Page 105
I closed my eyes as bile surged up my throat.
Luca’s hand found and squeezed mine again, a surprising gesture for someone who had never before given me comfort. “Hey, do you think Lo Spettro will let that happen? Do you think you will?”
My smile was wan, but it felt good to hear he felt that way.
“You might not love this family, but you’re loyal,” he continued, as if it was the highest praise. “Loyalty, duty, and honor, hmm?”
“Always,” I agreed, but we both shared the same wry expression, wondering what the cost was for adhering to the motto.
“Whoever has him didn’t expect me,” he explained. “They didn’t count on an exact replica showing up in their abducted capo’s place, so we have them on the ropes even if we don’t know where the fuck they are. It’s bought us—Dario—time. I intend to use it wisely.”
“Where do we start?” I asked, feeling a low curl of excitement in my belly. The thrill of a hunt on the horizon always did that to me.
Luca’s eyes sparkled like sunlight on ice. “I take you out on a date.”
Chapter Twenty-Six
Fiammetta
“Knock, knock.”
I looked up from my makeup vanity as I finished applying the last coat of mascara to my lashes to see my mother-in-law lingering in the doorway. She was wearing a simple but stunning black sheath with an enormous cluster of diamonds at either ear as if she was going to a gala. It was hard to say. Carla habitually dressed opulently, the perfect wife to the billionaire business gentleman that Lando had always played at being.
“Hello, darling,” she said with a warm smile. “Can I come in?”
I inclined my head for her to take a seat on the velvet bench behind me before I swiveled back to my reflection and grabbed my lipstick.
Carla’s duplicitousness didn’t feel as personal as Bonnie’s, but I was still close to my mother-in-law and had taken comfort from her pseudomaternal role in my life after a lifetime without my own mother. If she wanted to talk, she could lead the way.
Sensing my distaste only enhanced Cerberus’s own, and he snapped at her from where he lay curled on the carpet at my feet, a snake waiting to strike in the grass. Carla flinched, her eyes narrowing, but I didn’t pause to reprimand my Doberman or reassure her.
Luca had told me to be ready at seven thirty on the nose, which only gave me fifteen minutes to make myself presentable after visiting the dojo that evening after work. My hair was freshly blown out, thick and voluminous in big curls around my shoulders and back, and I only had to finish my lipstick and spritz perfume before I got into my dress for the evening.
“Darling,” Carla said after a moment and then hesitated again. “I’m sorry you had to find out this way.”
“This way, or at all?” I reprimanded lightly.
Carla pursed her lips, a habit her son Luca had picked up. “Well, no one was ever meant to know. I don’t believe they ever planned on telling you. There was no point, you see. They might not have even thought of it. They play their roles so well they don’t even think about it anymore.”
“Two men playing the same role,” I confirmed as I carefully smeared lip gloss over the deep red I’d painted over my wide mouth. Once, an admirer had told me I looked feline, and it struck me then as I studied my black winged liner that made my eyes look long and accentuated the way they tipped up just slightly at the corners. “It’s a brilliant idea, Carla, I’ll give you that.”
She clutched at the black pearls around her neck, playing with the long strand in a nervous way she was prone to do whenever there was conflict. “I can’t take credit, of course. I wouldn’t want to. Lando saw an opportunity and, as you said, it was brilliant, so . . .” She shrugged helplessly.
“So you let one of your sons play dead and had him trained in secret to murder your enemies,” I said drolly.
Her mouth thinned, and a flash of irritation crossed her pretty face. “You of all people should know that sacrifices are demanded in a life like ours. We are not always willing to make them, but we must.”
I knew all about sacrifice, but I still couldn’t imagine a world where I would let my husband rip my son out from under my care and hand him off to some shadow realm to become something more of a monster than a man.
“Is Luca the reason you were so calm when Dario disappeared?” I asked, getting up to brush by her on my way to the walk-in closet.
I fingered the dress that Gertie had hung up for me earlier that day.
“That’s not one of mine,” I’d protested, frowning at the black minidress as I moved into her space to examine it closer.
“Your husband had it sent over from the boutique you went to the other day,” Gertie said with a breathless giggle. “He said, and I’m quoting, ‘Fiammetta’s legs could kill a man in this dress.’”
I rolled my lips between my teeth to hide my smile. The dress was undeniably short with a structured A-line skirt, a nipped-in waist, and a square neckline that sharpened to points under each collarbone. An exquisite dress from my favorite designer, Saint Aubyn.
