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Why must he question everything?
Papà lit a cigarette and watched me, something unsaid written across his face. “Met your…”
“Marcella.” I said her name through gritted teeth. He knew her name.
“Your Marcella.” The disdain in his tone only pissed me off further. “Her beauty was unexpected.”
What the fuck was that supposed to mean? Just because her papà worked for us, that meant she was not supposed to be as incredibly fucking gorgeous as she was?
I sighed. “Where are you going with this?”
I was tired. We had been questioning the damn Russian all night. I didn’t even know what time it was. Marcella had no idea I wasn’t home. That wasn’t fair to her.
Papà smiled slowly, an action that was far more menacing than it should have been. “I should have known you would pick someone so…weak. Easy to bend. Control.”
“Tread carefully.”
“Tread carefully?” He barked a single laugh. “Is that supposed to be a threat? Should I be afraid, figlio?”
Before I could reply and tell him that he should, Papà continued.
“You will do best to learn not to threaten me, Matteo. Bring that fucking eyeball to the location we discussed.”
With a wave of his hand, Papà dismissed me, and I knew better than to challenge him in that moment.
A strange sound from deep within my home set me on edge as I entered from the garage. I grabbed my gun from its holster and flicked the safety off, quietly kicking out of my shoes. I didn’t need whoever was in my home to hear my footsteps.
Two of my men rose to action at the sight of me with my gun out and flanked me on either side. They had been assigned to Marcella. What the hell were they doing downstairs?
Checking the kitchen and passing through the dining room, we entered the den with guns raised and pointed at a sleeping Marcella on the couch.
“Lower your fucking weapons,” I hissed and turned to glare at them, uncocking my gun.
I slipped it back in my holster and glanced at the television that sat above the fireplace. I rarely used it, but I was glad to see Marcella out of her room.
She had been watching an action movie before she had fallen asleep. The explosions of the fight scene had been what I’d heard when I entered my home.
Marcella was curled against the edge of the couch using the armrest as a pillow. What was I supposed to do? Get a blanket for her? Carry her upstairs to her room?
I couldn’t trust myself to do the second one. I’d bring her straight to my room…
I carefully sat next to her, far closer than I should have. A strange thundering of my heart made my chest ache, desperate to reach out and touch her.
Marcella stirred, but she didn’t open her eyes. “Your house is cold.”
Her words were spoken so softly that I leaned in, resting my hand on the back of the couch. “Hmm?”
She stretched, slipping her right leg across my lap. “It’s cold.”
“Would you like me to get you a blanket?”
Marcella nodded. “I’m watching a movie.”
I chuckled. “Oh, are you?”
I glanced over my shoulder and mouthed for Lombardo to get me a blanket, pointing at the guest hallway. I wasn’t getting up, especially not when she adjusted further until her ass pressed against my leg.
“What’s the movie about?” I prodded and gently tugged the pillow from behind her back, placing it at the other end of the couch.
