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“There’s a hit out on you.”
Ah. My shoulders drop an inch, because at least my big brother is not simply sick of me. I hate that’s where my mind goes, but I can’t help it. I may bluster for the outside world, but there’s a scared little girl deep inside me, and she is shrill as hell.
“Come on, there are always threats.” I smooth over my flash of panic with a confident tone. “If you overreact every time some asshole tries to kill me, your men will think you’ve gone soft.”
Besides, I can handle it. There are no less than six knives hidden around my suite, and always at least two on my person. No need to freak out.
“They stabbed Nico two weeks ago.”
I scoff, blowing my dark hair out of my face. “Well, it’s not like that’s hard. And he was barely hurt! It was a flesh wound.”
I already checked on Falasca. Such a baby.
“Raul said an inch to the left and Nico would be dead.” My ears go hot at the doctor’s name, but my features don’t flicker as Santo goes on: “There was a second incident tonight, and the attacker had your photo. Don’t brush this off, Allegra. I need you to be smart.”
Smart. Fine.
I can do that.
“First, these grounds are completely secure,” I begin, counting off my fingers, my foot bobbing with agitation against the coffee table. “If you’re really worried, I can stay home for a few days. Second, if you saw that photo then Nico clearly dealt with the attacker, and third, I’malwayson someone’s hit list, as you well know. That’s the De Rossi guarantee.”
Santo understands that better than anyone, so why is he so freaking rattled?
A maid bustles past the open suite door and we both pause. My brother strolls over and closes the door with asnick.
That reminds me.
“You know, one day you’re going to burst in here without knocking and regret your life choices.” It’s easier to grumble, shuffling over to make room on the sofa, rather than face the dread pooling in my stomach. Something’s wrong.
The cushions sink as Santo sits beside me. Not touching—we are not a cuddly family—but close enough that I can feel his warmth. Draw some comfort.
“If that happens, I’ll burn the mansion down,” Santo says pleasantly.
Ha. Liar.
“I’m a grown woman, asshole.”
“You’re my baby sister.” Santo’s grin is sharp. “That comes with privileges.”
“Like no dating life?”
“Like my concern.”
Bullshit. Such bullshit. Not that he cares about me, I mean, but that Santo would ever burn down his precious mansion. Too many priceless artworks. This volley is comforting, though.
“It’s the holidays, Santo.” My plea goes unsaid.Don’t send me away. This is the only time of year we’re a half-normal family.
Santo clears his throat, and as he turns away, there’s a flash of guilt in his pale eyes. “You’ll be fine, Allegra. Raul will be with you.”
…Raul?
My whole body flushes hot, misery clamping around my throat. My heart slams against my rib cage, more bruised with each thump, and I can’t do this. I can’t.
“I’ll go with Nico,” I rasp, fighting a whole new battle now. Sure, I’ll hide out in a safe house for a few weeks if Santo really wants me to, but not with the doctor. Anyone but him.
“Nico is distracted; his focus would be split. He brought a woman here tonight.”
A woman? Since when? I blink hard, yanking my brain back on task, because we can gossip about Falasca’s love life once we’ve safely ruled out Raul.
