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Allegra ismine.
We pass a comfortable evening together, eating a linguini dish my mother taught me to cook as a boy and flushing when we each catch the other staring. It’s a sweet kind of torture, being this close and all alone and knowing that wewanteach other, damn it, but being held back by my own holier-than-thou rules.
Allegra keeps shifting on the sofa beside me as we watch a Christmas movie, her clothes rustling, impatient sighs leaving her lips. She’s wound tight, and so am I.
Jesus. We’ve only shared one kiss, and already we’re both losing our minds.
“I’d better turn in.” I launch to my feet as soon as the movie ends, credits scrolling on the screen. Can’t look at Allegra. If I do, I might crash to my knees and shove my face in her lap. “I, ah. It’s—goodnight.”
“Night, doc.” When I risk a glance, Allegra looks way too serene. My nerves prickle.
She’s planning something.
“I’ll see you in the morning,” I grate out.
Her smile curves up, and fuck. I’m already harder than granite.
* * *
“Update.” Santo is brisk in my ear, his tone clipped. “Nico’swomanhas been badgering me to play checkers all evening, so you’d better have some fucking good news.”
I raise my eyebrows at the bedroom wall. It’s late at last, the longest evening in existence finally bleeding into the dead of night, and if I twitched those curtains aside, I’d see a blanket of stars glittering above suburbia.
Leah wants to play board games with the mob boss? Does she have a death wish? Santo isnota graceful loser.
“We, uh.” I shake my head, trying to dislodge the image of Santo playing checkers from my brain. “It went well. No trouble at the Christmas tree farm, and Allegra seemed happy.”
Santo exhales. “Good. Keep her there a while longer,” he says, and I tug at my collar, suddenly too hot, because the fact that Allegra doesn’t have all the information—it’s starting to feel like a lie. “We have a new lead. Have you ever heard of Governor Edwards?”
“Yes.” A relatively new player on the scene, but ambitious. Cold. But nothing to do with us at this juncture, and the governor would be all kinds of unwise to rile the De Rossi boss without provocation. “Why are you looking into him?”
Santo hums. “Call it a hunch.”
Okay. Our boss gets plenty of uncanny hunches, his superhuman brain working overtime to connect dots that no one else can see. So if he thinks something is off with Governor Edwards, the man is probably fishier than the harbor.
Not my main focus right now.
Pinching the bridge of my nose, I say it in a rush: “I’m going to tell Allegra the truth. That there were other hits put out, not just on her. She’d… she’d want to know.”
Silence.
Long, cold silence.
“My sister is very willful, Raul.” When Santo speaks quietly, his tone extra soft—that’s our cue to hide under the nearest table. “Did you not hear my instruction a moment ago? I want you to keep her there, not chase her back home. Or have you forgotten this little trip was your idea?”
I screw one eye shut. “Even so. She deserves to know.”
Santo snarls. “No, Raul.”
“I’m going to tell her tomorrow. I’m sorry, but it’s—it’s done.”
“You’ve touched her, haven’t you?” His voice is low. Deadly. Shaking with anger. “Allegra is—”
“A grown woman.” Jesus Christ, why am I confirming his suspicions? I’ll be lucky to live through the night. But… I told her I was in this, and nothing stays secret from the De Rossi boss for long. “She’s not a kid anymore, alright? She can make her own decisions.”
Santo curses so loudly I wince, holding the phone away from my ear. When I listen again, he’s still ranting.
“—dare to show your face again, I will tear it off with myteeth—”
