Page 79 of Massimo

Camillo's movements are jerking as makes the wise choice to obey Vincenzo's command. "This disrespect can't be unpunished, Vincenzo."

The Texan-slash-Italian has always been a whiny bitch.

"You started it, Camillo," Vincenzo admonishes like he's a child, then eyes the table. "Massimo is not here to prove his innocence. Let's carry on."

I don't fool myself thinking I'm in the clear with any of these men, least of all Vincenzo. However, I sit down and accept an espresso from a young woman who looks like she's about to piss her pants with fear of who's dining at her boss's home.

The chatter is light and non-criminal as the staff serves and cleans up breakfast. The discussion and planning for the criminal activities will occur in the private meeting room. Drug trafficking was a big revenue generator for a number of them. Arms dealing and money laundering were my family's main bread and butter, but we all had our hands in other things.

I would bring up the discussion about Mancini again to try to change the vote, but even if the 'Ndrangheta didn’t back me, with what I was planning, Nova would be mine to protect.

Chapter 32

Nova

Massimohasquicklybecomemy crutch.

I hate how deeply I slept with him beside me. I hate how, without him here, it's hard to eat; Gabe and Jerome had to order me to eat and to finish everything set in front of me last night and this morning.

I hate the control my father has on me. And I hate the paralyzing fear that my father will burst through the doors and grab me without Massimo here.

Huddling tighter under a thick crocheted blanket on the window seat in the library, I put my book down, giving up trying to distract myself from my ruminating. It's raining today, which matches my mood perfectly. February is way warmer here than back home in Boston, but I feel chilled to the bone.

In fact, I've felt chilled since Massimo left.

Staring out the window at the garden maze and fountain, I wonder what it's like in the spring and summer. Daydreams of sitting out there, basking in the warm sun, push in, but I mentally slap myself.

There's no future here, where this is my home.

My future holds one of three options. My father finds me and punishes me before marrying me to Julien Moreau. I'm dead, either at my father's, Julien's, or even Massimo's hands. Or Massimo lets me leave this world behind and live a quiet, peaceful life.

I hear the library door open, and I turn in a curved reading nook. Gabe comes in, carrying a lunch tray.

"I was going to come to the kitchen. You don't need to wait on me, Gabe."

He's a large man with inky black hair and severely handsome looks. The thick scar on his neck always reminds me that he's a lethal, capable man in this dark world.

Regardless of my lingering wariness of Gabe, I perk up at the smell. "Is that coffee?"

A deep, rumbling chuckle makes my heart freeze. I'd recognize that laugh anywhere, even though I'd only heard it a few times.

Massimo.

My heart gallops like a racehorse, and I search behind Gabe, but Massimo doesn't enter.

"Jerome is going to start slowly reintroducing caffeine and richer foods, princess." It's Massimo's voice, and I realize he's talking to me from Gabe's phone sitting on the tray.

Disappointment fills me that he isn't here, and I shove that away.

Shifting my position, I sit cross-legged on the window seat, and Gabe sets the tray down. His phone is propped up, and Massimo's handsome face is on the screen. I can't make out anything of his surroundings, but that doesn't matter because he's there.

I squeeze my eyes shut. I'm such an idiot—missing my captor, wanting the man who will use me as a pawn for revenge against my father to be here with me.

"Princess." Massimo's deep voice, husky yet soft, pulls my eyes open. "I'll be home soon."

His promise makes my heart ache, which I promptly ignore.

The door clicks, and I realize Gabe left me alone in the library with his phone. I could disconnect the call from Massimo and call someone for help. But really, who would I call?

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