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Irritation grows. “I’m not afraid of anything.”

“You’re not afraid of crime and violence. But you’re afraid to feel.”

My teeth clench together as I work to hide how angry… how hurt I feel from her words.

Because she’s right. Well, sort of.

I’m not afraid to feel.

I just know that showing feelings makes you vulnerable. The last thing I plan to do is give someone ammunition against me.

"Let's skate," Gabriella says, eyes bright with challenge. She extends her hand toward me, a playful smile dancing on her lips. "Unless the mighty Don Calabresi is afraid of a little ice too?"

Anger blooms. This woman never stops pushing.

"I don't skate," I say flatly, keeping my hands firmly wrapped around my coffee cup.

"Everyone skates, Marco. It's not complicated." She tilts her head, that infuriating smile still in place. "I'll hold your hand if you're scared."

The memory of her hand in mine on New Year’s Eve, walking through my garden as fireworks sounded in the distance, slams into me with unexpected force.

With equal effort, I push it away.

"I'm not interested in playing your games, Gabriella." My voice is as cold as the air around us. "I'm here because it's expected, not because I want to participate in this" —I gesture vaguely at the festive scene— "charade."

Her smile falters slightly. "It's not a charade. It's people enjoying themselves. Family traditions."

"Then go enjoy it with your family."

"All work and no play makes Marco a dull boy," she teases, but I can see the hurt behind her eyes.

Good. Maybe now she'll leave me alone.

"I prefer dull to foolish," I reply, stepping back.

“I’ll skate with you.” Paulie Peretti, a captain in Dominic’s business, materializes beside Gabriella.

Gabriella studies me a moment.

If she’s waiting for me to step in, she’ll be disappointed. She shakes her head in disappointment at me before cranking up the wattage in her smile and turning it to Paulie.

“Thank you, Paulie.” She loops her arm through his and they head off to rent skates.

I watch her go, telling myself I'm relieved. This is better. Distance is better.

Until Paulie leans in close, saying something that makes her laugh, that laugh that is free and full of joy. Then his hand settles on her lower back as he helps her onto the ice.

Something hot and vicious twists in my gut.

He has no business touching her like that. Not that it's any of my concern who Gabriella skates with. Or laughs with. Or lets touch her.

I watch as Paulie and Gabriella glide together, her initial wobbles steadying as he supports her.

When she slips, he catches her against his chest, holding her there longer than necessary.

My coffee cup crumples in my grip, hot liquid splashing over my hand. I barely notice the burn.

"You look like you're contemplating murder," Roman says, appearing beside me.