Page 34 of The Fixer

Valentina’s daughter is alive because of Del Barba. The Kingmaker is ruthless, but when he gives his word, he keeps it.

“I won’t throw Guerra out of Venice,” I reply. “Anything beyond that, he’s on his own. But hearthis, Ciro. If any harm comes toanyof the Tran family, our arrangement is off.”

“Deal,” he says promptly. “Thank you for your cooperation, Cesari. You’re sure you don’t want to work for me?”

Come into my parlor, said the spider to the fly.“I’m happy in Venice,” I say lightly. “Why would I work for the Kingmaker when I can work for the King?”

Ciro laughs, amused. “It’s not the person on the throne that wields the power, Leo. It’s the person behind it. You’ll realize that one day.”

I turnMax loose and head back to Santa Croce. My thoughts are bleak. Events are moving around me, and I feel like a pawn on a chessboard. But more than that, I feel like I’m watching a train wreck in slow motion, helpless to do anything to avert it.

Had Goran not called when he did, I would have slept with Rosa tonight. I was ready to fuck her on her cutting table; I was ready to take her to my bed.

But I can’t.I shouldn’t.

This isn’t just about sex. I haven’t been a monksince Patrizia died. I’ve fucked plenty of other women and spent a reasonable amount of time at Casanova, Venice’s fanciest sex club. If my desire for Rosa was purely carnal, I could deal with it. But it isn’t. I like Rosa. I find myself thinking about her at odd times of the day. Her nickname for me makes me laugh. And tonight, when one of the guys in her class tossed her on the floor in a practice exercise, it took all my willpower to keep from punching him in the face.

And that affection toward her, combined with the intense, all-consuming chemistry. . . If I’m not careful, I could very easily find myself falling in love with Rosa Tran.

Twenty years ago, my wife was collateral damage in a war that had nothing to do with her. Patrizia wasn’t part of the Mafia; it was her association with me that cost her life.

And now Rosa is tied to me. If she marries me, she’s at risk, always in danger because she’s my wife. If she doesn’t marry me, her brother dies. Talk about a fucking Catch-22.

I don’t know how to fix this. But I need to stay the hell away from her. Because if I were to fall in love with Rosa and something were to happen to her, I wouldn’t be able to survive it.

It’s almostone in the morning, but the light is on in one of the front windows, and when I let myself in, Rosa is sitting on the couch in the living room. “You’re still awake.”

“I tried to sleep but couldn’t, so I gave up.” She gives me a small, tentative smile. “I was worried.”

“About me?” My heart flutters, and I squash the reaction. Fuck. It would be so easy to give in to this. She’s offering me her warmth and her love, and it would be so easy to take it. So easyand so wrong.“I’ve already told you, principessa. You don’t need to be.” My voice is harsh, vicious, and cold. “Nobody is watching us here, so there’s no need for you to pretend. This isn’t a real marriage, and we’ll both do well remembering that.”

Her expression turns stricken. Hot guilt slices through me.I’m sorry,I want to say. I’m a wounded animal, lashing out at you because you’re a convenient target. I didn’t mean to hurt you.

But I don’t say any of that. Instead, I go to bed.

Alone.

18

ROSA

I’m done with Leo. He was all in until he went to his meeting, and when he got back home, he rejected me? Done. Totally,absolutelydone with his mixed messages.

Or,a logical voice points out,something at that meeting freaked him out.

Hmm. Okay, that could be a reasonable explanation. Or maybe it‘s not, and I‘m just fooling myself. Either way, I need to be careful with my heart.

Because Leo Cesari could break it without even trying.

I don‘t sleep well. At six, I give up the struggle and get out of bed. Leo is nowhere to be seen. I wander down to the kitchen and open the refrigerator,not expecting very much, but to my surprise, I find food there: eggs, cheddar, tomatoes, basil, and more. More of Marta’s magic.

I make myself a cup of coffee and start chopping onions.

Leo comes downstairs half an hour later. From the dark circles around his eyes, he hasn‘t slept either, and I feel a surge of sympathy for him. Last week, he was just living his life. Six days later, everything has been turned completely upside down. At least I‘m getting something out of this deal. My brother doesn’t get killed by the mob. I still don‘t see what Leo gets.

I pour him a cup of coffee. “Do you want breakfast? I made plenty for both of us.”

“Does the stove even work?”

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