Page 26 of Unhinged Little Angel

“Because my place is bigger, and I own it instead of renting. If you’d rather get a house outside the city, we can talk about that long term.”

“Long term?” I echo. “Did you hit your head or something?”

He chuckles but doesn’t respond. Instead, he changes the subject again. “We have a long, quiet drive ahead of us. Seems like the perfect time for you to tell me about this stalker of yours.”

My stomach clenches and my muscles tighten instantly, my fingers curling reflexively into fists.

“I don’t want to get into it.”

“You came to me for protection, but you won’t tell me who I’m protecting you from?” He tightens his grip on the steering wheel, frustration dripping from his usually patient voice. “You can see where you’re making this difficult for me, right, Angel?”

I turn my face towards the window and focus on the dark outline of the mountains in the distance, and the blanket of stars overhead. For years I hoped that by never speaking his name out loud or talking about what happened, it would all just fade away, that it would turn into a foggy nightmare you can’t quite remember.

“His name is Don Moreno. He’s currently in prison, set for release in two and a half weeks. I don’t know who he got to take those pictures and break into my apartment. That’s all I’m going to say about it.”

“Has he hurt you, Angioletto? Did he touch you?” Salvatore’s question is guttural, raising goose bumps on my skin and,strangely, settling the quiver in my stomach. He doesn’t just want to protect me, he wants to avenge me. Something warm and almost affectionate swells inside me and, without looking, I reach over to put my hand on his thigh.

Lies from years past burn on my tongue. Half-truths that created every bit of the situation I’m in, but that I can’t find it in myself to regret for one second. I did what I had to do, and I would do it again. My knuckles ache with the memory of justice only partially delivered. I guess if I had one regret about what happened, it would be that I left him breathing at all.

“No,” I answer.

The silence is filled with questions I know Salvatore wants to ask. But he keeps them to himself, and I like him a little bit more for not pushing, for respecting that I don’t want to dredge up the past any more than I have to.

“You’re going to have to make space in your closet for my clothes,” I murmur, still looking out the window. “I have a lot.”

He laughs and it sounds like agreement, and he drives a little faster down the dark desert road towards home.

Chapter 12

SALVATORE

Half a day spent driving and barely enough time for a brief nap and a change of clothes has the music and lights of the club feeling like some kind of disorienting dream. I’m sure it’s too much to hope that this meeting will be short, and I’ll be able to head home to crawl into bed with my new husband while the night is young. A heavy feeling of need settles in my gut, and I glance towards the stage automatically, even though I know I won’t see Dante there. I didn’t have time to call anyone over to guard him, but there’s no way Don or anyone else could know where he is right now. Tomorrow I’ll work out a schedule to have someone with him at all times. Tonight, he should be safe at my apartment.Ourapartment.

My chest swells with satisfaction and I bite back a grin as I approach our usual table, close to the main stage but not obnoxiously so.

“Damn, you’re really back in one piece,” Alessio says, eyeing me up and down like he’s double checking that I am in fact all here.

“Was there some doubt about that?” I pull out my usual chair and unbutton my suit jacket as I take a seat.

“There might have been a betting pool going about whether Dante had actually killed you and was scrambling to find some way to cover it up,” Elio admits while Alessio puts his feet up on the table and nods.

“The fact that I spoke to Lorenzo last night didn’t tip you off?”

“The brilliant idea of an AI voice copying yours was thrown around,” Xaviaro says dryly.

I snort a laugh.

“Shit, the wedding thing was real?” Alessio notices my ring and drops his feet to sit forward so he can get a better look.

Another swell of pride fills my chest. “Jealous?” I taunt, straightening my tie and smirking.

“Confused, if I’m being honest.” He shrugs.

“Why don’t we save planning the seating arrangements at the wedding shower for later,” Lorenzo says. “I have some news about the Fitzpatricks that’s slightly more urgent than speculation as to how Salvatore managed to put a ring on Dante’s finger without getting any of his broken.”

We all quiet immediately. Of course the Fitzpatricks are the reason my honeymoon was cut short. If I get the chance, I’ll be sure to find a way to thank Declan personally. I crack my neck and try to control my scowl.

“Cian Fitzpatrick, Declan’s younger brother.” Lorenzo pulls out his tablet, turning the screen so we can all see it. There are photos of a smug looking ginger fucker with tattoo sleeves down both arms and a cigarette between his lips in almost every picture.

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