Page 11 of Finding Love

When I didn’t reply, she started getting antsy and making calls. The last text I sent her talks about having dinner together after I return from vacation. So that part of Luca’s story is true, as well. We went away together. I was planning on meeting with my parents afterward.

In other words, he’s telling me the truth. I don’t know whether that’s a comfort or not. I’ve completely lost sight of who I am any more, and the more I think about it, the worse my head hurts.

After stripping down to my underwear, I find one of my oversized T-shirts in the dresser and pull it on. I really lived here. Why, dammit? I’m no closer to understanding by the time I pull back the comforter and slide under. The bed is worlds beyond what I slept on in the hospital, and immediately, my tired muscles begin to relax.

Tomorrow, I’ll do more digging around if I feel up to it and maybe see if I can bring back any memories.

The sooner I get them back, the better.

5

LUCA

A hand landing heavily on my shoulder jars me awake. I didn’t realize I had drifted off to sleep. “Sorry,” Niccolo grunts out, backing away with his hands in the air. “I didn’t know you were asleep.”

“Neither did I.” I sit up straighter on the leather sofa and look around my father’s study. We’re the only two people here. “I thought we were having a meeting.”

My cousin looks up and down. “We are. Have you been waiting here long?”

A glance at my phone tells me I haven’t. It hasn’t been more than a few minutes since I came in and sat. That was all it took for me to fall asleep and start dreaming. What a relief Nico came in when he did because it was a familiar nightmare I would rather not repeat—sprinting down that fluorescent-lit hall, passing one identical door after another before reaching the room where Emilia was left. Sometimes, the hall never ends, and I can’t get her, no matter how hard I run. Other times, I find her, but it’s too late. She’s already gone.

Nico watches me, puzzled and a little concerned. “Tell me you got some sleep last night, man. She’s back, she’s safe.” He drops beside me before trying to stifle a yawn and failing.

“She’s not safe until he’s out of the picture,” I snap.

He groans before scrubbing his hands over his face. “We’re doing everything we can. I know it’s taking too long.”

“Too fucking long. Don’t get me wrong. I know you’re looking under every rock to find that son of a bitch.” I nudge him with my elbow and jerk my chin when he looks my way. “He’s vermin, and vermin know how to hide.”

Shuffling footfalls accompany my father’s appearance. At least one of us looks like he slept last night. He managed to shave, too, unlike me. “I understand everything went according to plan,” Papa begins, not bothering with the formalities of a greeting.

“Everything went fine,” I assure him. “Not so much as a hint of trouble.” Aside from the fact that I can barely touch my woman without her recoiling. Not to mention a night spent fighting the urge to go down to the house and at least sleep on the sofa. Anything, so long as it means being closer to her.

“I understand she’ll stay on her own at the house.” My father eyes me warily as he lowers himself into the chair behind the desk. “She is on the same page as you when it comes to what she can and can’t share with others?”

Dante’s voice rings out behind me before I have a chance to reply. “I don’t think she should have her phone yet,” he reminds us.

“So fucking original, Dante,” I snap, folding my arms and turning to face my brother.

“Careful.” He tucks his phone into his pocket before mimicking my stance.

“What’s this bullshit?” Papa waves a hand back and forth between us. “You were behaving yourselves for a while there. Do me a favor and don’t start with this childish fuckery again. We have business to discuss before we call the cop.” He rarely refers to Craig by his first name. Dirty cop or not, he’s currently our best chance at finding Alessandro and ending his miserable life.

“How are Paul and Rob doing?” I ask my father, referring to two of the men who were critically injured during a shootout with a group of Vitali associates. They crossed paths outside a restaurant in Hell’s Kitchen, and the next thing you know, they landed both families in the past week’s news cycle.

He groans before rubbing his temples. “Dante?”

Dante blows out a sigh. “Paul is still comatose, and the doctors are starting to talk about doing those tests they run to see if a person’s brain is firing anymore.”

“Christ,” Nico mutters.

“But Rob seems like he’ll pull through,” Dante continues. “He lost his spleen, and he’s always going to walk with a limp thanks to a bullet he took to the femur, but he got lucky. Not like Chris and Marco.” There’s regret in his voice, even if the idiots brought it on themselves if it’s true they fired first.

“Stupid, headstrong punks,” Papa mutters. “The hell did they think they were doing? Starting shit out in public, civilians all around, not to mention all the blowback. Like we needed the family’s name in the news for days on end.”

He snaps his fingers, signaling for Dante to pay attention. “I want arrangements sent to the funerals on behalf of the family. And send something to Paul’s mother. She was always a nice lady. Our mamas were good friends. There was a time they imagined making a match with us, joining our families.” He snorts softly, his gaze unfocused before he swivels in his chair to gaze out the window.

Fuck me. I shoot a look at my brother, and for once, he seems to notice what I’ve known for a while. There’s something wrong with Papa. He’s not who he used to be. He wouldn’t trail off in the middle of a meeting and lose track of himself. No fucking way. This, on top of his worsening fatigue and the collapse he suffered one day a few weeks ago, I’m more certain than ever he’s hiding something from us.

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