Page 32 of Not Mine to Keep

Alessandro abandoned whatever he’d been saying in Italian, and in a heartbreaking tone answered, “Bianca.” Shades back on, he let go of the front seat and leaned back.

“I’m sorry.” Fidgeting with my ring again, I thought back to my research on Bianca.

“She was a history buff like you. Well, only when it came to Greek and Roman mythology, at least,” Alessandro revealed. “She used to talk about that stuff all the time. For some reason, I remember.”

Of course you would. You loved her, and then lost her.I kept those thoughts to myself, worried Frankie would speak up and antagonize the man about the loss of his sister, and I was fairly certain that’d send Alessandro over the edge. “Armani’s home is a castle. Well, a replica.” Subject changes weren’t my specialty, but I’d do my best if it meant keeping the peace in the SUV.

“Replica castle?” I could hear thethank youin Alessandro’s tone for the new topic.

“It’s a replica ofCastel dell’Ovo, also known as the Castle of the Egg. For a family obsessed with being Sicilian, it’s surprising they chose to imitate a castle from Naples with Norman origins.” I shared what I knew. “Armani even buried an egg on the site of the place, just like at the real castle.”

“Legend has it,” Frankie said, not sounding as asshole-y as he’d been before, “that if the egg breaks, not just the castle but the city will fall.”

“That was for the real one in Naples,” I reminded Frankie, unsure why I’d bothered to reengage with the man.

Frankie twisted around. “You saved the egg from breaking in this case,Principessa. If not for your existence, the DiMaggios’ bloodline would be over. The castle would fall.”

“Almost there,” the driver announced. I wasn’t sure who he was, but he caught my eyes in the rearview mirror, and something told me he was less of a jerk than Frankie.

Thankfully, Frankie faced forward and didn’t continue a history lesson I didn’t want from him about the bloodline.

The SUV rolled up to a set of ornate black and gold gates, and once they parted and we were on the property, I unbuckled, my anticipation, or more like dread, growing for what was to come.

It was a long drive from the gate to the front of the property, but a frustratingly pretty one with all the flowers and trees cocooning us on the ride.

Once parked out front of the castle, the driver came around and opened the door for me. “Thanks,” I tossed out awkwardly.

“I’m Leonardo, but you can call me Leo.” He was probably fifty or so and looked nothing like the only two Leonardos I was familiar with, DaVinci and DiCaprio. But he was the second man at the estate who had kind eyes, and the first was en route to us now. Gabriel.

“Sure,” I said to Leo as Alessandro came up alongside me, a hand moving to the small of my back, which managed to comfort me.

The men wordlessly followed Gabriel’s order to head inside, and then Gabriel strode our way. He gave off Keanu Reeves vibes from the movieThe Matrixwith his slicked-back, black hair and dark clothes. I felt like I was stuck inside a matrix and ready to escape this nightmare. “Sorry I couldn’t meet you.”

He didn’t reach for Alessandro’s hand in greeting once it was just the three of us, but why would he? They weren’t friends anymore, right? This was a debt owed for Alessandro.

“Not a fan of the assholes you sent to pick us up,” Alessandro remarked, keeping his hand on my back, even though said assholes were gone from sight.

“You talk with The League? Your family? They on board with the plan?” Gabriel asked, not addressing Alessandro’s comment.

“What, like the Justice League? I mean ...” I turned toward Alessandro, and he lowered his hand. “Superman and Batman are in it, so ...” At Alessandro removing his shades and shooting me a surprised look, I refocused and remembered where we were: not in a comic book but inside my own personal nightmare. “The League? Who are they?”

“My family leaves today for Sicily,” Alessandro said instead, as if it’d be a waste of his breath to explain. “And my father spoke with Emilia Calibrisi, the head of The League in Italy, two hours ago.”

When Alessandro hadn’t been staring at me with frustration on the plane, and I hadn’t been tossing and turning while he snoozed, he’d been glued to his phone. So it wasn’t a shocking revelation to discover this news. It would’ve been more surprising had Alessandro shared it with me before.

“I need to speak to Emilia myself, but my dad believes The League will have our backs,” Alessandro went on when I didn’t interject and demand more information, and I was pretty sure he’d been half expecting me to. “So what news did you find out that kept you from coming to the airport yourself?”

“The men who interrogated the guard back in Tennessee were able to get him to talk.” Gabriel folded his arms, studying me. The man really did just need that full-length leather coat to complete the whole Neo persona fromThe Matrixlook. “When the guard learned Armani’s plan to force Calliope to marry this week, he reached out to Armani’s rival in Rome—let him know about an heir to the throne and for the right price, he’d give her up. Give you up, I mean.”

Right. I’m standing here. This is my life we’re talking about.“You’re saying Armani’s rivals tried to have me killed?”

“Yeah, and that gives Alessandro a better shot at your hand in marriage now,” Gabriel said, eyes back on Alessandro.

“How? I don’t follow.” I asked him, turning his way to demand his attention and answers, “What is it?”

“I need to kill the man responsible for your attempted murder—I have to take down the head of the Esposito mafia family in Rome,” Alessandro said, his tone almost too casual for me to handle.

“Premeditated murder is different from saving my life in the park yesterday.” I grabbed hold of his arm, refusing to let him kill for me, even if the man was the head of a crime family.

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