8. Chapter Eight #2
I glance out the front window of the salon to where Enzo is waiting for me. He’s leaning against the car on his phone. Not paying me any attention.
“Sicily,” I say to my hairdresser as she fluffs my hair, finishing her work. “Can I go out the back door?”
“Why? Is something wrong?”
“Yes. You see that man out there? He’s my bodyguard.” Sicily does the hair for a lot of mafia women so she understands the life I’m in. “I just need a moment of freedom. You can understand.”
“Of course. Feel free to use the back door. I won’t tell anyone.”
“Thank you so much.” My legs ache as I stand up. All this tension inside my body is going to kill me one day.
Before I can stop myself, I walk out the back door and into a small alleyway. There’s no one else around. It won’t take long for Enzo to realize I’m gone. If I want a moment to myself, I have to go now.
My legs and feet are moving towards the sidewalk and then I’m off. The city is bustling this time of day. Lunch time. That helps me blend in to the crowds of people. A glance behind me shows that Enzo isn’t following me. He must not know I left yet.
I don’t stop walking until I make it to a park. Large trees interlock above to create a beautiful archway, protecting me from the sun. I find a bench to sit on and breathe. Just breathe.
It’s nice to not be watched. To feel like I have a moment to myself.
The cool air this time of year helps relax me and gives my mind clarity. I am married to Matteo for the rest of my life and I have to make the most out of it.
Even if it scares me. Even if it’s not what I want. Even if it is what I want.
I feel someone watching me and when I look over my shoulder, I see that Enzo is heading straight towards me. I get to my feet and move without realizing what I’m doing. I’m not ready to go back home yet.
I join a large group of women walking and sneak out from them and enter into the nearest restaurant I can find. Enzo walks past the restaurant, still searching for me.
I sigh.
“What are you doing in here?” a man asks.
With a gasp, I spin around. It’s then I see what kind of restaurant I’m in.
A typical Italian one. But it’s empty except for a man at a back booth and another man across from him.
One man looks completely at ease while the other one looks scared out of his mind.
Two other men stand beside the booth… acting like guards.
They’re mafia men. I can feel it in my bones.
Except, I have never seen these men before.
The one who looks at ease stands up. “I asked what you’re doing in here?”
“I… I was just looking for something to eat,” I lie.
“Didn’t you see the sign out there? It’s closed. We don’t open until this evening.”
“I’m sorry,” I squeak. “I’ll just be going.”
The man walks towards me before I can leave. “You shouldn’t have walked in here.” He’s young, probably around Matteo’s age, and handsome with wavy black hair and intense eyes. “Do you know what this place is?”
“A restaurant?” I need to keep playing it off like I’m innocent. Like I don’t know that this man before me is a mafia man and a dangerous one at that given the way he’s looking at me.
“I’m Dante Zaneli. This is my restaurant. The people around here know not to enter during this time. So why did you?”
I swallow hard. “I’m not from around here. I just moved to the city. I’m so sorry.”
He tilts his head to the side, looking me over. “You seem familiar. Have we met?”
“No.” But if this man is a part of the mafia, there’s a chance he’s seen me before as a mafia man’s daughter. I want to ask him if he works for Gabriel but I can’t risk it. What if he doesn’t? Then I could be in danger. “I’m sorry. I’ll get going. I really didn’t mean to come in here.”
“I believe you. You should get going. But first, tell me your name.”
“Why?”
His eyes narrow. “Because I make it my business to know the names of people who come into my restaurant.”
“Alexandra,” I lie. “My name is Alexandra.”
“Last name?”
“Ricci. Now, may I please go? I’m sorry for coming in here.”
He waves a dismissive hand and I practically run from the restaurant. This is not what I signed up for when I wanted freedom today.
I spy Enzo down the street and run right for him.
“Luciana?” he asks. “Where did you go? You’re not supposed to run off like that.”
“I know. I just wanted to go to the park. I’m sorry. Let’s go back home.”
He doesn’t argue. “Fine. But Matteo will be angry when he finds out you tried to leave him.”
“I didn’t try to leave him,” I snap. “I just… needed space. That’s all.”
Enzo drives me back to Matteo’s mansion – well, I guess it’s my own home as well – and I don’t hesitate to run inside.
For the first time since I married Matteo, I feel safe in this house.
My run in with that scary mafia man, Dante, was enough to remind me that Matteo is the devil I know.
And that’s better than the devil I don’t know.
I barely have time to catch my breath before Matteo storms inside. “You tried to run away? I told you not to do that.”
The sight of my husband – my scary, handsome husband – is a sight I welcome in this moment. Before I even know what I’m doing, I walk over to him and press my head to his chest.
Matteo tenses. “What are you doing?”
“I just want to feel safe,” I admit. “That’s all I want.” I lift my head and lock my eyes with his.
And I do what I’ve been dying to do for a while. It’s something that terrifies me. It confuses me. It frustrates me.
But I have to do it.
I stand on my tiptoes and I press my lips to his.