Page 65 of Stolen Touches

She stares at me. “Salvatore doesn’t do dates.”

“He told me.” I snort. “Also, I’m not a hundred percent certain, but I think he broke into my place and filled my refrigerator with food.”

The realization came only a couple of days ago when I stumbled on Ada preparing soup. I asked why we needed soup when no one was sick, and she said it was because Salvatore had told her I liked it the last time. The only soup I’ve eaten in the past two years was the one I found in my miraculously stocked fridge. I still don’t know what to think about that revelation. It’s cute in a very bizarre way.

Ilaria keeps on staring at me for a few moments, then slowly lowers her cup. “Has he been acting... strangely?”

“Well, your son is a very unusual person, Ilaria, and I don’t know him well enough to gauge what behavior is ‘normal-strange’ or ‘strange-strange.’” I shrug. “He wants me to call him and check in every two hours. Would that be considered ‘strange-strange?’”

“Yes. Did he say why?”

“Because of some compulsion to know where I am at all times. Do you think it’s some kind of OCD? Like when you need to touch your wallet every few minutes to make sure it’s there, you know?”

Ilaria closes her eyes and takes a deep breath. “It’s not OCD,” she says and looks at me with a grave expression on her face. “I think he... likes you.”

I burst out laughing. “He did force me to marry him, so yes, I assume he likes me.”

“Salvatore doesn’t like people, Milene. He respects them, or not. But he doesn’tlikethem.”

I furrow my brows in confusion. “That’s crazy. He likeshis men. I saw how concerned he was when the Irish attacked, and some of them got hurt.”

“Salvatore’s men are extremely loyal to him. He respects their loyalty. Maybe even cares about them in his own way.” She leans forward and takes my hand. “But he doesn’t feel anything for anyone.”

“Of course he does.” I blink at her. “He’s not a fucking statue. Yes, he sometimes has weird reactions, but... he loves you. You’re his mom.”

“Salvatore cares about me, yes.” Her eyes crease in a sad smile. “Will you call him, as he asked?”

“He hasn’t actually asked. It was more like a demand.” I smirk. “But he said please, so yes.”

“He said please...,” she mutters, then squeezes my hand. “I’m going to check on Alessandro.”

As she takes her coat and purse, I wonder if this might be the weirdest interaction I’ve ever experienced.

Chapter 19

There are four guards in front of the safe house tonight, which is expected, considering how many people are coming.

“Boss.” They nod in unison as I pass them, the one closest to me opening the door.

Nino’s waiting by the window in the first room, nursing a drink, while Aldo and Stefano are sitting at the table in the corner but quickly rise as soon as they see me.

“Did Tomaso talk?” I ask.

“He gave us everything within the hour.” Aldo motions with his hand toward the door on the right. “Do you want to talk to him, Boss?”

“No. How badly did you rough him up?”

“Three fingers missing. Some beating. He was relatively easy to break.”

I nod and scan my surroundings. “Get me one chair in the middle of the room. Do you have pliers and heavy-duty scissors?”

Aldo looks at me with confusion in his eyes, but then collects himself. “Would gardening shears do?”

“Yes.”

The phone in my pocket vibrates. As I take it out, some of the anxiety that’s been building begins to ebb.

“Milene.”

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