Page 20 of Broken Innocence
Luca has kept our conversations brief and light the past few weeks. Talking more about our nuptials like they’re a done dealversus sharing what he does in between visits to me. In another life, I might find our chats comforting. Trust-building. But this is reality, and he’s the man holding me here against my will.
“Do you want to sit and help me while we chat? I started crocheting these little stuffed animals to relax, then began donating them to the children at Polina’s Place to give them a better home.” Allie points to a framed photo on the wall of her and a group of smiling children proudly holding a zoo of animals ranging from elephants to tigers.
“That’s amazing. Of course, I’ll help. Just show me the pattern.” My Nana taught me how to knit, crochet, and sew years ago as a little girl. There was even a lesson on creating the delicate lace Italy is known for. I never quite mastered the tedious process, but crocheting miniature animals for kids? I can definitely handle that.
Allie offers several patterns, and I choose the red panda—one of the cutest animals on the planet and a favorite of mine—before listening as she details the Blackchapel Bastards’ background. How each man arrived at the manor as a boy. How they were forced to become ruthless mercenaries as kids. How it was all their fathers’ fault.
“From what Mathias told me, it sounds like Luca had a decent childhood with his mom and dad before she died, then the don decided to pawn Luca off on Conrad rather than disrupt the life he had going with his wife and Fabian by bringing his eldest, but illegitimate, son home.”
“I'm sorry to hear how Luca grew up, but he's still a stranger to me. Even these past few weeks, our conversations haven't lasted longer than the few minutes it takes for him to bring my meals and ensure I finish them. I don't truly know the man.”
“Butheknowsyou,” Allie says, then flushes, ducking her head as if she didn't mean to blurt that out.
“What do you mean?”
She bites her lip and meets my curious gaze. “I probably shouldn't say anything, but since you're going to be married, I don't see how it would hurt… And you deserve to know… Did you receive some kind of fruit basket or bouquet recently?”
The question comes from so far out in left field that it's practically out of the stadium. “A fruit basket?” I laugh, pausing my stitches with the red yarn Allie gave me. “What does that have to do with Luca?”
“So, you did get one?”
My brows furrow. “Yeah, but from my apartment complex.”
“Umm…” She draws the word out. “That wasn't from your apartment. The guys happened to see an order placed by Luca and put two and two together that he was interested in somebody.”
“Okay, but that doesn't really make sense. Why would he send me a fruit bouquet, especially when my apartment complex has sent me all these other gifts, too?”
“Other gifts?”
Suddenly, I'm the one blushing. Like maybe I should have kept my mouth shut. “Yeah, there was a book for cat recipes and a butterfly suncatcher.” As the words leave my mouth, they register with a different connotation in my mind.
A butterfly suncatcher.
Luca calls meButterfly.
“No way.” I shake my head in disbelief, but Allie keeps her mouth shut and hums in her throat in a knowing way. “No,” I deny again. “Why would he send those things? It doesn't make sense.”
“The guys think his little obsession started around the time his dad had his birthday party. Did you attend?”
“Of course, everybody inThe Familydid.”Including his bastard son, I finish in my head the sentence that Allie is clearly holding back from saying.
The irony is if I hadn't been so engrossed in my mafia romance, then I might have heard the gossip happening in my own mafia family about Don D’Amora’s illegitimate son appearing at the party.
I want to slap my forehead at how utterly clueless I've been. This is why I want separation fromFamilypolitics. I'm not cut out for this life of secrets and surprises.
Like the first gift showing up in my mailbox rather than with my leasing agent when she handed over a gift bag and folder welcoming me to the complex. Luca even impersonated a maintenance man to gain access to my home!
I've been so stupid.
“Luca has been sending me gifts since the Don's birthday party,” I say flatly.
“And he might have been stalking you, too?” Her shoulders rise and fall in hesitation. “He's disappeared most nights. Everyone thought it had to do with a woman, so it's not much of a leap to assume he was going to see you.”
“But I've never even met Luca before two weeks ago. He must have been going somewhere else.” I leave out his maintenance visit, unwilling to share something that might confirm Allie’s suspicions.
“Just because you didn't see him doesn't mean he didn't see you.”
The words are quiet, but they roar in my head as my eyes widen at the implication. Luca stalked me. I have a stalker, and he’s going to be my husband in three days. My fingers slip on the crochet hook.
