Page 47 of Assistant to the Mafia

“Definitely not that,” Romeo said. “You’re grounded, young lady. Starting right now.”

“No!” Lucia cried, shouting again. “It was self-defense, Daddy! She can’t grow your new baby if her body is broken, and if there’s no new baby, you’ll still love me! No, put me down!”

Grace squeezed her eyes shut, not even wanting to watch their shadows move as Cristiano passed the shrieking girl to her father or as her father carried her away. There was no not hearing Lucia’s cries as Romeo hauled her from the room, his heavy steps echoing like thunder as he ascended the stairs.

“Damn,” Mikey said after several seconds. “Not sure I’ve ever seen her like that.”

“Maybe my flower analogy didn’t work so well,” Iris said quietly.

“That had nothing to do with this, Snapdragon,” Dante said.

Grace found herself fighting tears. The pain in her leg was already gone, but the pain in her chest … she feared that would last much, much longer. This was not the place to succumb to that. I need to get out of here.

But she’d lost her purse, her phone, her wallet, and everything that came with such things, when she’d been dragged from the Aviator. She had no quick access to her funds, no way to prove her identity, and no legal right to drive.

A piercing wail that could only have been Lucia shattered the awkward semi-silence.

Grace rolled her lips between her teeth and lifted her head, praying she could keep her broken heart off her face a little longer. “I’m sorry,” she said, her voice barely a whisper, “but could I … borrow someone’s driver? Or at least a car?” She knew a guy who managed a local motel. Not super well, but she could probably convince him to give her a room overnight on credit or an IOU. All she needed was a phone, really, but she wasn’t comfortable making that call in her current company.

She didn’t want to make it at all.

“Grace,” Iris said, her voice sad.

Grace shook her head. “I’m the one ruining your family time. The least I can do is leave. But I can’t really do that right now on my own—”

“Where will you go?” Dante asked. The subtle challenge in his tone was not unfamiliar.

She hesitated. She couldn’t go back to that apartment. It wasn’t safe, for one thing, but even if they insisted it was, it wouldn’t feel that way. She wouldn’t see anything but blood, disaster, and death. But she couldn’t exactly go back to Romeo’s house, either. She had nowhere else to land. Not in Newark. Not in all of New Jersey. Do I … have to quit, too?

Grace averted her gaze. “I can probably bribe my way into a free night at Skyline Inn.”

“Absolutely not,” Iris said.

Grace looked up at her friend on reflex. “Iris, I don’t have—”

Dante turned his gaze across the room. “You have a couple vacancies, don’t you?”

“2708’s all cleaned up,” Cristiano replied calmly. “I could find some quick furnishing for the basics.”

Grace shook her head, but she wasn’t even sure if she was refusing or simply confused. “What? No, I just—”

“Nonsense,” Eleonora said with a dismissive wave of her hand. “That tower of yours is perfectly fine, Cristiano, but not for a single woman without any resources. Particularly one who’s still recovering from injuries. She’ll come home with me, then. I have more space than I know what to do with.”

Grace felt her jaw drop.

“After dinner,” Dante added.

No one was listening. No one was considering all the obvious reasons, even for the sake of their own family, that she shouldn’t be staying. She shouldn’t even still be sitting on the sofa. Feeling a surge of anger, Grace shoved too quickly to her feet. “Never mind. It was rude of me to ask. I’ll walk.”

Iris made a sound of protest and frowns marred nearly every face she could see, but only one voice glued her slipper-covered feet to the floor.

“Walk where, angel?”

Her stomach twisted, the once-delicious smells drifting from the kitchen turning sour inside her, and Grace locked her jaw in an effort to stop the trembling. It was cowardly, but she’d wanted to slip away before he came back downstairs. She thought the next conversation might be easier if the core of it was already obvious. And if they were alone.

She should have known better.

Romeo walked around the sofa and stepped in front of her, curling a finger under her chin to tip her head up enough to meet his gaze. A frown curved his lips and something like sadness haunted his beautiful, usually mischievous, eyes. “Are you not feeling well?”

---