Chapter 5 – Cam
Ahushed breath filled with awe escaped those rosy lips.
I grinned down at my little flower as she took in the kaleidoscope of color.
Palazzo Luna was an old industrial building situated on the marina, all glass and brick.
The far end was open; the great doors hitched to the sides for guests to stroll on the lawn.
There were heat lamps there to combat the cooler breezes.
Beyond, the smoky aroma of a bonfire wafted through the double doors.
Inside, deep crimson tablecloths lay on tables.
Pops of orange blazed in the décor, but it was the bursts of gold that made this space feel regal.
It was nothing compared to the woman walking beside me.
She was divinity incarnate.
The dress hugged her curves. Shadows moved as she walked, the material swishing like a cloud of midnight air.
“You’re going to have to take that thing off your face to eat or drink,” Sara commented as we wove through the tables.
I flicked a glance down at her, catching her eye.
Oh, my sweet angel, only if I can devour you.
As if she sensed my thoughts, Sara looked away quickly, trying and failing to hide the shiver that skittered over her skin.
“I’ll take that as a no,” she muttered. “You’re seriously passing up on apple tarts and mulled wine, though? You must be insane!”
I was.
But not in the way she thought.
Sara continued to jabber as she’d done since the moment I walked through the front door.
At first, I’d kept silent to hide my identity, figuring that her keen mind would quickly recognize my voice even though we hadn’t spoken in a couple of years.
But now, I simply enjoyed the melody of her words.
They were intoxicating. I didn’t care about the topic.
I would happily listen to her read passages from the dictionary if she was only speaking to me.
Sara took a step toward the buffet tables, but I moved quickly and intercepted her. Those dark brows inched together, making the mask shift on her face. She looked at the food, then back at me.
I held out my hand.
Sara recoiled, staring at my hand as though it would bite.
I didn’t reach for her. I didn’t grab her. But I made it clear that she was coming with me.
With a huff that sounded like resignation, she slid her small paw into mine. My fingers wrapped around her hand. Cazzo! It was so small. The bones were delicate. I could easily crush them.
I tugged her close and wrapped my arm around the small of her back. A soft breath caught in her throat. I drank in the sound as I backed up, leading us onto the dance floor. Carefully, she reached for my left arm, fingers clutching my suit jacket right below the shoulder.
A vicious thrill surged through my veins at her touch. She was anchored to me.
We began to sway to the music.
“If I trip on these skirts, it’s your fault,” she grumbled.
I smirked. Did she remember dancing like this, nearly a decade ago, at a youth Christmas ball?
She’d been the one with two left feet. I almost wished she would step all over my shoes, that was how badly I ached for contact with her.
Time had given her grace, and she moved without the gangly teen jerks and spasms.
I pulled her closer, stifling a groan as her chest brushed over mine.
Ffuucckk. This was a bad idea.
The jazzy strains of music created a cocoon around our bodies. I was lost in a moment, finally holding my girl. Tonight, she wasn’t dancing with anyone else. Sara was mine.
She just didn’t know it yet.
I gave her a little spin, and as I pulled her back into my hold, Sara tripped. She crashed against me. I clutched her tight, holding her close. I was aware of every inch of her. From the heat staining her cheeks, I knew she felt it too.
The urge to kiss her slammed into me.
The damn mask I’d chosen hid my features, but now I realized it was a mistake. I looked over the crowd, trying to discover a secluded place to drag my angel into the dark. There weren’t any. Not in here. The flicker of a flame caught my eye, and I stepped in the direction of the double doors.
“Hey! Wait,” Sara protested.
I tucked her into my side, moving quickly. The moment the crisp air hit us, Sara shuddered. I slid the jacket off my shoulders, spinning her to stand off to the side of the building. The trees and shrubbery hid us from view. My breath plumed in front of my face as I draped the jacket over my girl.
Sara scowled up at me. “What the hell is this?”
I checked once more that there was no light from the pergola off to the side. Desperate to taste her, I almost didn’t care if she discovered me. But I wanted this kiss. I needed to steal it before she had a chance to decide if kissing an enforcer of the mob was something she didn’t want to do.
Running my knuckles down her cheek, I tipped her chin up. Slowly. Painfully. My heart slammed against my ribs. I couldn’t breathe as I bent to her, lifting my mask a fraction.
“Angelo mio,” I rasped before my lips brushed over hers.
A dangerous buzz flooded my body. Sara tasted of sin and salvation. She was peace and war wrapped in a decadent package. Her mouth was frozen under mine, but after a moment, she exhaled—
And kissed me back.
That was the spark that set the fuse.
There was no power on earth that could take this angel from me.
Sara clutched my dress shirt tightly. She dragged me down to her, pressing her gorgeous tits against me. I groaned, cupping her face in both my hands. With a breathy pant, Sara bit my bottom lip before sucking it into her mouth.
“I was wondering how long it would take you to kiss me,” she whispered.
That statement was completely at odds with her earlier declarations. I had spoken roughly, disguising my voice, but the way that she peered up at me, made me question if she’d figured it out. I would have to work on a gruff tone that she wouldn’t recognize.
I moved to take another taste, the urge to brand myself on her stronger than any force on earth. Sara’s eyelids fluttered closed as she rose to meet me.
Shouts tore through the night behind us.
The slap of flesh pounding against flesh accented other raised voices.
With a snarl, I straightened and tugged my mask back into place. Whoever dared interrupt the peace of this moment would suffer.
I looked back at Sara, debating what to say—how to say it—so that she wouldn’t recognize me.
The angel squeezed my fingertips. “They’re Made Men, causing a scene with some tourists.”
My girl was quick to figure out just what was happening.
“Go on,” Sara urged. “See what that’s about.”
Once more, I brushed the tip of my fingers over her lips before I turned and forced myself to move. I stalked toward the fight just as a few of my brothers-in-arms descended upon the fray. The brawlers didn’t heed our bark of warning.
I had to physically insert myself into the fight.
I tugged Emanuele back, but he threw a wild punch. It clipped my ear. If I hadn’t moved, it would have crushed the mask into my flesh.
“Watch it!” I hissed.
The enraged soldier shouted in my face. “That stronzo copped a feel!”
I lifted my mask and leveled him with a stare. His eyes widened, and he began to stammer.
I understood his predicament. The charm of small-town life attracted all manner of city scum. It didn’t matter that the tourist in question was in a bespoke suit with a fifty thousand dollar watch glittering on his wrist. He thought he could do whatever he wanted.
This was not the town for that.
“You know the rules,” I bit out, shaking Emanuele.
It took another ten minutes to calm them down and sort things out. By the time the “police” arrived, my blood boiled with frustration at the interruption. But the cops weren’t just on our side. They were us. Picked men who the don trusted to keep law and order in the Cove.
Pulling my mask down, I reentered the ball, gaze sweeping the tables. Sara would probably have gone to the buffet to grab treats. She was sweet like that. But there was no angelic flower tucked against a side table. I didn’t see my angel anywhere.
Stalking to the place where her parents were drinking mulled wine, I leaned down and planted my knuckles on the crimson tablecloth. “Caputo, where’s your daughter?”
“Oh! Sara said she had a headache and turned in,” Sancia responded brightly. “We gave her our car, since she reasoned that taking a rideshare would mean we could indulge a bit more.” Signora Caputo lifted her glass and giggled like a girl.
Beside her, Saverio tugged at his collar. Below his Venetian mask, his lips puckered in disapproval.
“Were you her date?” Sancia gave me a curious look. “You don’t seem her type.”
I gave her a tight look before turning back to her husband. “Go home. Take care of your daughter.”
Saverio spoke through gritted teeth, “Si, Signore.”
Sancia’s mouth popped open in a small O. “Are you Lucian?”
I wasn’t deigning to respond. Caputo knew our deal. I’d told him in no uncertain terms that he was to keep the deal we made a secret. I wanted to bring Sara to the ball, and he promised to make it happen.
Technically, he’d held up his end of the bargain.
I decided to head down to the precinct and work out some of my frustration on the tourist whose brawl interrupted the best night of my life.
***
Excitement surged through my veins. Tonight would more than make up for the abrupt ending to the ball.
Before Mass this morning, I called Antonio, forced him to cancel every reservation at the Panifico Bellacosta, and ordered him to create a five-course meal for just the two of us.
It cost me a pretty penny, since Antonio was booked solid for the next seven weeks, but he knew what was good for him and did as he was told.
A restaurant to ourselves.
Music. Candles. An intimate setting.
Watching Sara in church this morning, it had been torture not to tell her, yet now the delay was worth it.
Grabbing the altered mask, I practically bounced from the driver’s seat, my steps light as I walked to the Caputos’ front door.
But something made me stop short. In the haze of anticipation, I missed a clue.
There were only two cars in the garage, the door hanging open to reveal the parents were home. But…the driveway was bare.
No matter, my angel was probably out. I would wait.
Positioning the mask on my face, I strode to the front door. I’d taken the time to carve an opening for my mouth, large enough to fit a forkful of food. I had a voice changer, a nifty little tool one of the tech guys created for covert missions. Tonight, I would be able to talk to my girl.
I would woo her before she figured out who I was.
Sara would never be with a killer like me otherwise.
There was too much blood on my hands. She was pure.
She was beautiful. I could only make her fall for me if she didn’t know the real devil behind the mask.
Once she gave me her heart, there would be no turning back.
Lifting my fist, I pounded on the door.
A beat of silence pulsed around me. The moment was answered by a cool, northern breeze rushing down the street. Brilliant leaves rustled on their branches, some fell, twisting and tumbling to the earth below.
The wreath made of acorns and oak leaves clattered against the door as it was ripped open.
“Caputo,” I murmured. “I’m here to finish my date.”
Saverio gripped the back of his neck, tugging as he peered up at me through his thick spectacles. “Sara’s gone.”
The world around me froze. The wind didn’t dare finish its waltz with the leaves. The night seemed to shrink back from the storm brewing in my chest.
“Gone?”
Saverio huffed. “She left this morning for our lakeside cabin. A writing retreat!”
The tension ebbed, but only a fraction. “You didn’t think this information was relevant when last we spoke?”
“It slipped my mind!” he snapped. “Her mother and her have been plotting it since she moved back. I’m always the last one to know, but when she didn’t take off right away, I figured she’d abandoned the idea.
It wasn’t until she took off this morning after church that I found out how serious she had been! ”
Rambling wasn’t going to earn him any points with me. It was fucking adorable when his daughter did it, but this tested my patience.
I gripped the doorframe, fingers turning white. “A writing retreat.”
“Yes.” He pushed his glasses up his nose. The gesture was both familiar and wrong. It made me ache for the woman who wasn’t here. “Something about limiting distractions and a fresh setting to get her creative spark ignited. I don’t understand it, signore.”
“That’s because you’ve never created a work of art,” I spat and turned.
It was harsh. It wasn’t the truth. The way he made numbers bend to his will was an artform unto itself. But I wasn’t about to praise him for his loyalty. Not when my mind raced with the news about my girl.
Dropping into my seat, I shot one last look at Saverio. He glared at me, arms crossed, standing on the front stoop as though to stop me, but not knowing how.
I wasn’t going to hurt the old man, and not because he was the best finance guy we’d ever had. He didn’t deserve to be hurt. But it was good to have people fear me.
As long as Sara never fears me.
That was a dash of cold water. My instinct to go to her was tempered by the truth. She wanted space. She thought she was safe out in the country, nestled on the shores of Lake Georgina. My next move needed to be carefully calculated.