Page 89 of The Thief

She shrugs. “No idea. There are rumors of a big hotel development, but nobody really knows what’s going on.” She clucks in disapproval. “I’m surprised you didn’t get a notice. You should talk to your mailman and make sure you’re getting everything. You don’t want to miss something important.”

“I’ll do that.”

The only thing in my mailbox lately has been bills. But they’re arriving like clockwork, and there’s been no indication that the building has been sold, none at all. Well, none except for the elevator getting fixed.

People gossip in this city, especially in winter when the streets are quieter and there’s nothing much to do. But for someone to come in and buy every building in the square? What a preposterous idea.

* * *

There’san email from Rocco Cacciola waiting in my inbox when I get back home. It’s a repeat of his voicemail. He apologizes for the delay and wants to know when we can schedule an interview.

I stare at my screen for a long time, unsure of how to respond.

Everything is perfect. I care about Antonio, and I know he cares about me. Things are going well between us.Really well.

And yet. . .

And yet, I hesitate to write back and tell him I’m not interested in working at the Uffizi.

For ten years, I didn’t get involved, didn’t go on dates, and wouldn’t let myself get emotionally invested. Antonio is my first real relationship, andhe was worth the wait.What we have is real and special, and I don’t want to jeopardize it.

But the Russian threat isn’t the first time he’s in danger, and it won’t be the last. His life is violent. In his world, people settle their disagreements with bullets and blood. If I become a part of his life, it would be my world, too.

And one day—maybe now or maybe never—I will get a phone call from Dante or Enzo or Leo, and they’ll tell me what my parents’ lawyer said to me so many years ago. They’ll tell me that he’s dead.

I almost didn’t survive that first phone call. I won’t survive another.

Every minute I spend with Antonio, I fall deeper in love. Every minute I spend with him, I’m consumed by a gnawing anxiety that something will happen to him. That the worst-case scenario will come true.

I don’t care about the Uffizi job. It’s just a way to pretend that if something were to happen to Antonio, it wouldn’t wreck me. Telling myself that I can walk away from him without a backward glance is the lie that helps me cope with the dangers of his world.

But of course, it’s not true. I’m already in too deep.

I should just reply to Rocco Cacciola and tell him I’m no longer interested. Instead, I find myself writing,‘How about sometime next week?’

46

LUCIA

On the day of the gala, Antonio arranges to pick me up at my apartment. He knocks at my door exactly at seven, but I’m still putting the finishing touches on my makeup, so it takes me a minute to get to the door.

He’s on the phone when I open it, in conversation with one of his people. But the moment he sees me, he stops speaking and hangs up on them mid-sentence.

His heated gaze roams my body. “You look amazing,” he says, sounding slightly dazed. “You’re a vision.”

I flush at his compliment. “You don’t look too bad yourself.” This is the first time I’ve seen Antonio in a tuxedo. It’s beautifully tailored and fits him impeccably, and the effect of all that jaw-dropping perfection makes me lightheaded. “Who did you hang up on?”

“Dante.”

“Shouldn’t you call him back?”

“No,” he replies. His lips curl into a slow smile. “What I should do is come inside and fuck you until you can’t remember your own name.”

My knees go weak. “Tempting, but no,” I say regretfully. “Rosa gave me a steep discount on the dress because she’s counting on people seeing it and seeking out her boutique, so as much as I want to blow off the gala, I can’t.”

“Oh, fine,” he grumbles, offering me his arm. “If you insist.”

The gala is a glittering affair, taking place in the ornate halls of the palace. The décor is inspired by the Renaissance era. Rich velvet drapes hang from the walls, and gilded accents are everywhere, illuminated by a thousand flickering candles. Elaborate floral arrangements featuring Venetian roses, peonies, and lilies dot the room, filling the air with their delicate aroma.

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