Page 68 of Forgotten Deeds

“Have fun, rainbow goddess.” Darius kisses the top of Iris’ head before ushering me out the door.

“I’m worried Iris took the news about her dad a little too well,” I comment as we back out of the garage.

“Everyone processes things differently,” Darius says. “But from what I’m getting, she wasn’t very close to the guy. Maybe it’s a normal reaction,” he suggests.

“Maybe. I just hate leaving her for a second time today,” I admit, guilt washing over me.

“Iris seemed fine at the park. Besides, Kat is great with her,” he reassures me.

“Yeah, she is,” I agree. “So tell me again who’s going to be at dinner?” I ask, nerves replacing the guilt.

“Romeo and his fiancée, Nicky. Romeo’s little sister, Valentina, and his grandma—who we all call Nonna. Sammy; also goes by Sam. He’s usually a dickhead, so don’t take it personal if he’s rude. And Luca, though he probably won’t be there because he’s recovering from an injury.”

“What kind of injury?” I wonder.

He shrugs. “Work-related.”

“Like your ‘little scrape?’” I ask, but he doesn’t answer. And I have my answer.

We enter the wealthiest suburb of Newark, with the homes getting more and more extravagant by the second. Darius turns onto an unmarked road, until I realize it’s not a road, but a private driveway.

We pull up to a gate with a man in a guard booth. “Afternoon, Mr. Angelo. Mrs. Angelo.”

“Afternoon,” Darius answers as the man walks around our SUV with a German Shepard on a leash.

The guard returns to Darius’ window. “I need to scan all electronics, please.”

“Hand me your phones, Lily,” Darius tells me, and I do as instructed. Darius hands them to the guard, who runs a wand-looking thing over them before returning them. I try not to let my mouth fall open when Darius hands over four phones, a radio of some sort, and two pagers.

“All clear,” the guard says, handing back all of my husband’s electronics. He returns to the booth, opening the gate for us.

“Is this type of security the norm?” I wonder.

“The norm for now,” Darius says, whatever that means.

We continue down a seemingly endless driveway until we reach a mansion plucked straight from the Amalfi Coast. “Wow, this is something. It’s a good thing Iris isn’t with us; she’d already be splashing in the fountain.”

He chuckles. “Understandable.”

Opening my door for me, Darius helps me out and escorts me to the front door. As soon as he rings the doorbell, an older woman with white hair and a weathered face appears. Dressed in a black tracksuit and sneakers, she says something lively in Italian to Darius, who returns something with a laugh.

“Nonna, this is my wife, Lily.” Darius introduces us.

“Hello,” I say.

“Ciao.” She pulls me in for a double cheek kiss. “You bring your daughter next time,” she tells me excitedly.

“Thank you.” Let’s see how terrifying this experience is before I commit to that.

“Come. Come. I’ve left Valentina in the kitchen.” She mutters something in Italian as we follow her inside the palatial home.

We reach the family room, where a man with downturned lips is speaking on the phone. Ending his call, his cold, hard eyes land on me as he rises, joining us. Darius must sense my nerves, because he gives my hand a reassuring squeeze before letting go. The two men fist bump. “Boss, this is my wife, Lily,” Darius says, his hand now resting on my lower back.

“Hello, Lily. I’m Romeo Parisi. Welcome.” He extends his hand.

“Thank you,” I manage, shaking his big hand with my clammy one.

A raven-haired beauty radiating confidence glides into the room. She looks familiar, but I can’t put my finger on where I’ve seen her before.

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