everything, the three of them are thinking of me. I can’t even say they gave me the gifts for selfish reasons, because Victor probably won’t even get to see me wearing the jewelry, and Angelo’s flowers will wilt before long.
I carefully put all the gifts back into the bag. “Thank you,” I mumble, pushing a stray strand of hair out of my face. “Um, why don’t we have the wine? Since Angelo prevented me from enjoying my glass earlier.”
As though he’d been waiting for a break in our conversation, a waiter discreetly comes up from beside us, offering out the bottle of wine. He opens it and carefully pours four glasses. I still haven’t had a chance to look at the menu beyond my first precursory glance, but before I can ask for more time, Victor orders for me.
I frown at him, but the duck dish he ordered sounds good enough.
When the waiter retreats again, I tell Victor, “That was awfully presumptuous of you.”
