After taking a long bath and getting dressed in a pair of jeans, a T-shirt, and a light cardigan, I creep out of the main bedroom.
It feels like I’m trespassing.
I glance over the wrought iron banister, and not seeing anyone, I sneak from bedroom to bedroom, taking a look around the mansion that’s now my home.
Cautiously, I head down the stairs while my eyes flit around. The décor is modern, and everything feels expensive.
When I step into the living room, I see Tiny sitting on one of the couches.
His eyes snap to me, then a crooked grin forms on his face. “Morning, Mrs. Rizzo.”
“Morning,” I whisper. I swallow on the dryness in my throat before asking, “Where’s the kitchen?”
He points to the left. “Through there.”
“Thank you.”
When I step into a state-of-the-art kitchen, there’s a woman who seems to be in her late fifties or early sixties. I suck at guessing someone’s age.
Her eyes flit to me, and for a very uncomfortable moment, she looks me up and down.
“Morning,” I say, the awkwardness I’m feeling visible in my tone.
Slowly, a smile spreads over her face, then she walks closer to me. “Morning, Mrs. Rizzo. Welcome to the mansion. I’m Rita, Mr. Rizzo’s housekeeper.” She lets out a chuckle. “Your housekeeper as well.” She waves a hand around the kitchen. “I do everything you require of me.”
“Ah…just call me Tori,” I say because I’m not comfortable with the title Mrs. Rizzo. It’s going to take some time getting used to my marital status. I gesture at the coffee pot. “Can I have some?”
Her eyebrows fly up, and she rushes closer. Gripping hold of my forearm, she gives me a friendly smile. “This is your household, Tori. You don’t have to ask for anything.”
A sudden burst of emotion in my chest makes my breath hitch.
I’ve been through so much the past twenty-four hours, and just because Rita is kind to me causes tears to burn in my eyes.
I wave a hand in front of my face while blinking like crazy to hold the tears back. “I’m sorry. Everything is overwhelming.”
She rubs a hand up and down my bicep and gives me a compassionate look. “You don’t have to apologize. I understand.” Stepping away from me, she heads to the coffee pot. “How do you like your coffee?”
“Two sugars and cream, please.”
I manage to regain control over my chaotic emotions, and walking closer to her, I ask, “I know you’re the housekeeper, but will it be okay if I prepare dinners?”
Her eyes dart to my face. “Of course. I’m here to make life easier for you. If you want to change anything, just let me know so I don’t step on your toes.”
Gosh, she’s lovely.
I have a sudden urge to hug Rita, but fist my hands at my sides because that would be weird, seeing as I just met her.
When she hands me a cup of steaming coffee, I almost groan with relief. I take a few sips, savoring the goodness, then murmur, “Thank you so much.”
“You’re welcome.” Her gaze keeps drifting over my face, then she blurts out, “You’re beautiful. I can see why Mr. Rizzo married you.”
My cheeks warm from her compliment. “Thank you.” Wanting to form a relationship with her so I won’t be alone in this huge mansion, I say, “I hope we can become friends.”
Her smile widens until it reaches her dark brown eyes. “I’d like that too.”
Meeting Rita makes me feel a little better after all the craziness I’ve been put through.
The comfortable bubble pops as Tiny comes into the kitchen. Where I startle at his sudden appearance, Rita remains relaxed.
His eyes come to a rest on me. “Mr. Rizzo said I need to take you to the store. What time would you like to leave?”
I glance down at the cup in my hand before I answer, “As soon as I’m done with my coffee?”
I didn’t mean for it to come out sounding like a question, but Tiny intimidates the hell out of me.
I mean, I’ve seen the man drag a body away like it was nothing but a sack of potatoes.
“Okay.” He proceeds to walk to the fridge, and opening the door, he helps himself to a bottle of water.
He seems comfortable in the mansion, and it makes me hope I’ll feel the same way soon.
Whether I like it or not, this place is now my home.
As soon as Tiny leaves the kitchen, I move closer to the fridge. I take a look at everything so I can plan what to prepare for dinner.
As I shut the door, I glance at Rita, who’s leaning against a counter while watching me with a soft smile.
“What are Mr. Rizzo’s favorite meals?”
She shrugs. “He’s seldom home for dinner, so you can make whatever you’re in the mood for.”
I feel a flicker of relief, knowing I probably won’t see much of Angelo.
“What time do you go home?” I ask out of curiosity.
“I work from seven a.m. to four p.m.”
I nod before I finish the last of my coffee, then my gaze searches for the sink. Noticing an arch, I head toward it and find a dishwasher. I quickly rinse my cup before placing it in the appliance.
Taking a deep breath, I smile at Rita before I leave the kitchen so I can go to the main bedroom to get my handbag and the credit card.
Staring at the wide selection of cell phones, I nibble on my bottom lip.
Which one do I choose?
Tiny’s fiddling with the latest Samsung phone, and when he catches me watching him, he puts it down. “Which one do you want?”
I lift a shoulder and let out a huff. “I suck when it comes to technology. I just want something so I can send texts and make calls.”
He picks up the Samsung again and moves closer to me. “You should take this one. The quality is pretty good, and it’s easy to use.”
“Okay.”
A grin spreads over his face, then he asks, “What color do you want?”
“Ah…what do I get to choose from?”
“Lime, silver, violet, and graphite.”
My eyebrows draw together. “What’s graphite?”
Tiny lets out an amused chuckle. “It’s a dark grayish color.”
“Uhm…” I nibble on my bottom lip while I think about which one I should choose, then say, “I’ll take the violet one.”
He gives me a pleased smile. “Good choice, Mrs. Rizzo.”
“Tori,” I blurt out, but then I quickly explain, “I’m not used to Mrs. Rizzo. Just call me Tori.”
He nods, then signals for an attendant to assist us.
I let Tiny handle all the technical work while I stick close to his side.
During the drive to the store, he made it clear that I’m never to leave his sight. I don’t want to make him angry, so I’m doing as I’m told.
It takes a freaking long time before we finally get taken to the counter so we can pay. I dig the credit card out of my wallet, but when I see the price, my mouth drops open.
Angelo will kill me if I spend so much.
My eyes fly to Tiny’s face, and leaning closer, I whisper, “It’s too expensive. Angelo will get angry.”
He frowns at me as he shakes his head. “No, he won’t. He ordered me to make sure you get a cell phone.”
“Yes, but not one that’s so expensive!” I feel a twinge of panic and shake my head hard at the cashier. “Sorry, I have to choose a different phone.”
“Give us a moment,” Tiny tells the cashier before he takes hold of my hand and tugs me to the side. He pulls his phone from his pocket and dials a number. “Mr. Rizzo, can you tell Tori it’s okay if she gets an expensive phone? She’s very worried.”
Nooooo!
Oh God.
Crap.
Why did he do that?
A second later, the device is shoved into my hands.
An icy fear coats my skin, and my heartbeat explodes into a frantic fluttering in my chest.
With a trembling hand, I place the phone against my ear. My words are nothing but a squeak as I say, “I’m sorry. I didn’t think Tiny was going to call you.”
Angelo’s voice sounds like a destructive storm is brewing when he asks, “Did I not say I don’t want you asking my permission whenever you have to buy something?”
I feel like crying, and swallowing hard, I whisper, “Yes.”
‘Please. I’m sorry,’ I hear a man’s voice pleading in the background.
Shock vibrates through me, and my breath stalls in my throat as the blood drains from my face.
“Then buy the fucking phone,” Angelo orders.
Right before he hangs up on me, I hear something that sounds a lot like a gunshot.
Nauseated from all the fear and shock, I lower the phone, and luckily, Tiny takes it from me before I drop the device because I’m shaking badly.
As if he’s in a tunnel, I hear him ask, “What did he say?”
Stuck in a terrified trance, I can only shake my head.
Tiny folds his mountain of a body in half to meet my eyes. Concern etches a deep frown on his forehead, then he mutters, “Jesus.”
I’m taken by my arm and tugged back to the counter, where Tiny completes the purchase before ushering me out of the store.
Did I just overhear Angelo killing a man?
Only when I’m bundled into the backseat, and Tiny is behind the steering wheel does he ask, “What happened?”
My eyes meet his in the rearview mirror. “I think I heard Angelo shoot a man right before he hung up on me.”
Tiny lets out a relieved sigh before he mutters, “That’s what happens if you steal from the boss.”
I wrap my arms around my waist, and lowering my head, I close my eyes.
I don’t think I’ll ever get used to all the violence in the Cosa Nostra.
