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“Thankfully, Enzo got you out of there in the nick of time.” He crosses his arms. “Can you imagine delivering the dead daughter speech to Mom?”
Laughing, I fall back against my pillows. “Leave it to you to make a morbid quip.
“It’s better than allowing myself to consider the possibility of you not coming home.”
Shivering, I pull the quilt around my chin. “Ari Bianchi was like a superhero. She barely blinked an eye and—”
“I’m guessing she went through Mafia Princess school and was trained from an early age how to handle the enemy.”
“She was indeed.” A picture of the soldier’s blood spurting everywhere fills my mind. “And I’m pretty sure she graduated at the top of her class.”
“Note to self: always get snatched with a qualified cohort.”
“If I stay away from the tables, I may not have to worry about it.”
“True.” He tilts his head. “But you love the game.”
“Right now, I’m not sure if that’s enough.”
“Then it’s good we have a restaurant to run.” He pushes himself to his feet. “I’ve got some biscotti in the oven. Come down after you shower, and we can have coffee with Nonno and listen to him tell us how to run the laundromat.”
“Okay.” He hesitates at the door. “What?”
“I love you and wouldn’t have survived a world without you.”
“I love you too, Marco.” He nods and then slips out the door. “And all I have to do is find a way to live in a world without Enzo.”
***
An hour later, the doorbell rings, and I slowly move down the stairs and open it. “Oh.”
Enzo fills the doorway with his tall frame. A mixture of happiness and sadness washes over me as my heart skips a beat. “Enzo,” I breathe, unable to disguise the surprise in my voice. “What are you doing here?”
“Did you think I would rescue you and then disappear?”
“Well…no…but—”
“I have good news,” he replies, his mesmerizing eyes filled with mischief. “Is this a bad time?”
“Who’s there?”
I turn and see Nonno’s eyes filled with curiosity. A rare occurrence these days. “A friend stopped by.”
“Don’t keep them on the doorstep. Where’s your manners?”
I step aside reluctantly and lead him into the living room. “Nonno, this is Enzo.”
“Don’t be silly,cara mia. That is the Don. Leonardo Bianchi.” He extends a shaking hand. “I’m sorry not to stand, sir. My legs don’t work so well anymore.”
Enzo takes my grandfather’s hand and shakes it gently. Not missing a beat, he tips his head. “It’s nice to me…er, see you.”
“I hope the numbers are correct.” He looks toward the kitchen. “My grandson has been taking care of the laundromats. If Franco has any questions, we will make it right.”
I watch the confusion in Enzo’s eyes clear. He sits on the chair beside the couch. “The numbers are perfect. I just came by to see how you’re doing.”
Nonno waves his hand. “For an old man, I’m okay.”
“Good. You are loyal, and we appreciate that.”
