Page 104 of Capo

Luciano is silent and I wince. Maybe he’s just trying to be nice and I’m stomping all over it?

“I take care of what’s mine. Have a pleasant rest of the day, Chloe. Tonight, you fly home.”

“I’m—” ...sorry, I mean to say, but he’s disconnected.

The call takes some of the joy away. I feel like shit for being a dick.

I take in my appearance in the mirror when they do my hair and makeup. The pretty blonde lady with the sad eyes who stares back at me is a stranger, yet another incarnation. Am I Christine? Chloe? What do I call this new person?

Getting a wardrobe makes me feel more like myself again. It’s a little more elegant than what I’m used to. I’m more of a leather and lace girl, and these clothes are low key casual and still with that exclusive feel to them. I can get used to this. Another girl comes with lacy underwear. I also get two pairs of shoes and a purse. Since I still have the phone, apparently it was for me, I plop it in the purse and for the first time in a long, long while I feel like something akin to human again.

I never get to see Rome. In the early evening, I’m whisked away to the airport. The same driver as before gives me a once over, whistles and exclaims, “Bella!” My cheeks heat up. I’m not used to the attention anymore. Not like this. Ever since my late teens, when I used my looks to deceive, I’ve kept my head down, worked, and tried to just live, tried to find me. Crashing into Luciano set that back ten years. Or maybe it fast forwarded it?

It’s still evening when I set foot on American soil again. I grab my purse, wave to the pilots whom I feel I’ve almost become friends with after all these hours together and me being utterly bored, then walk down the stairs.

There’s a car. A large black Mercedes. In front of it stands a tall, dark man, dressed in a dark gray suit and a black coat that hangs open. He is absolutely still, one hand resting loosely over the other. My heart jumps to my throat.

That’s no driver.

Luciano Salvatore is absolutely fucking beautiful, and when he pulls me into his embrace, leans his chin on my head and sighs, there’s a new seriousness in him I never saw before. I inhale deeply, reveling in the well-known scent of his cologne.

“Hi,” I whisper.

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