Page 7 of Broken Innocence
“I didn’t have to snoop. You left the tab open with the confirmation order on the study’s shared computer.”
Damn it.I’d been too eager to see Eden’s reaction to the book of cat recipes set to arrive later that day to go through the usual steps of deleting evidence of my actions. Her excitement while flipping through the pages had been worth the oversight, though. It matched the look of pure joy on her face when she’d discovered the fruit basket earlier this afternoon.
That had been a close call.
After fixing her dishwasher, I’d had to run to my usual hiding spot in the trees once I saw the delivery guy park his van in front of her building.
“If you want pineapple daisies, buy them yourself. That order won’t be arriving here anytime soon.”
“What he means is that it was already delivered to his girl.” Jonah enters the kitchen with Mathias and Allie in tow. The two lovebirds are even more inseparable since they got engaged.
“Luca’s got a girl? Since when?” Mathias asks, plucking two slices of turkey from the container and sharing one with Allie. It still surprises me to see Mathias—the Blackchapel Bastards’ unofficial leader—so relaxed.
I had my doubts when he brought Allie to stay at the manor all those months ago, especially when I couldn’t do the same thing with Eden.Too risky. Dangerous.That’s what I told myself.
And Allie and Mathias faced their fair share of life-threatening events.
But they made it through. Are engaged. Happy as hell.
My jaw clicks with the grinding of my teeth.God, I’m so fucking jealous.I wanted to eat in peace before whiling away the hours until I could visit Eden again tonight.
Instead, I’m faced with what I don’t have—my girl at my side—and a family intent on prying into my secrets.
Jonah pretends to think for a minute before snapping his fingers. “Since D’Amora’s sixty-fifth birthday celebration. After that, Luca started disappearing most nights.” As the head of security for Blackchapel Inc. and its criminal counterpart Blackthorn, it’s no surprise Jonah has noticed my regular disappearances. “I assume it has to do with a woman.”
Allie’s eyes widened in excitement behind her glasses. “You met someone at your dad’s party? Who is she?”
“No one.” My gut clenches. I hate referring to Eden in that way, because she’s far from nothing to me, but I’m not about to launch into an explanation about my personal affairs. I don’t care if this is my family. A man’s got to have some secrets. “I mean, there isn’t anyone. Jonah has too much time on his hands and is pulling stuff out of his ass. Shouldn’t you be tailing that journalist and finding out more of what she knows about your dad?”
“Yeah, how is Valerie? Recovered from her run-in with an assassination attempt? Or did she let it scare her off? It’s been months since she started that article.” Rafe steals a turkey slice for himself, and I give up on having a peaceful meal, shoving the container closer to the group gathered on the other side of the kitchen island.
“She’s a professional. Of course, she didn’t let Anderson’s goons silence her,” Jonah says defensively. “She’s just been busy with other stories, thanks to her editor.”
“Maybe we should invite her to the manor,” Allie suggests. “Now that she’s met us, she might be more inclined to come here versus a public space. We can see if there’s any way we can help expedite things for her.”
“Good idea,mon amour.” Mathias kisses the top of Allie’s head as the conversation continues without me, my mind circling back to Eden.
Our lives are dangerous. We’re working to dismantle a decades-old crime establishment to ruin the men who abandoned us as boys. That doesn’t leave much room for love and relationships.
But somehow Mathias is making it work.
It gives me hope that maybe I won’t have to keep my distance from my woman for much longer.
CHAPTER FIVE
EDEN
Dad wipes his mouth with a napkin before tossing it on the dining table and clearing his throat. A silent conversation passes between him and Mom, their eyes speaking a language only couples married for decades know.
“Is something wrong?” I venture, curious about the sudden weight in the air.
Our Sunday dinner was the usual fare of good food and catching up on family news while avoiding the two topics that always cause a strain between us—Dad’s off-limits work and my decision to become more independent.
“Far from it,” Dad begins as Mom squeezes his hand with a smile. “Don D’Amora called yesterday.”
“Are you getting promoted?” Despite my father’s age, he’s not even a capo in the D’Amora organization, and while I’d hate for him to climb ranks to a more dangerous position, I know receiving praise and recognition from the don is important to him.
“He wanted to discuss you, Eden.”
