Page 27 of Assistant to the Mafia

“You were right about the apartment,” Cristiano said before Romeo could ask the question. “It was pretty thrashed. Between what her attackers destroyed and what got hit in the gunfire when our guys took them out, she’s got a lot she’ll be looking at replacing.”

Romeo cursed under his breath. He was less looking forward to explaining that than he had been the truth of what he did.

“I got her a good selection of clothes, though,” Felicity offered. “Even some stuff for work since she seems to be such a workhorse. She should have enough now to at least last a couple of weeks, depending on how she manages her laundry.”

Romeo unlocked his jaw and looked across the table at his newest in-law. “Thank you, Felicity. I appreciate you doing that.” Asking someone to take stock of the front of the apartment was one thing, but he couldn’t bring himself to let another man dig through Grace’s wardrobe. He was grateful his brother had suggested this alternative, and more grateful Cris hadn’t strangled him for asking.

“There is one other thing,” Cristiano said. “We may still have a problem. Whoever did the cleanup didn’t do their best work.”

“Elaborate,” Dante said, voice darkening.

Cristiano pulled out his phone, opened to his desired screen, and slid it toward the center of the table. “Bullet holes,” he replied. “I only found one in the apartment, lodged in the wood of the kitchen cabinet. The bulk of the issue is the lobby.”

Romeo grabbed the phone and stood, moving to stand behind Dante and simply look over his brother’s shoulder. He imagined neither of them liked what they saw. It was the lobby, as Cris had indicated, and lacking any of the blood Romeo remembered from the night before. But a spattering of bullet holes dotted the wall and another, more noticeable, trail curved over the base of the front desk. He remembered seeing all of this same damage the previous night. And he remembered thinking the cleaning crew was going to have a bitch of a job. But they should have done better.

“Goddammit,” Dante growled. He shoved the phone back toward Cris.

Romeo took the cue to reclaim his seat. “Any blood?”

“Not that I found.”

Dante closed his fist on the table. “Do you know which crew it was?”

Romeo thought back to when he’d left that building. He had seen the cleaners show up to the scene, come to think of it. “Looked like Delta.”

Dante growled low in his throat and pushed to his feet, scooping up his phone as he moved. “Then I know my next stop. Cris, let me know what you learn. In particular anything pertaining to the name Filip Tracey.”

Cristiano nodded, moving himself and Felicity to their feet as well. The lovebirds practically moved in step with each other. It was sweet in that nauseating pit-of-your-stomach way.

Dante turned one more look his way. “You’ve got your wish, brother. Don’t fuck it up.”

Romeo grunted, biting back words he would probably regret, and watched from the table as his family took their leave. Finally. He loved his brothers, and he’d quickly warmed up to their wives, but this was not a day when he wanted a house full of guests.

His gaze flicked to the ceiling, not that he could see through it or that the room overhead aligned with where he suspected she’d gone, and something in his chest tightened. It had only been a few minutes. She surely needed more time to think things over and process her emotional response. To decide her emotional response.

Romeo grabbed up the dishes, stalked to the kitchen, and dumped everything in the sink for later. Then he snatched Grace’s phone off the table, muted it, and made his way into the sitting room. He was a little more careful with the bags Cris had brought, particularly the one apparently containing her work suits, and finally he made his way up the stairs. He had his phone, and though he’d prefer not to be disturbed for the rest of the day, he knew damn well he needed to leave it on.

Fucking egged, really? Was it possible the Ink Blots had hired some random woman just to distract him? He pushed the thought to the back of his mind. No one had been hurt. Mikey’s team would scrutinize every detail of relevant footage. They would do the same with all the footage they’d gathered from Grace’s apartment, and if or when anything critical was found, someone would call him.

Until then, he had a woman who needed his undivided attention.

nine

Please

He found her in the bedroom, both exactly where he expected and not at all the way he wanted.

Grace was sitting with her back against the headboard, curled into a ball, with her face buried in a pillow. The way his clothes swallowed her up only made her look smaller and more fragile.

Romeo eased the door shut, flicked the lock, and strode across the room to the large closet. He set down the duffel, hooked the clothes bag to a hanging bar, and left the items there for later. She hadn’t even lifted her head, her shoulders sporadically shaking with what may well have been tears. The phones went side-by-side on the nearest table, he crouched to remove his shoes, ripped both layers of his shirts off, and crawled onto the bed beside her.

Still, Grace didn’t acknowledge him.

So Romeo grabbed hold of her leg and hauled her body down the bed, moving an arm to be sure she didn’t crack her head on the headboard when she naturally reared back. She let loose a startled yelp, her arms flailing, and he ducked around one in order to lean over her until they were chest-to-chest and face-to-face. The tear stains on her cheeks sparked an anger in him he wasn’t prepared for, an anger with himself, an anger with the world that had put her in the position she was in.

“Wh-what the hell was that?” Her question was breathless and lacked the intensity she’d probably been going for.

“Ignoring a problem doesn’t make it go away, angel.” He grabbed both her arms and pinned them above her head, threading his fingers with hers. The bright blush that built on her cheeks and burned down her neck was entirely worth it. “It’s okay to be mad. It’s okay to be scared. It’s okay to have questions.” He angled his head and pressed a kiss to her unblemished cheek, letting his tongue dart out to taste her tears. With his lips against her skin, he murmured, “Starting today, I’ll never lie to you again. I swear. If there’s shit you don’t want to know, you’re going to have to tell me not to tell you.”

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