Page 53 of Little Dove

“Someone got to Gia?” I ask, shocked.

Rori nods. “One of the men guarding her was a traitor, and he let in your father, your cousin, and one of the men that she was originally promised to who was there to take her and Sienna away. It was only a week and a half ago, so security and safety are heightened to make sure it never happens again.”

I stiffen. Wait, if that only happened a little over a week ago…

“So you’re telling me that Lazaro knew about this happening and still brought me back here? What he told me was a lie? I’m not actually safe, because there are people in this very house that might sell me out?”

Rori’s eyes widen ever so slightly, like she’s just clicked into what she’s revealed and that I clearly had no idea. “Ahhhh…”

“Yeah, that’s what I thought,” I mutter. “Just another thing that he’s tried to control; not telling me important information that I should know. Let’s add that to the ever-growing list of why Lazaro and I will never ever be anything more than acquaintances.”

“I swear to God, these men are going to be the end of me with how often I have to fix their fuckups,” she mutters. “Amara, he wasn’t here when all that happened, so no, he probably didn’t know when he was coming to find you.”

“Oh, but he knew the moment we got back on that plane, right? Don’t try and defend him now, Rori. A lie by omission is still a lie, especially when it concerns safety. I’m done with it all. I’m done with lies, secrets, control, you name it. Now, let’s go.” I pick up my bag, slinging it over my shoulder and walking out of the closet.

I barely emerge when I see the bedroom door open, and in walks a once more thunderous-looking Lazaro and an equally pissed off Alonzo. I stop and turn to glare at Rori. She shakes her head. “Wasn’t me.”

“It was Mario,” Lazaro bites out. “Alonzo.”

Alonzo wastes no time walking toward us. I stiffen, not sure what I’m going to do if he touches me, but his gaze never moves toward me once. It’s solely focused on Rori. “Don’t even think about it,” Rori warns him. On cue, Hades moves to her side, emitting a low growl. Alonzo barks a sharp word of command in what I assume is Italian, which has Hades stop growling, but not lower his guard. Rori glares furiously at Alonzo. “Oh, I don’t fucking think so,” she snarls, but before she can say anything else, Alonzo has his hand over her mouth and lifts her easily off the ground. Hades barks and runs after them, clearly unsure of what to do.

The moment they’re all clear of the door, Lazaro slams it shut behind them and locks it. The sound is loud, and a sense of trepidation fills me, but it’s not enough to override the fury. He makes his way toward me, his steps soft on the marble floor, but they’re like stomps in my mind.

The second he’s in front of me, I don’t hesitate. I punch him straight in the dick. You’d think he’d have learned from last time, but the man isn’t one for learning from his mistakes. This time, though, I give in to my intrusive thought and call, “Timber!” before I step aside and head for the door.

“Amara,” Lazaro barks, gasping for breath as I hear him struggle to get to his feet.

“I’m not talking to you, Lazaro.” I unlock the door and open it, but stop when I’m barricaded by Massimo and Urso, their arms crossed and amused looks on their faces. “Move,” I order them.

“Sorry, little sister, but we can’t do that,” Urso tells me with a charming smile. “Seems our brother fucked up, and we feel he needs to tell you that. Which means you’re staying put to listen.”

“Did we hear you say timber?” Massimo asks, laughing. Both of them look over my head into the room, and that’s my opening. I don’t even stop, I just ball my fist and send it flying. Urso letsout a pained, keening sound when it connects, but I don’t bother yelling timber this time. Instead, I move quickly away from Massimo, who whips back around, and keep on going. “What the fuck?” Massimo barks. “Did she just punch you in the dick?”

I don’t wait to see if they’re coming after me. I just keep on hurrying away. I want to be as far away from all of them as possible.

I make it to the end of the hallway before another large figure steps in front of me. I barely manage to keep myself from punching out again, but only because it’s Aurelio, with Pietro stepping beside him. Even as angry as I am, I know punching the Don or his main man is a bad idea. “What is going on?” Pietro asks, his hard eyes going over my head, and then widening.

“Amara and I are about to have a discussion,” Lazaro grits out as he comes up behind me.

“You and I have nothing more to talk about,” I snarl, turning and glaring at him furiously. A smug satisfaction fills me when I see how stiffly and carefully he’s walking. “And I swear, if you try to grab me again, I’m going to do worse than punch you in the balls.”

“Amara—”

“Enough,” Pietro barks. Everyone goes silent, and I slowly turn to look at the Don. “Lazaro, Amara, I see we have some things to sort out. Come into my room. Aurelio, you too, in case I need you to knock some sense into your son. You two, get back to work.”

“Fuck, I think she might have broken it,” I hear Urso moan morosely.

“Well, I’m not fucking checking it,” Massimo tells him. “I’m just glad she aimed for you and not me. Far too many women would weep with despair if mine got damaged.” I don’t hear what Urso says back, but Massimo laughs.

I want to argue, because I’m so done with talking, but Pietro simply turns and opens the first door at the end of the hallway, steps back, and gestures for me to enter. I walk stiffly inside, taking in the spacious room that looks even bigger than Lazaro’s. The bed is the same, though instead of just a sitting area, there is also a work space. Papers and things are strewn across the wide surface of the desk.

The door shuts, bringing me out of my thoughts, and I look at Pietro as he gives me a warm smile. “Don’t worry,cara, we’ll get this all straightened out,” he assures me, holding out his hand to me gallantly. I hesitate before I reach out to take it, and allow him to lead me over to the seating area. “Knowing my godson, I’d say that whatever the problem is, it’s his doing.” He gives Lazaro a pointed look before returning his attention to me. He gestures for me to take a seat on the sofa across from him, and though I hesitate, I set my bag on the ground and sit on the edge of the seat, ready to get up and leave at the first opportunity.

“Pietro, this is between Amara and I,” Lazaro says tightly as he moves further into the room to stand just beside the couch I’m sitting on. “We can sort it out ourselves.”

Pietro looks up at him and loses his smile. It’s fascinating to see the change in him. Warm and gentle one moment, dark and powerful in the blink of an eye. “Clearly not, if the woman is fleeing from you with a bag,” he tells him harshly. He says something else to him in Italian, and when I look at Lazaro, his shoulders tighten even further, and something akin to pain fills his eyes.

I don’t like it. I don’t know what Pietro has just told him, but I have this inexplicable urge to reach out to him and assure him everything is fine. To take some of that pain away. Lazaro doesn’t even glance at me as I study him, and a frown pulls at my mouth.

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