Page 69 of His Passerotta

“Why do you keep forgetting I’m not some princess from the ghetto?” I ask like I’m the one who should be annoyed. “The war between the mobs is all over the street, and everyone knows what happened when the Irish were pushed out.”

“Who exactly is telling you this?” he asks. “We only delivered our first attack this morning. There’s no way gossip is going around quickly enough to reach you when your phone’s been disconnected, you’ve apparently been at work a chunk of the day, and then were with Maksim this evening.”

I try to think up a feasible lie, but Anthony figures it out in only a couple seconds.

“Your brother,” he says, no question in his tone. “Is he a gangbanger or something? It’s hard to imagine this is something he picked up in the gossiping segment of his book club meeting.”

“No,” I say, firmly. Too firmly. “He isn’t a gangbanger, he just has access to common knowledge the same as I do. And it is common, Anthony. You obviously don’t understand how things work outside of your organization, but?—”

“Okay,” he says, taking me by my shoulders. “Calm down.”

“Don’t tell me to calm down.”

His lips twitch with an amused grin, like he thinks this is funny.

“What the fuck are you smiling about?”

His smile only grows. “You’re cute when you’re worked up.”

My face heats, but his hands cool me, starting at my knees before creeping up my legs.

“I’m not trying to call you a liar, passerotta. I was only confused.”

I keep my mouth shut, afraid if I open it, I’ll keep being defensive. I’m overcompensating for the lie, I can feel it. I just hope he can’t.

He sighs, but it doesn’t sound like it comes from disappointment. More like amusement. “Come on,” he says, taking my hands and helping me off the counter. “Let’s get out of here and get you some real food.”

“I’m not cranky,” I snap, raising my chin to him with a glare. It’s only a moment before I realize the ridiculousness of that statement and let the glare fall, replacing it with a smile matching his.

“Okay, maybe a little,” I say with a small laugh.

He takes my hand and kisses me before leading me out of the kitchen.

17

BAILEY

“Did you ever change the lock?” I ask as Anthony inserts his key into La Divina’s back door.

I don’t know why I ask the question. My corrupt eyes could never miss the flimsy piece of metal. I’m wired for seeking out these kinds of things.

“You really should,” I add before he can answer. “Anyone with a twenty-dollar lock pick could get in.”

With his lips stretched in a lopsided grin, he holds the door open for me. “I know this is going to sound strange considering you think I’m a cuddly teddy bear and all, but normal people would think twice before breaking into my building.”

I walk past into the back room and jump when the door slams behind me. We’re locked in total darkness for a moment before Anthony flips on the light.

“Normal people maybe.” I glance over my shoulder at him as his hand plants to my lower back, ushering me forward. “But what about the idiots?”

And the criminals currently wanting him dead.

“Like you?”

I dig my heels into the carpet and glare.

He laughs and pushes against my back. “Trust me, you’re the only person who’s ever been ballsy enough to break into my establishment and lived to tell about it. There isn’t much to steal here anyway. It’s just a restaurant.”

“With expensive meat.”

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