Page 55 of Rescued By the Mafia

“That’s actually not a bad plan,” Romeo said.

The growl escaped him before he could stop it, and only Iris’s weight on his lap kept Dante in his seat. “It’s a fucking terrible plan.”

“Dante—”

“I’m just saying,” Romeo continued, gesturing as he talked, “we never actually ruled out a connection between Bishop and the Ink Blots after two of our guys were taken from in front of Powell’s house, right? So there’s an obscure possibility Bishop has a way of knowing your territory was hit and some of your men—maybe even men close to your woman—took a bullet or three. If Carlo’s seen with an injury, that covers for that. And Bishop’s the kind of asshole who won’t give Iris enough credit for being smart enough not to put herself in harm’s way.”

Iris bobbed her head, her eyes pleading. “I know it’s imperfect, but I really think it could work.”

“Imperfect?” Dante forced down the agitation darkening his voice and lifted her from his lap, setting her on the desk in order to free his hands to cup her face. “All that fucker has to do is show up and pull the trigger and you’re fucking dead. You’re damn right it’s imperfect. We’re closing the net on him. Just be a little more patient—”

Iris grabbed hold of his shirt collar and yanked him down for a firm, but nonetheless surprising, kiss. She pushed at his lips until his brain finally shut up and he took control, winding his arms around her and sweeping his tongue into her mouth.

Romeo coughed pointedly.

Dante broke the kiss and let his hands resettle on her hips. “I can’t have you getting hurt, Snapdragon.”

She smiled, her expression pure warmth and affection, and left her fingers curled into his shirt. “I’m not trying to. It’s just … he’s made a point of going after everyone who’s had a presence in my life since I came to Newark. But my circle was really pretty small until I met you, so everyone that’s left for him to choose from … is someone who’s suffering will also hurt you in some way. And I don’t want that, either.”

Dante pulled in a breath.

“Damn,” Romeo said. “You know, big brother, if you don’t mar—”

“If you finish that sentence, Romeo, I’ll fucking shoot you.”

Romeo snickered. “So violent today.” He stood and rolled his neck. “Well, if the major excitement’s done for the day, I’m gonna go home, clean up, maybe watch some Disney with my daughter.”

Iris blinked, turning her attention toward Romeo. “I forgot you have a daughter.”

Dante bit back a sigh. “Before you settle in for all that, put together some names for tomorrow.” Romeo and Iris both looked back at him. He met Iris’s stare. “If we’re doing this, we try it once, and you don’t step out of Carlo’s reach while you’re there. I’ll be out of sight, but I’ll be nearby. That’s the only way it works.”

“Fine, fine, I’ll make a list while Lucia agonizes between watching Frozen for the one hundredth time and or trying whichever ‘old one’ I pick out.” Romeo waved. “See you tonight.”

Iris smoothed her hands over his shirt. “You’re really willing to try my idea?”

Dante stroked his thumb across her chin. “I still hate it,” he said honestly. “But I recognize the difference between a calculated risk and a foolish one. Hating an idea isn’t the same as thinking it’s foolish.” He leaned in and brushed a chaste kiss over her lips. “I simply can’t stand the idea of you hurting again. That’s where I draw the line. You need to understand that.”

She beamed at him as if he’d just said the most wonderful thing.

Iris was horrendously nervous. She imagined that was partly due to the looming plan that put her dangling out front-and-center like some kind of redheaded lure, but that plan was hours away. The forefront of her nerves was undoubtedly due to the big family dinner party her future mother-in-law was throwing. She’d already met her future mother-in-law. She’d already met her future brothers-in-law. Was she so worried about socializing with them?

Yes. Absolutely. She was mildly terrified and trying desperately not to panic.

When was the last time she’d been to anything deserving of the title ‘dinner party’?

She knew the answer, actually, and it was not a pleasant memory. She’d been too quiet and withdrawn at the table, somehow also smiled one too many times at another male, and had disrespected the woman who’d invited them by not eating most of her meal. That was how Paul had explained it, at least, in between swings. The truth was he hated letting her out to socialize. So, somehow, the mere fact that not everyone had forgotten she existed meant she deserved to be punished.

Still, nerves or no, it didn’t escape Iris’s notice that they were barely in the car for three minutes. Iris looked over at Dante as the SUV pulled to a stop, wondering if perhaps they’d made a detour, and he smiled at her.

“Mother lives two streets over. Mikey’s a street away from us in the other direction, and Romeo lives around the corner from Mother at the end of the cul-de-sac.” Dante scooped up her hand and brought it to his lips. “I’ll show you the family map later so you get the full picture.”

She wanted to ask if that meant there were more, but it was time to exit the vehicle. And, really, she had to assume there were. She already knew Dante owned the properties on either side of the mansion-like home where they lived—he described one as the staff house and one as the security house. Did every De Salvo have a setup like that?

They’d pulled up in the classically circular drive, Dante’s guard holding the door for them while Carlo remained in the car in order to park it elsewhere, so she couldn’t exactly turn to look. She shouldn’t, for that matter. It wasn’t crucial. Her mind had just latched on to the next thing that had caught its attention and she was obsessing.

Dante settled a hand at the small of back and lowered his mouth to her ear. “Relax, Snapdragon. I’m right here with you.”

Iris released a breath and gave a small nod. It was so much easier to breathe when he was touching her.

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