Page 27 of Not Mine to Keep

Her breathing slowed a bit to a normal pace at my words, and her light-green eyes found mine.

I had to resist the urge to murmur,That’s a good girl. Just breathe for me. Relax.And there went my dick, ready to spring into action like a dog being offered a treat. What was wrong with me?

“August. Sounds like the perfect month for a divorce.” I forced a smile, even gave a little tooth with it, which was rare, hoping to keep her on the calm train.

“This is all . . .”

“Madness, I know,” I finished for her, thinking about what had gone down today. If I hadn’t shown up at her house before her walk, the woman would be dead. And I couldn’t allow myself to go to that dark place. The woman drove me nuts already, but the idea of anything happening to her was unacceptable.

Thankfully, she hadn’t given me pushback on flying to Italy, and Gabriel had managed to get a cleanup crew to the park before the bodies had been discovered. Armani’s people would work on interrogating the guard I’d tied up in her garage, to determine the truth.

In the meantime, I needed to convince my family to get on board with the plan, and then do something I sure as hell didn’t want to do—ask my old man to make a call to The League in Italy for an alliance with one of their enemies.

I preferred to handle everything myself, but since Dad was former League, he was now our best shot at recruiting their help while I stuck by Callie’s side to keep an eye on her.

“It’ll be okay.” I found myself attempting to reassure her when she went back to fidgeting with her buttons. I was two seconds away from helping her remove the jacket and shirt altogether if she didn’t stop.

“Sure,” she mumbled, then finally did as I’d asked and boarded the jet.

Once alone, I FaceTimed Enzo.

He picked up on the second ring, but when he answered, he had his daughter, Chiara, wrapped up in his arms. “What’s up? You okay?”

“I’m about to invite Izzy and Hudson to join the call. I’ll fill you in together,” I quickly explained.

“Not Constantine, too?” Enzo asked as I dialed in the others.

“No, not yet.” At the weird hitch in my voice, his wife must’ve clocked it, too, because she appeared on screen next to him.

Maria gave me a little nervous smile while taking Chiara, sensing the call wasn’t meant for my niece.

“Hey, stranger,” Izzy said, popping onto the call.

Hudson still hadn’t answered, which was strange since he was the only one clued in on the situation. But not even a second later, he appeared on camera—well, in the same frame as my sister.

“Why are you two together? And athercondo?”At least you’re not wearing his shirt or something.I’d probably blow a fucking gasket.

Hudson cursed under his breath while giving Izzy his signature scowl. When he returned his focus to the screen, he shared, “She stopped by my bar earlier, and I happened to be working on something for you in my office, and you know her, she’s curious. Snatched my laptop from me, and—”

“I made him talk,” Izzy cut him off. “Anyway, are you seriously getting married?”

“Wait, what?” Enzo had been chewing on something, and from the looks of it, he was now choking.

Maria appeared on camera, Chiara no longer in her arms, to slap his back.

“I’m fine, I’m fine,” Enzo promised, clutching his throat for a second. “Just shocked.”

“Marriage?” Maria asked, opting to stay on the call.

“He’s marrying Armani DiMaggio’s daughter this week.” Izzy bit the bullet for me, and I was going to knock Hudson out for cracking so easily when she’d pressed him for intel. The man had been a Navy SEAL and had withstood interrogation by the worst of the worst and had never given up shit, but all it took was my little sister to get him to talk.

Hudson grimaced, shooting me an apologetic look, reading my thoughts.

“And who’s Armani? And more importantly, who’s his daughter?” Maria asked, pointing her curious brown eyes at my brother.

“Consider him mafia royalty,” Enzo told her. “The king of the oldest criminal group still in existence in Sicily.” He faced the screen again. “But I thought when he died, there’d be no more living DiMaggios. Since when does he have a daughter? And what do you mean you’re marrying her?” Before he let me finish, he shook his head and cursed a few of the more colorful Italian words he reserved for situations such as these. Not that I’d ever thought this situation would happen to me.

Marriage. Fuck.

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