Page 124 of Filthy Little Regrets

“And where was that?” I slide the first coffee to her and start the next, glancing over my shoulder with an arched eyebrow.

“He knows my husband.”

“Oh?”

Mace nods in confirmation. “Enzo Greco.” The way he says it means something. It would be great if I knew what.

“Okay.” I grab the finished coffee and stand across the island. “Well. I guess you’re wondering about this.” I flash my ring. “Mace and I got married. You’re probably thinking it’s too fast and I’m being rash about it, but it’s done. We’re happy.”

Dr. Greco slides her gaze to Mace. “Can I have a moment with my patient? Alone.”

He squints at the hard tone. Great. Here comes thedon’t tell me what to do.“Cassia?”

He’s asking me?

Yeah, I’m asking youhe says with a simple look.

I grin. I realize the bar is low here, but when a guy like Mace—who could snap his fingers and get whatever he wants—defers to me? That’s not something I take lightly. Him giving me power over my own fate is part of the reason I don’t want to leave. I’ve had every chance to say no when it really counts.

“I’ll be fine.”

Reluctantly, he gets out of his seat, stopping at Dr. Greco’s side and murmuring something low enough I can’t hear. She goes ramrod straight. I need to figure out what the fuck is going on as soon as possible. Why is he being so weird?

She scowls after him, and as soon as the door is shut, she’s out of her seat, rushing around the island. “I heard about the marriage through the grapevine. Are you okay?”

I rear back. “I’m fine.”

“Cassia,” she says, tone urgent. “I don’t have time to explain, but I know about being forced into marriage. I know what men like Mace are like.”

“What are you saying?”

“Made men are all the same.” She grasps my arm. “Please, let me help you.”

The plea takes me off guard. Actually, everything she said has me reeling. What does she know about the mafia or arranged marriages? Unless, is she saying what I think she’s saying?

“Bianca, are you okay?” Why is she so afraid?

Her face crinkles, brown eyes filling with worry. “This isn’t about me. It’s about you. Let me help you get out of the country. You can stay with my nonna while we figure out how to get rid of Mace.”

“Whoa, whoa. I don’t want to do any of that. Mace isn’t a made man.”

“Mafia or not, he’s made in his own way. These men, they don’t care about us.” She’s trembling now.

Unease swirls inside of me. “I swear to god, I’m okay. Mace is...sweet.”

She frowns, hand falling away. “You’re not ready. It’s okay. We can handle this when you are, but it’s better if we do it now. The longer you wait, the harder it is to get out, Cassia.”

I can’t tell if she’s still talking about my situation or hers. I haven’t really pried into her life. Although she wears a ring, there are no pictures of her husband or any family in her office. I assumed it was for safety reasons, but the way she’s acting...it’s cagey and, frankly, kind of sketchy. “Do you need help?”

She gives me a look. “I’m the therapist.”

“No, not like that,” I say, shaking my head. “Are you safe?”

Recoiling from the question, she takes two steps back, breathing in. “I’m sorry. I crossed the line coming here. You’re okay otherwise?” She’s avoiding the question.

I let it slide. “Yeah, I’m okay. The medicine is working, the breathing techniques help. I...guess you know aboutMace, so I don’t need to tell you about that.” It’s not surprising gossip spreads through the mafia networks like wildfire. “He’s good, Dr. Greco. I mean it. He treats me like I’m a queen.”

She glances away, but not before I see the doubt flashing across her face. “The offer stands. You have my number. Call me when you need help.”

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