Page 84 of Broken Captive

Alina doubted Luka and Antonio would ever be friends.

Nera laughed as she watched him leave. She was rarely alone in the kitchen. Her bodyguard, Tommaso, had a deep, contagious chuckle, too, where he rested against a counter.

“He’s gone off to flirt again,” he said.

Nera shook her head as she glanced at Alina. “Don’t worry. It’s not Luka that Antonio wants to flirt with.”

Alina wasn’t worried at all. She couldn’t imagine Luka being with anyone besides her.

She’d been surprised when it had been Antonio that Luka had talked to about her art. Some of her paintings were now displayed in a gallery for sale, the ones of random people in the park she’d started walking to for exercise. None of anyone in the Mafia.

The gallery had called her the other day because someone had asked if she took commissions to paint portraits. She was still considering it.

When Alina asked Luka why he’d discussed her art with Antonio, whom she still didn’t like because of the way he treated Luka, he’d quietly admitted that Antonio could accomplish anything. She’d realized he admired the Di Salvo almost as much as Giovanni.

It really was too bad that Antonio would never forgive him for his past.

Nera left to join the meeting not long after Alina arrived. She was as much a part of the Di Salvos’ business as Giovanni himself, even if her stomach had started to swell more noticeably with the child she was carrying.

Alina went down to the range in the meantime. Her accuracy had improved with both the revolver and the small automatic Vespa had given her.

When she returned to the main floor, she spotted Vespa, who grimaced at her and turned as if she would bolt.

“Vespa, wait!” Alina called, ready to chase after her.

“Ah, hell,” Vespa muttered, but she shoved her hands into her jacket pockets as she waited. “I heard all about it, okay? From the Di Salvos, especially that damn Antonio, and from Montrell. I almost got you killed, and I’m sorry.”

Alina hurried up to the tall enforcer and threw her arms around her. “Thank you,” she said into the woman’s shoulder.

“What? What is this!” Vespa shouted, trying to wriggle out of her hold.

Montrell’s laugh was louder than everyone else’s. “It’s called a hug, Vespa.”

Vespa finally got ahold of Alina’s arms and shoved her away. “Well, help me stop it already!” She glared down at Alina. “I thought you weren’t a toucher.”

“That’s Luka. But if you hate it, I won’t do it ever again.” Alina studied the woman who was no longer looking at her, but who wasn’t saying she hated it either. She smiled as she repeated what she’d wanted to say for a while. “Thank you. I think Luka would be dead if I hadn’t gone after him, and he’s my whole world.”

She bent to her ankle, beginning to pull the Velcro free. “I’ve been meaning to return this to you,” she said over the sound.

Vespa dropped to one leg, smoothing the Velcro down again. “Keep it. I’m already used to my new one.” Her lips spread in a crooked half smile. “That one’s yours now. Same as the man you rescued.” She reached out, ruffling Alina’s hair before standing and darting away.

Luka appeared at Alina’s side, his hand held down to help her up. “I am,” he murmured near her ear. “Yours.”

Alina really liked the sound of that.

Antonio looked away from Vespa’s retreating figure. “Hey,” he called to Luka, “you’re not leaving until you show me how you got in.”

Luka’s silky glove slid along Alina’s fingers before he turned away. Antonio was doing all the talking like usual. Luka would show him, and say just enough, because Giovanni had asked him to. Giovanni was still important to him.

Alina had gotten used to the Di Salvos, and they were important to her, too, but they weren’t family. That was Luka.

Luka made her feel like she was no longer alone.

He returned to her like she knew he would, and he held out his hand as he murmured, “Home?”

Alina took his hand.

She stepped closer, raising her face to his, and Luka’s kiss met her halfway, even in front of a bunch of Di Salvos. It was a soft press of lips, like most of their kisses, which she’d begun to lose count of. Her chest squeezed with every one. Comfort filled her as his hand shifted, encircling her wrist. He had hands that killed, but with her, they were always so gentle.

Just like before, Alina wanted most to live. But now, Luka’s life was just as important to her as her own. As he tugged her forward, she fell into step beside him. Anywhere with Luka was where she belonged.

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