Page 70 of Vicious Heir

“That phase lasted maybe two months before he broke the guitar over the head of this other boy in one of their endless fights,and that was that. He got a haircut and decided he liked knives instead of music. What a missed opportunity. You never could tame that boy.”

I cackle with delight. Everybody has an awkward teenager phase. It’s basically an intrinsic part of the human condition. But I never in a million years would’ve guessed Adriano would’ve been a budding scene kid.

The sliding door opens suddenly. We both look back to find my husband looking out at us. I flinch, surprised, and it’s like seeing a loved one come back from the dead. I try to remember the last time we made eye contact and can’t. Now, he’s staring right at me.

“We need to talk,” he says.

Donatella gets up. “I was just heading home anyway.” She throws back her wine. “Good to see you, Adriano, dear. How’s work?”

“Busy.”

She pats his shoulder as she shuffles past him. Then he comes out to join me on the patio, but he doesn’t sit down.

He looks haggard. Beautiful and sculpted, but ragged at the edges. His eyes are tired and his hair’s slightly messy. His suit looks like he slept in it, which he genuinely might have.

I don’t know what to say. All this time I’ve been dreaming about him, and now he’s right there, and I have nothing. I want to tell him how much I miss him. But what do I really miss? His hands? His mouth? The dirty way he whispered in my ear?

All of that and everything else too. His arms around me, his heartbeat, his lips brushing my neck.

“I think you should know there have been some threats made against your family.”

My eyebrows raise. “Oh, really?”

“Your brother in particular.”

That catches my attention. Pierre and I haven’t been close for years, but he’s still my older brother. We survived the Helena Regime together and suffered through the family’s downfall side by side. We mourned our parents when they passed. We’re very different people, but I don’t hold that against him.

“How serious is it?”

“I can’t be sure, but I have people watching him.” Adriano glances away. The outside fairy lights cast a shadow along his cut jaw.

“Is that a new scar?” I ask, sitting forward.

He grunts and touches his face. “It’s nothing.”

“Nothing? It looks like someone tried to cut your head off.”

“Just a minor disagreement.”

That finally does it. Something in me breaks. “Is that how it’s going to happen then? I won’t see you for weeks. I’ll only know you’re alive because you drink the espresso every day and put on the clothes I leave out for you, and then suddenly I’ll get a call. Adriano got his head blown off. Is that how I’ll find out you’re really gone?”

He flinches, and his face hardens. His jaw flexes as he glares at me. “It’s a dangerous time, Lucy. You know that.”

“I also know you’re my husband, and it’s like you don’t exist anymore.”

“I’m dealing with a lot.”

“And you’re ignoring a lot too.” I’m being too hard on him. I know it, but I can’t help myself. “I know we’re not really married or whatever. I know you only did this because you wanted my last name?—”

“Stop it,” he says, his voice rough with a surprising passion.

“At least admit it. Now that you’re the Don, you don’t need me anymore. You have the fund. You have my connections. Why not just disappear?”

“It’s not like that.”

“Isn’t it? That’s how it feels to me. I just want to go to bed one night and have you there with me. Or maybe we can pass each other in the halls and say hello, or you can come see how I’m doing, or you can justtalkto me. But it’s like you moved away.”

“I haven’t left,” he says softly, hands clenched into fists. “There’s a war going on out there, Lucy. My men are dying. I’m fighting to make sure you’re safe. I want to protect you, but I can’t keep you safe if all I’m doing is obsessing about every inch of you.”

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