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“Alright, I’m done. See now, was that so hard?” I ask, still seething. “Let’s go.”
I’m in the back of a black sedan with a fully equipped leather interior when it hits me.
I haven’t been to Bella Notte lately.
Every time I think of going, Ricco has an excuse.
Is that on purpose?
I’ve neglected the reason why I wanted to go to Bella Notte to begin with, swept off my feet by Ricco’s intensity and passion.
Who am I?
What have I done?
“Who came into that shop?” I ask. No one answers me.
“Hello?”
The guy driving looks in the rearview mirror. “We don’t know. We were only sent to get you.”
“Who sent you?” I ask, even though I know it was Sergio.
“Ricco, ma’am.”
My heartbeat races. I check my phone. No messages from Ricco.
I send him a text.
I was told you were the one having me come to Bella Notte. I haven’t even seen you or heard from you. Where are you?
There’s no response.
We pull up to an area of Bella Notte I haven’t seen before, a back parking lot. I scan it and see Ricco’s car in the back corner. He’s here but hasn’t called me? What the hell?
Just to soothe my fraught nerves, I pull up the preschool app again and watch Emmy. She’s laughing with one of her classmates over something behind the camera. I sigh. She’s alright.
The door to the car flies open and I get my answer. Ricco’s here, alright, and he’s pissed.
Without a word, he reaches for me and pulls me out. Stands me in front of him and looks me over, as if he’s looking for bruises or a cut or something.
“Ricco, I—”
His mouth crashes on mine with a ferocity that takes my breath away. I almost push him away, but when his lips touch mine, I can feel his nervous energy, his nerves as fraught as mine. I let him kiss me. I sigh. I’m dimly aware of doors being shut and opened and Ricco lifting me up.
This time, I don’t protest.
My legs straddle his waist, and he deepens the kiss. Tears spring to my eyes at the nearness of him, the certainty of him, the relief that floods every inch of me like light breaking through clouds and illuminating everything in its path.
Finally, he pulls away. “You’re alright,” he breathes. “And Emmy?”
My heart breaks a little that he immediately asks about my daughter.
“She’s fine. What happened?”
“We don’t know yet. Let’s get you inside.”
He slides me down his body and grabs me by the hand.
“I made them wait, Ricco. I had to check on Emmy.”
“I know.”
How does he know?
The back door to Bella Notte is wide open and a few people I don’t know are behind the open door.
“Dani, you remember my brothers, Sergio and Timeo.” Today, Sergio looks somehow both younger and older than Ricco—younger physically, but there’s a weariness to his eyes that makes me wonder. Timeo grins and winks at me.
“Get her ass in here and we’ll give her a proper welcome.”
Turns out “proper welcome” involves stiff shots of Sambuca and a plate of pastries. I throw back a shot, let out a breath, then sit back and help myself to a frosted cookie.
My stomach growls.
“God, I’m starving,” I mutter. I eat the cookie and reach for a second.
“Have you eaten today?” Ricco asks.
I shrug. “Protein bar…got a salad. Bag of chips, and a leftover packet of animal crackers. Maybe a banana? Yeah. I get hungry when I’m stressed.”
Ricco crosses his arms over his chest. “You got someone to pick up Emmy?’
“Jason’s getting her.”
“Good. We’re eating dinner out tonight.”
I can tell he’s not in the mood for a diplomatic conversation about damn near anything right now. I take a big bite out of a chocolate chip cookie. “Yes, sir,” I say with a bit of an edge to my voice because hello, he might be stressed but so am I and I’m not in the mood to be bossed around.
Ricco narrows his eyes at me. I give him a little wink and he shakes his head.
Sergio sits across from me and watches this all go down with a neutral expression. I would not want to play poker with that guy. He’s mastered that damn poker face. Timeo snickers into a bottle of beer.
“Feisty. I like it.”
Oh, he hasn’t seen anything yet.
“Now that I’ve satisfied my need for sugar and alcohol, can someone fill me in?”
The brothers all share a look.
Ricco opens a tablet and places it in front of me. “Here. These are the cameras I’ve had stationed at your studio.”
I blink as the screen comes on and video footage of my studio comes into view.
“You… put surveillance cameras in my studio?” I ask. I shove my hands onto my lap because they’re a little shaky.
He doesn’t answer the question but flips to earlier footage. “Here. This is when he entered. Timeo, you got that software ready?”
