Page 16 of The Fixer

“One of Santini’s goons, probably.”

I swallow. “Already?”

“Hmm.” He squeezes my hand. “They’ve agreed to a truce,” he says into my ear. “The consequences of breaking it are severe. So wipe that expression of fear off your face, principessa.”

Easier said than done. I imagine that I can feel the mafia hitman staring at the back of my head, and it freaks me out. My mother’s standing in the doorway of the house, a clear target for a straygunshot. I want to scream at her to go inside. Shut the curtains and barricade the doors as if that’ll serve as a deterrent for the people determined to kill us all.

I cling to Leo for another greedy second, wishing I could absorb his strength just by hugging him. I’m trembling, and Leo can undoubtedly feel my terror. He hugs me back, his hand stroking the small of my back. “Antonio and I are meeting Rocco Santini at midnight,” he says, his voice gentle. “We’re going to sort this out. You’ll be safe, Rosa. You have my word.”

I need to pull myself together. Leo comforting me isn’t part of our deal, and I don’t want to ask for more than he’s prepared to offer. I take a deep breath and pull away from him. “Sorry. Momentary freakout. It won’t happen again.”

“You have nothing to apologize for.”

He turns to leave, and I stop him with a hand on his arm. “Leo. This meeting at midnight. . . You must have done something this dangerous dozens of times, and it’s probably ridiculous to tell you to be careful, but please, be careful.”

A strange expression fills his face. “You’re worried about me?”

What a strange question. “Of course I am.”

He studies my face. “You’re not lying,” he says, astonished. “You really are worried. I think it’s thefirst time anyone’s been concerned for me.” His big hand cups my jaw, and his ocean-blue eyes soften. “I’ll be fine. Sleep well, principessa. I’ll see you tomorrow morning.”

I’m readyingfor bed when there’s a knock at the door. It’s Hugh. “Do you have a minute, ch??”

“Sure.” He’s got to have a million questions about my sham marriage, and I have just as many about what the hell he’s gotten himself into. Hopefully, the lobster put him in a talkative mood.

He comes into the room and sinks onto my bed. “Who is Leo?” he asks. “And how were we safe enough to go out for dinner?”

“He’s the head of security for the Venice Mafia.” I tell my brother everything I know, which isn’t a lot. “The truce is in effect until midnight. I’ll know more tomorrow after Leo’s meeting.”

“You can’t marry him,” he bursts out. “I can’t let you sacrifice your life for me.”

I was afraid he’d say something like this. If Hugh thinks even for a second that I’m having any misgivings,he’s going to blow up the entire deal. “Hugh,” I say briskly. “Come on. Look at the guy. Being married to him isn’t going to be a hardship.”

He studies me carefully. “You like him, don’t you?”

Sometimes, I really wish I had a poker face. “Yup, I do.”

“He likes you too.” His glance falls to my ring. “That’s a huge diamond.”

“It cost two hundred thousand euros,” I reply, taking it off so my brother can take a closer look. Hugh went through a gemstone phase as a teenager. “The sales guy in the store nearly had an aneurysm when Leo whipped out his credit card.”

He brings the diamond closer to his nose. “You saw the receipt?”

“I caught a glimpse of it. Why?”

“No reason.” He hands the ring back to me, a small smile playing on his lips. “He likes you too, you know. You should have seen the way he looked at you at dinner. And he kept jumping to your defense.” He laughs. “He nearly punched me when I teased you about the lobster. I was wondering how he’d react.”

Hugh did that deliberately? My brother really has a death wish. “You’re lucky he didn’t punch you.”I should stop there, but a stupid, romantic part of me keeps going. “How did he look at me?”

“Like he can‘t quite believe he gets to be with you.”

I wish. If Leo looks like he’s been hit by a boulder, it’s probably because he’s wondering how the hell he’s been roped into marriage with me. Not to mention two to three years of celibacy.

That’s Future-Rosa’s problem. Right now, I have my brother to worry about. I sit down on the bed next to him and lean on his shoulder. “Ten million euros, Hugh. Did you invest it in the stock market? In crypto? What happened? How did you lose that much money?”

His eyes drop away from me, and he worries the fringe on my bedspread. “It’s complicated.”

My stomach sinks. If Hugh’s being evasive, that’s not a good sign. I have a bad feeling that there’s a lot more going on than he’s letting on. But maybe I’m just being paranoid. After all, it’s been a very difficult day. Maybe I’m imagining it.

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