Page 19 of Twisted Vows

My phone is the opposite. I sigh, shove her cell into my pocket, put on my shoes, and wait until I’m back on the streets before I text my boss.

Less than an hour later, I let myself into his private townhouse with two heavy sacks of food.

Even with the multiple layers of security and the straight-out-of-a-magazine furnishings, it feels like coming home. I take my first full breath in what feels like forever and greet Tristan, Aurora’s eight-year-old brother, as he rushes down the stairs and across the sitting room. He doesn’t stop as he approaches me, barreling straight into my body and wrapping his arms around my waist.

I don’t mind. At all. The little punk is curious as hell and wickedly smart. He catches on to the slightest nuances and promises to be a trustworthy don. In fact, with Giorgio Vivaldi and Aurora Achilles as his guardians, he’s set to inherit two mafia kingdoms.

I’ll protect him better than if he were my kin. We may have no blood relation, but he’s my nephew. My family.

I wrap my laden arms around him and give him a squeeze before ushering him toward the kitchen as I answer his random questions.

“Do I smell burgers?” Aurora calls from the back of the house.

I chuckle and carry the food up the stairs, around the kitchen, and up to the third level. Tristan leads me to the master bedroom, chattering the entire way.

Aurora’s bright expression as I enter the room is a balm to my heart. When she almost bled out a few days ago, it felt like the world was falling down around us, but I oversaw clean up so Giorgio could focus on his queen.

This is as close to having a family as I can allow myself. I can’t pass down the tainted blood running through my veins.

“So much for you not being a courier,consigliere,” Aurora snarks as I set the first bag on the coffee table.

I cherish our unique brand of banter, even if I’ll never admit it. The first time I met her, she told me to grow some balls and become consigliere even if I wasn’t consigliere material because she wasn’t wife material, but she sure as hell was marrying Giorgio anyway.

I quirk a brow, pretending I’m insulted, and pick the food back up to head the way I came.

“Don’t you dare walk out that door with my food!” When I don’t stop, she aims her voice toward the bathroom. “Giorgio!”

The boss man walks out with sweatpants hung low on his waist and rubbing a towel over his wet hair.

“You started it,mia topolina,” he stalks toward the bed, steals a quick kiss from her, then finishes with a bland glance over his shoulder at me, “but I think taking food away from my wife is taking it too far.”

I grumble my way back to the coffee table and set out the spread. Giorgio retrieves Aurora’s favorites and carries them over to the bed.

“I’m seriously okay now. I can get my own food, you know,” Aurora insists.

Giorgio just grunts and sets her up like a queen on a throne with a feast laid out in her lap. She sighs as she reaches for her first victim.

As delicious as the takeout is, I barely eat half of what I normally would. The lasagne alla Bolognese in Mia’s fridge haunts me.

“Please tell me you brought me something to do. I’m going stir crazy in here,” Aurora says between decimating dishes.

“It’s been less than two days since you got home,” I point out.

“Which is an eternity without my computer, butsomeonewon’t let me have any devices.” She flicks a glare at Giorgio. “He won’t even give me my phone unless he’s leaving.”

Giorgio’s unapologetic smirk pulls a snort from me.

“I told you not to sneak out of my bed again,mia topolina,” he says.

I cough to clear away my mirth and pull Mia’s phone out of my pocket. As I offer it to Giorgio, I address Aurora.

“I don’t blame the boss man for limiting your access to the internet. Knowing you, you’d take over the world and leave absolutely nothing for him to conquer.”

She quirks a brow and shoves an impressive amount of food in her mouth before crossing her arms over her chest and sitting back, silently promising retribution, but despite her show, she immediately reaches out for the phone when Giorgio offers it to her.

“What am I looking for?” she asks with a hand over her mouth as she continues chewing.

I shrug.

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