20. Sleeveless tee-shirts should be illegal
Stepping back into my snarky personality feels like putting on an old piece of clothing you know and love. It’s familiar and comfortable. More comfortable than what happened with Andrea last night. The tension between us is thick in the air.
I know we’re inevitable, especially now that I’ve allowed him to touch me. But if I let myself go, I might repeat the same mistakes from the past and give to someone who doesn’t deserve it, just to be broken and discarded like a toy he doesn’t want to play with anymore. I won’t ever be at the mercy of someone else again. He said he needed a partner and that I’d try, but I’m still unsure.
I’m at the Rouge construction site when the rumbling noise of a bike has my attention shifting and I walk outside, my orange helmet firmly in place on my red mane. Cold November rain patters on the roof, the dark clouds above making the morning feel like early evening.
Andrea’s parking when I come out, his leather jacket looking like armour, and I resist the itch to reach for him. His hair is in a bun again and I want nothing more than to untie it and run my fingers through it like I did last night. He doesn’t look like a politician, but I’m sure it’s part of what’s going to endear a lot of voters to him. That and the fact that he actually does a lot of good for his community. I’ve seen his program, it’s focused on education and accessibility. Just like what he’s been doing for the past decade.
He walks to me with purpose, his expression unreadable, and I wonder what he’s doing here. Rouge isn’t on his road to and from his office in the city.
A white van with a name I don’t recognise on it parks next to his bike. A burly man all dressed in denim comes out and joins us.
“Giulia, this is Mitch. He used to work for my dad’s construction company before it passed onto me, then left to start his own business. Mitch specialises in stained glass and I thought I’d introduce you two.”
A calloused hand shakes mine vigorously, while I just watch with my mouth hanging open.
“Andrea tells me you want dark and erotic stained-glass windows for your club. I haven’t seen what it looks like inside, but I brought a few concepts with me. Do you mind showing me around, ma’am?”
I shake myself out of it and show him my best smile.
“Of course, why don’t you go ahead? I’ll be right with you.” I turn to the most annoying man on Earth. “What are you doing, O baullo? I can do everything by myself.”
His hands frame my face, his expression soft and open.
“When will you learn that you don’t have to?”
He kisses the top of my head and simply walks inside the club, like he didn’t just shake my very core with giving me help I desperately needed without me asking, or fighting for it.
I know what he’s doing.
Proving to me we just work.
And I might believe him.
Three hours later, we’re calling it a day when Nico, who’s always with me, receives a phone call. His shoulders bunch up with every word his interlocutor says on the other end of the line, his face turning grim.
He hangs up.
“Someone else died.”
* * *
We only get the report the next day.
I watch as Andrea cooks the all’arrabbiata pasta when Nico enters the house, looking like clouds have settled on his shoulders. He keeps shifting his lip piercing with his tongue, a clear tell to his nervous energy.
Andrea hands me a glass of sparkling water with lime, like we’re some sort of domesticated couple. We are, and that thought should not make me want to shimmy with delight.
Nico throws a closed manilla folder on the counter. No recognition sparks behind Andrea’s eyes when he takes the photograph out of the envelope to inspect it before turning back to his brother and asking for the identity of the corpse.
I don’t want to see a dead person just before dinner, but I was born and raised by killers, this shouldn’t impact my routine.
I walk to Andrea and my hand moves up to my mouth to muffle a scream I keep lodged in my throat.
I guess I was wrong.
Concern fleets behind Andrea’s eyes as he looks at me. “You knew them?”
I nod, incapable of finding the words.
Her name was Mia and last time I saw her, she had a cute pixie haircut and was full of life. It was three years ago, on my very last night in London. After breaking up with my boyfriend at the time, Louis, I had spent my last night in London in the arms of this woman. She was funny and her skin was soft, but except our names and bodily fluids, we didn’t exchange much.
Andrea and Nico watch me patiently, but I feel their curiosity burning behind the words unsaid. “Her name was Mia, and we were lovers. Only for a night.”
The sight of her vacant eyes and lifeless body on the cold concrete floor makes me feel sick. More than the previous body. Maybe because she was the last person I’ve had sex with, before what happened with Andrea. Maybe because now I know for sure it’s personal.
It doesn’t matter. What matters is that she’s dead and the monster who killed her roams free. My gut sours where rage blooms in tandem with sorrow.
I’m being targeted. Or maybe Andrea is. These two murders are linked to me, and therefore to him. Addams is too fucking clean to have absolutely nothing to do with it, but until someone close to him talks, I can’t prove shit.
It could also be Carmichael’s doing. A revenge for how I humiliated him. Or Mayor Lewis, who might be onto Andrea and how ambitious my man is, how he’s eyeing the position with hunger. Or literally anyone we’ve ever been in contact with who’s not in this room. Both Andrea and I have more enemies than we can count on our hands, with how much information we have on everyone on both legal and illegal sides of the chessboard.
Andrea says nothing and nods. I’m glad he doesn’t get into the primal part of his man-child brain and tries to claim my past as well as my present. It’s a little piece of maturity I was not expecting from him. Maybe I should give him more credit. I was also not expecting our heart-to-heart conversation last night, and now I feel even more raw.
“Confirms our suspicion. Someone’s after us. Nico, don’t let her leave your sight.”
“If you think you can prevent me from living my life, you got another thing coming, Capaldi.”
He takes my jaw in his hand and it’s the first time I see him so passionate.
That’s not true. When he almost killed Carmichael for insulting me, he had that same crazed look and violent energy buzzing around him that fed my own. It’s so potent I can almost taste it on my tongue. And it tastes like the only thing I’ll ever need.
“You’re in danger. Those cards, they’re addressed to you, not me. Nico stays with you, at all times.”
“I’m not some meek wife you can control. I was born and raised in this life, so I can defend myself without you and without Nico.”
Nico only leaves me when I’m at Rouge, and I’m certain he’s not happy about tagging along all day with me. He has better things to do with his time.
“I won’t compromise on your safety,” he says while advancing on me once again. It’s like he hasn’t understood yet that no matter how much he tries to intimidate me, I’ll never bow down from a fight. If anything, it makes me want to fight more.
Because you love to have him make you submit, my brain whispers and I shut her up real quick.
“Nico stays, end of discussion.”
He motions to leave, but I yell after him. “You can’t expect to declare something and have it be law, Capaldi.” I have no clue where he’s going, but I don’t give a shit. Let him cool down while I plan who I need to talk to, to get the information I want.
Whoever is behind this, we need to move fast and protect the people that could be targeted.
And we need to find the maid and nanny that worked for Addams.
And have my husband elected.
When did my life become so full and complicated?
“Do you know how many women your brother has been with?” I ask Nico.
“I’m not answering that question. Do you take me for a fool, sorellina?”
I click my tongue. “I don’t give a fuck how many women Andrea’s been with, they could be targeted, so I’m just trying to estimate how many people we need to hide and protect.”
Nico looks at me from the corner of his eye and raises a brow, and I roll my eyes.
“Fine, don’t believe me, I’ll ask him myself.”
“You do that,” he says before retreating to his own house on the other side of the property.
On my side, there’s only one person to call. I didn’t really end things properly with Louis, fucking him and leaving a note before completely breaking my phone, so he’d never find me. That must have hurt but what can I say, he was starting to get really needy and except for his cock, I wasn’t interested in anything serious with him. Sometimes, a brutal ending is what men need to get the message. But now, I have no clue how to get to him.
I’ll need Andrea’s help.
Speaking of the devil, he joins me in the kitchen, back from wherever he crawled to. Probably the gym considering his muscles seem to have swelled within the past hour. I’m about to declare it illegal for him to wear that threadbare sleeveless tee-shirt when he takes hold of me.
“Guerrieritta,” he sighs while holding my body to his, his front stuck to my back and moulding perfectly to my curves. His strong arms envelop me, his tattoos a stark contrast to the naked skin of my arms.
I tilt my head to give him more access on instinct. Andrea takes the opportunity to drop his head to the crook of my neck and inhales.
“I just want you to be safe. Bad things happen to the people I care about.”
I close my eyes and drop my head back to his shoulder. It feels so good to be held like I’m something precious. His concern filters through every breath he takes, like I’m the air he needs to breathe.
“I understand.” I turn my head to look into his eyes. The brown swirls with anguish and it tugs at the last remnants of control I have when it comes to my husband. “Nico is more valuable somewhere else. Put someone else on my protection detail if it makes you feel better.”
“He’s the only one I trust with my family.”
Fuck.
I close my eyes and let him hold me some more. How am I supposed to argue when he says it like that?
Andrea’s hand cups my cheek in the softest touch and his lips descend on mine in a gentle kiss. I can feel his fears, his heart thumping against mine where our chests connect; I can feel his concern in the way he holds himself back. I can feel… his love. And when I open my eyes, what I see in his hazel depths is more powerful than anything else we’ve shared before.
The doorbell rings and makes me jump in his arms.
We’re not expecting anyone and whoever that is, they can fuck right off because I need my husband to fuck me into oblivion while he tells me how much I mean to him.
With a press of his lips on my brow, Andrea goes to open the door. The words I hear freeze my blood.
“Andrea Capaldi, you’re under arrest for the murder of Mia Alonso.”