Page 148 of Ruins
“Alexei left, that’s someone,” Romeo says with finality as he enters the room leaving me in the hall. Luca stops next to me. “Enzo and Sergei are guarding the property with the others; I’ll be out here with Romeo while you sleep.”
I nod but don’t bother telling him I won’t be sleeping, at least not in this room. Romeo steps aside, gesturing for me to go in. Back in my bedroom, I quickly shower and throw on a robe, tying it securely. With an entourage now my shadow, modesty seems necessary.
When I open the door, both men look surprised to see me. Luca lowers his phone a little too quickly, his movements stiff.
“Who are you talking to?” I ask, narrowing my eyes.
“Angelo,” Luca clips, his tone firm.
“Liar,” I counter, folding my arms over my chest.
“I don’t lie,” he says coolly, mimicking my stance.
“To me, you do,” I challenge. “I want to speak to Santo.”
“He’s busy,” Luca says, his voice sharper now.
But before I can reply, I hear a deep sigh from the phone in Luca’s hand. Santo’s unmistakable voice cuts through the tension.
“Give her the phone.”
Luca’s jaw tightens as he switches off the speaker and hands the phone to me. I press it to my ear, my frustration melting slightly at the sound of Santo’s voice.
“Santo?”
“Why aren’t you sleeping? It’s late, Dea,” he mutters, the weariness in his tone tugging at something inside me.
“Are you okay?” I ask quietly.
“I’m working,” he replies simply, but there’s a softness in his words, almost an apology.
“Okay,” I whisper, defeated, before handing the phone back to Luca. I make my way downstairs, Romeo trailing me silently. I can hear Luca’s low voice reverberating in the background, but I don’t care to listen. Santo has his responsibilities—to the Don, to my cousin, to Cosa Nostra.
My mother’s voice echoes in my head:“Your job is to help, not hinder the men in your life.”
I roll my eyes at the thought. Subhuman, trophies, and trinkets—nothing more to men like them, to men like Santo.
Ignoring Romeo’s questioning glances, I grab the blanket from the armchair, plop onto the couch, and curl up, facing the backrest. Luca’s heavy steps thud behind me, stopping at the couch.
“You’re going to pout in here?” he asks.
I don’t answer, pulling the blanket over my head and shutting my eyes.
I wake to the sound of muted voices. The scent of him is unmistakable—Santo is here. My heart skips, but I don’t move, feigning sleep as the men continue talking, oblivious to my consciousness.
“Why is she down here?” Santo’s deep whisper is tinged with irritation.
“She chose to. Should we have moved her?” Romeo replies.
There’s a pause, and I imagine Santo giving one of his silent, deadly looks before he speaks again.
“I have Nico replacing Alexei tomorrow,” Santo says, his tone firm, authoritative. “What did he say to her?”
“Don’t know. It was in Russian, but she looked bothered.”
Santo’s voice drops, a harsh edge cutting through his whisper. “If we weren’t low on men, I’d kill him myself.”
Guilt twists in my chest as I hear him sigh heavily, exhaustion weighing down every syllable. “You two can go. I have her.”
