“Before you jump to conclusions and call Ryan, because you know he’ll lose his mind, why don’t we wait until you talk to your mom’s cousin.”
From behind the driver’s wheel, I looked over at the woman attempting to be my voice of reason amid my chaotic thoughts, all ending in savagely destroying the man responsible for endangering Maria and Natalia this morning. “Yeah? Then text your sister and ask her if she or Ryan told anyone what went down. That’s the only way anything could get back to Thomas, especially with him being out of town this morning. If their answer is no, then case closed.”
“Maybe he stopped by my building when he came home and someone there told him about what happened?”
“We didn’t report it to the police. No one else lives on our floor. No one else would know,” I quickly reminded her.
“Fine, I’ll message Natalia,” she shot back like a challenge and quickly worked her fingers over her phone. And her shoulders fell when a response came back.
I didn’t need to see the message to know the answer. “I should’ve considered this sooner.” I slammed the heel of my hand against the wheel before making a sharp turn. Sheets of rain hammered the streets, and the storm hadn’t been in the mood to let up as I’d driven to Long Island.
I’d already grabbed my new phone from the store, and we were only a few minutes away from my parents’ place in Oyster Bay Cove.
“Thomas was pissed at our exchange yesterday,” I went on, “and he knew I’d be home at that hour. With Chiara safely away with him, he chose today for his payback. He wanted my hands broken so I couldn’t cook. Couldn’t touch you.”
“We still don’t know for certain.” Her soothing tone failed to relieve the tension coiling tight in my body. “How would Thomas know anyone in the mafia? He manages people’s money.”
“He has shady clients who have connections. I can see him reaching out to some fucker he golfs with for a recommendation.”
“How do you know about his clients? Who says they’re shady?” She let go of her phone to slam her arms over her chest, and was she defending that asshole? Or just trying to keep me from losing the last bit of sanity I had left?
I was so angry right now, all I wanted to do was pull over and shove her dress up to see if she wasn’t wearing panties as I’d ordered and fuck her right there. But fucking the anger out of the both of us would accomplish nothing. I’d still be pissed because I hated her ex, and the fact she could’ve been hurt because of him only had my veins burning. And secondly, Maria deserved better than our first time in a car because I’d become unhinged.
I stopped at the red light and twisted in my seat to better face my fireball. Her cheeks were flushed, and her lips taunted me, begging to be kissed.
“You do realize there’s no chance in hell I wouldn’t run a thorough background check on Thomas while you were married, right?” I finally spoke, willing my dick to go down and with Thomas’s name on my tongue, I assumed it’d help ease the pressure there. “Do you think I’d let you stay with a man I didn’t deem safe?”
Her lips parted, but she didn’t gift me with her soft words or her sass.
“So yes, based on the fact he knew what happened this morning, it has to be Thomas who sent the wrong fucking people to my apartment and not someone connected to Bianca’s murder.” I’d been so angry about Bianca’s death and the fact Maria had been in danger I could barely see straight. And this woman distracted me to no end, that was abundantly clear.
“I just can’t imagine Thomas would do this. It’s so out of character for him.”
“Men do crazy things for the women they love. And he messed up and lost the best thing to ever happen to him. Hell, he lost his mind when he saw me at your place,” I explained as calmly as possible, needing to dial down my pulse before we faced my parents.
“That doesn’t mean he loves me.” Her shoulders slumped, and the honking behind me had me pulling through the green light.
“And if he does? Does it matter?” I had no clue why I asked that. Jealousy again? What the fuck? My heart and brain were rarely in sync, but they were on the same page when it came to her.
“You of all people know the answer to that already.”
I didn’t look her way, but I knew she was rolling her eyes at my stupid question, and I deserved it.
“But by checking on me, he just made himself look guilty. Why would he do that?”
Fair point. But I had my theories. “He hoped you wouldn’t be at my place at seven in the morning when they attacked. And when he heard you were, he was more than likely worried he nearly got you killed. That’s probably why he really came home early. He wants you back, Maria. He never wanted the divorce.”
“Even if he didn’t cheat, our marriage wouldn’t have survived, not with . . .”
With me in your life?
“I don’t know. I guess it’s all possible,” she said in a flat tone that time. “Shady clients. Cheating. I guess you never really know a person.”
Why’d that last part sting so much?
Before I could smother her with more reasons why I believed Thomas was a world-class dick, she continued. “If Thomas is responsible, it’s obviously bad, but it also means we’re not in danger.”
We were potentially still in danger with the cleaner on the loose, but I didn’t want to scare her about that right now. One issue at a time.
“There’s no ‘if’ it was Thomas. I know you don’t want to think that about him because he’s still the father of your child, and you’re worried what this means I’ll do to him, but—”
“Or Ryan,” she whispered, concerned how her brother-in-law would react to the news as well, and I knew he’d be out for blood.
“Listen,” I said on a sigh, trying to be gentle with her when my every instinct wanted to unleash the monster inside me and torture Thomas for what he was putting her through with such a stupid move as to come after me. “This was my mother’s cousin’s way of smoking out the name. He made sure the message was sent out that the job went sideways. And now Giovanni can follow that text trail. It’ll probably lead to a middleman, Thomas’s client, and then it’ll lead to Thomas.”
She unlocked her arms and went for her phone. “Then I should tell Natalia she’s safe,” she said, finally accepting the truth. “I don’t want her unnecessarily worrying.”
“Call them. Speakerphone, though. I need to talk to Ryan to prevent him from going to jail.”
“And leaving Chiara with only one parent.”
I bit back my desire to say, I’ll be her father, and remained quiet as she phoned Natalia.
“Hey, I assume Ryan’s attached to your hip since this morning. Can you put me on speaker?” Maria asked once Natalia answered. “You’re on speaker as well,” she added, and I knew that was to ensure Natalia didn’t say anything she wouldn’t want me to hear.
“What’s going on?” Natalia asked, and Maria looked to me, a silent plea to share the ugly truth for her.
“You may not need to call for backup, Ryan,” I shared as I turned down my parents’ street, catching sight of their waterfront property at the edge of the dead-end road.
“Because this morning was probably about me,” Maria decided to finish for me, guilt in her tone. “We think Thomas was jealous and hired those guys to go after Enzo.”
“What?” both Natalia and Ryan snapped at the same time.
I shot a quick look at Maria, slowing my speed, since we were driving by houses now. At least the rain had finally let up.
“Thomas knew what happened this morning. There’s no way he could’ve known, since we didn’t tell anyone,” I explained. “My guess is he asked one of his less-than-reputable clients for a contact outside the state he thought would never connect to him.”
“And he wound up the unluckiest son of a bitch on the planet anyway,” Ryan hissed. “Where is he right now?”
“He came home early, and my parents are meeting him to pick up Chiara and babysit. He’s got a work emergency, so he’s about to leave town. But please, don’t go after him. Not yet, at least. Just don’t do anything until I’m back. We’ll handle this together.” That was the best I could do for now. Delay his need for justice, because there wasn’t a chance in hell Thomas would walk away from this unscathed.
“Fine,” Ryan slowly remarked, but I knew his wheels were spinning, and he’d be pacing the floor with anger the second we hung up.
“Does that mean you’re coming back home, Maria?” Natalia asked as I punched in the gate code to my parents’ home.
“No, I’m not. I’ll just be gone for a few days. But I need to be here. Can you help Mom and Dad with Chiara? Keep everyone blissfully ignorant as to why I’m here?” she answered before I had a chance to summon a response.
“Yeah, uh, okay,” Natalia hesitantly agreed.
“We’re at his parents’ now, so I need to go. I’m just so sorry my stupid ex did this. We’ll talk later.” Maria ended the call before anyone could protest, and she shoved her phone into her purse in a hurry.
“You really want to be here? You’re ready for this?” I asked while parking.
“Put on a smile and act like the world’s not on fire? Sure, I took a theater class in college. Totally sucked at it, but you know . . . here’s my chance for a do-over.”
“Theater, huh?”
“Yeah, don’t ask. Like I said, I suckity-sucked at it.”
How did she have me wanting to smile right now?
“And wow. I mean, wow.” She sat taller when setting her eyes upon the home. While unbuckling, her purse fell to the floor. “This place looks like the midcentury had a baby with the contemporary.” She was talking with her hands, and when her gaze caught mine for a moment, I loved the way her eyes lit up.
“You have an eye for architectural design.”
“I suck at graphic design. And I can’t draw, you know that. Give me a ruler, and I’ll draw you a crooked line.”
“That doesn’t mean you can’t appreciate art,” I reminded her.
Also, why hadn’t we ever had that conversation before? We’d spent almost every day together this past year. Of course, we’d mostly been at work, because I usually did my best to avoid being alone in her apartment with her; otherwise, I’d have slipped my hand down her panties long ago. Clearly, my control around her was as flimsy as a piece of notebook paper floating in the wind. It’d be gone-gone-fucking-gone.
“True,” she finally answered as her smile met her eyes. “When I see a good thing in front of me, it’s hard not to notice.”
“Yeah, I can relate.” My gaze fell to her thighs, and I couldn’t help but wonder if she was without her panties. What is wrong with me?
When her legs pinned together, it felt like she was blinking a yellow caution light. A reminder to behave and focus, and apparently I needed that. She truly was a distraction.
I scratched my chin, my facial hair in that irritating not-yet-a-beard stage.
“How, um, big is this place?” Her nerves stretched her words out, somehow making every innocent thing she said sexy.
“I think it’s about fifteen thousand square feet. Only seven bedrooms, though. Either you’ll bunk with Izzy, or Mom will let her stay with her boyfriend and you’ll have your own room.” But knowing my mom, she’d never let Izzy share a bed while unmarried. “Mom won’t let anyone stay in Bianca’s old room.”
Maria visibly shivered, her gaze going back to the driveway full of cars. “Looks like a luxury car dealership,” she said, clearly opting for a subject change, and I didn’t blame her. “The Lamborghini is Alessandro’s, right?” I didn’t follow her eyes and instead, slung my forearm over the wheel and studied her. A shy sweep of red climbed up her throat, nearly hiding the slight bruises I’d given her from kissing her a bit too roughly. “And the Maserati is classy and sophisticated. Constantine’s?” Without waiting for my answer, she went on. “The Tesla has to be Izzy’s. She probably cares about the environment.” She frowned and tugged at the long sleeves of her red dress. “Not saying the rest of you don’t, but Izzy—”
“Izzy is Izzy,” I finished with a smile. “Yeah.”
“But the truck? That’s a curveball. I mean, it’s a nice one. But doesn’t feel like something a Costa would drive.”
A Costa, huh? I looked over at the truck on the other side of the curved brick driveway, which had one of Italy’s iconic pine trees at the center. Bianca had said that tree always reminded her of something from a Dr. Seuss book, tall and skinny with a thick canopy of needles high up.
And there went my heart. Hammering. Hard. Heavy. Fast.
“That’s Hudson’s. Constantine must’ve invited him to dinner,” I shared, knowing she was about to ask some follow-up questions to that.
“Why does that name sound familiar?”
I arched a brow. “Our first kiss was in his office.”
Her mouth rounded in surprise. “The bar. Right.” She looked back to the house when asking, “And why would Constantine ask him to come when you need to tell your parents about Bianca?”
“Because Hudson was with us the day we murdered her killer.” I closed my eyes. “Well, who we thought was her killer.”
