Chapter 37
Dante
The lemon grove is quiet when I enter it.
I didn’t have to search for Lucia. I knew where she’d be the instant Giovanni showed me the note.
She told Valentina to meet her here if she wanted help to flee.
The suggested time is earlier than suggested, but once I saw Camille alone, the groves called me to them.
My chest tightens when I spot Lucia in the bottom row, closest to the road. Her shoulders shake as she glares down at her phone, her hope barely held together by a thread.
When a twig snapping under my foot alerts her to my presence, she spins to face me. Her expression guts me. It’s brimming with devastation and fear.
“Dante… what are you doing here?” She wipes at her cheeks, endeavoring to erase the evidence that she’s upset before I can see it.
It’s too late for that.
“Did someone hurt you?”
Her brows furrow as some of her panic shifts to confusion. “No. I just…”
When her words trail off, the context of the note plagues me with insecurities. “Weren’t expecting me?”
She’s lost until I show her the note scribbled messily in her handwriting.
Shame floods her eyes when I say, “Giovanni will never hurt Valentina. She’s here because she wants to be here.”
“I know that,” she whispers, her lips quivering. “I saw them together at breakfast… gosh.”
“Then why did you give her the note?”
Her expression tells me she wants to be anywhere else, but since her options are limited, her feet remain planted. “That was before…” Her lips twitch, but no other words come out.
“Before?” I ask, pushing for more, needing more.
“Before I…” Her following words come out with a disbelieving chuckle. “Before I realized I was falling for you.” A fat, salty blob dots her cheek. “But none of that matters now. Nothing matters except…” A sob gargles the remainder of her reply.
As she blinks back tears, her breath stutters.
She appears seconds from collapse. I reach her in two strides, and although she doesn’t fall, there are only pieces of her for me to clutch.
She’s broken. Destroyed. Her fragileness is so high I’m afraid I may break her beyond repair if I clutch her too hard.
Her tremors run through my body when I hold her close, sheltering her from the pain wreaking havoc with more than her emotions. “What happened?”
After shaking her head, she hides her terrified eyes in my pecs. I’m afraid the walls we tore down are building faster than I can knock them down until she says, “I can’t tell you.”
There’s a big difference between can’t and don’t want to.
“Lucia—”
“No,” she says, reading me as only she can. I was about to tell her those rules don’t apply to her anymore. “I can’t. If I say something, he’ll…”
A gut-wrenching hiccup finalizes her reply, but I keep pressing. I can’t protect her if I have no clue what is hurting her.
“I know you’re married, so if that’s what this is about, you can stop now.
I don’t give a fuck what that piece of paper is meant to signify.
If you don’t want to be with Edoardo, you have the right to say so.
If the Cosa Nostra won’t listen to what you want, I’ll make them.
I won’t stop until your rights match mine. ”
Lucia jerks back as if I struck her, her eyes blowing wide with shock—real shock, not the fake kind someone gives when they’re busted in a lie.
“What?” she whispers, her nose creasing.
“I know you’re married to Edoardo Cordoza.” I wipe away the tear clinging to her cheek and breathe easier through the heaviness swamping us when she leans into my embrace.
I don’t know what she sees while peering up at me, but it must be something mammoth.
I’ve never seen her soul so open and bared before.
“I’m not married.” Her wet eyes dance between mine for several heart-thrashing seconds before she loosens some of the barbed wire curled around my heart. “I’ve never been married.”
I believe her, without fault, so that isn’t what my next question is about. “Edoardo—”
“Lies,” she interrupts. “That’s what he does. He lies, cheats, and steals until you’re so caught up in the twisted mess, you’ll never find a way out.”
I study every twitch and flare of emotion.
I don’t see a single lie.
“Then what is this about?” My stomach gurgles when all arrows point the same way. “You gave Valentina a note telling her to run before she has the baby. Only someone who has lived through that kind of trap would warn another woman about that.”
“Stop… please. You don’t know what you’re doing.”
Her eyes stray across the groves, seeking the cameras she’ll never find.
“You can talk freely here, angelo. You can talk freely to me.”
Her chin quivers as she struggles to hold back her emotions. “Then how did he know you were giving up your place in the Cosa Nostra? How did he know you were giving it up for me?”
Shock rains down on me. How does she know that? Out of respect for my family, I wanted to tell them first before sharing it with anyone else.
Again, Lucia reads me like a book.
“You have a mole in the Caruso compound.”
When she attempts to walk away, I snatch up her wrist and yank her back until her back is heated by my front. “That’s there, angelo.” I point to my family home gleaming in the background. “We’re here. No one is here but you and me. You don’t need to be scared anymore.”
“I’m not scared.”
I love her stubbornness, but there’s no denying the truth. “You’ve been terrified since the day we met.” I pull her close so our raging hearts synchronize. “Terrified of telling the truth.” My last three words come directly from my heart. “Terrified of me.”
Strands of blonde locks get caught in my beard when she shakes her head, tears almost spilling again. “I’m not scared of you.”
“Then what is it?” I press, my voice soft but unyielding. “Who are you running from? Who are you protecting? What are you hiding?”
“Nothing. I’m not hiding anything.”
“Lucia—”
“You don’t understand!” she shouts, her tears falling freely now. “You don’t understand what will happen if I tell.”
“And I won’t be able to stop it either. Do you understand that?
I can’t help you if you don’t let me in.
I’ll have to keep sitting on my fucking hands, watching this sick fuck hurt you again and again.
” There’s no way she can miss how fast my heart is racing, but I don’t care.
I’m done pretending I am not wholly snowed under for this woman.
“Tell me what’s happening. Please. Let me help you.
” Her pulse flutters against my lips during my final two words. “Trust me.”
Trust is the only thing I need her to give me to throw everything else away, but it’s also the one thing she’s terrified to give.
“I trust you.”
My euphoria is short-lived.
“But I can’t tell you what’s happening.” All hope of getting through to her is lost until she murmurs, “He will kill him if I tell.”
“Who?”
Her teeth catch her bottom lip as she peers up at me to authenticate the silent pledges of protection rolling out of me.
I will protect her.
I will keep her safe.
I don’t care if I have to flatten the entire fucking world until every threat to her safety is neutralized.
I will do whatever it takes to stop her from living in fear.
And two seconds later, she proves she will do the same for me.
“My son. He will kill my son.”