Chapter 27
LEO
Ethereal is the only word that comes to mind as I stare at Emilia blissfully sleeping against my chest.
I’ve been up for a while now.
My phone keeps buzzing on the nightstand, but I can’t bring myself to ruin the way the sunlight pours across her face and casts her entire body in a golden hue.
I thought about waking her up with my head between her legs, but I knew if I started, I wouldn’t stop.
We’d spend the entire day in bed, and that wasn’t an option today. There was work to be done, and as much as I wanted to make her my new job, we both needed Enzo gone sooner rather than later.
She stirs in her sleep. I hold my breath until she goes still again. And then my pulse skitters to life under my skin as she curls her body tighter against mine.
Before I can stop the train of thought, my mind goes back to how I felt when I saw her missed call. And then I got word from Michael a few seconds later.
I was in hell the entire drive to her, eventually kicking my driver out and taking control of the vehicle myself. I got there as fast as I could, but when I saw that door kicked open and blood splattered on the stairs, I was transported back to the night my parents died.
And then when I saw she was okay…I knew I was in trouble.
I’ve known for a while now, but last night was just confirmation of the inevitable.
I won’t give her up even if she begs me.
And that’s why I continue to be a creep and watch her as she sleeps. Because the second she wakes up, I’ll see that unforgivable look in her eyes. One that tells me she’s not ready to give in to me.
But last night was different. She let me hold her and leaned into me instead of running away.
That’s all the hope I need.
The trust thing might take time. But it isn’t the first time I’ve played the long game, and it won’t be the last.
“Is it too early to call you out for being a creep?” she whispers, her voice groggy and undeniably cute.
Cute.
I must be in deep because that word feels wrong even in my subconscious.
“Good morning, Tesoro.”
She sighs—somewhere crossed between a yawn and a groan.
Again. Cute.
Very cute.
“Not so fast,” I say, slipping my forearm under her sheet-clad body and forcing her to roll back toward me.
“I’m not in the mood for your weird, only-behind-doors domesticated bullshit,” she mumbles, finally opening her eyes.
My chest tightens when she finally opens her eyes.
“Would you prefer me to take my obsession public?” I ask, raising one brow.
Mia rolls her eyes, but that just encourages me to pull her onto my chest. She gasps as her hips fall onto mine.
“No,” she scoffs, her bottom lip quivering slightly. I can feel her reaching for a better comeback, but when she comes up empty, she reaches for her next go-to. “Don’t you have a job you need to get to?”
I flip our bodies and pin her underneath me.
“Why are you so desperate to get out of my bed? You didn’t seem to have any objections when your face was buried in the pillow and I—”
“Please stop,” she snipes. I prepare for the cold front I’m about to endure when her lips transform from a displeased sneer into a mischievous smile. Excitement thrums underneath the surface as her playful side makes an appearance. “Maybe you’re more than just a pretty face after all, DeLuca.”
“But as much fun as this has been,” she says, tapping her fingers against my chest like a beautiful drumbeat. “We both have things to do.”
I lick my lips, trailing a single finger down her exposed body, watching goosebumps pop up. She tracks the movement closely, anticipation cresting on her face. And then with a dramatic exhale, I say, “You’re right.”
“I am?” she asks, eyebrows raised and reaching for the sheet.
“Yes,” I say, forcing myself to a sitting position and facing away from her before I get pulled back in. “But you’ll make up for it later.”
She snorts, the bed creaking under her weight as she turns toward me. “What makes you think I’ll be back in your bed tonight?”
“I don’t think,” I say, standing up and turning around. Her eyes instantly rake over my body. “I know.”
Mia’s forehead wrinkles as she wraps the sheet around her body and marches toward the bathroom.
“No comment?”
“I like it better when we don’t talk,” she replies, and in one fluid motion she drops the sheet.
I curse under my breath when I hear the shower turn on, and like a zombie, my feet start moving before I can talk myself out of it.
My phone keeps buzzing on the table, but I ignore it, stalking toward the shower.
For once, Enzo Caruso was right.
Mia is a distraction.
One I’d do anything for.
“Is everything set for tonight?” I ask, staring daggers at Michael’s feet propped up on the very expensive coffee table in my office.
“Yes,” Dante says on the other end of the phone. “I just need to borrow your man servant for a few hours, and we’ll be good to go.”
I stifle a laugh; thankful I didn’t put the call on speaker. I kick Michael’s feet off my table and ignore the dirty look I get in return.
“He’s ready to go whenever. I already tipped off the cops.”
I’m met with silence on the other end until Dante finally speaks again. “Are you sure this is going to work? This is a big risk for both of us. If Enzo finds out—”
“He won’t,” I snap, cutting him off. “We used a burner and voice encryption. It’s untraceable.”
Dante is right. It is a risk.
A huge one we shouldn’t be taking this quickly. But after he threatened Mia, we had to speed things up.
I need to take Enzo out before anything happens to her.
Because if it does, I won’t hesitate to strike.
And once I cross that line, there’s no going back to the life Frank and Cecil worked so hard to help me build.
That should scare the hell out of me, but it doesn’t seem to trigger the same amount of emotion that erupts out of nowhere every time I picture her face.
“Tell me now if you’re not up for it, Russo. I can’t handle any weakness from you right now.”
“Fuck you, DeLuca,” he seethes.
“I’m flattered, but I don’t think your sister would approve.”
The line goes quiet, a few murmured curse words filtering through. I smile wider.
“Whatever,” he mutters. “Did you get Alice settled okay?” he asks, quickly pivoting the conversation.
I nod, walking toward the large window in my office that overlooks the park. “She’s fine. My sister is looking after her.”
I leave out the part about my brother being an ass about the whole thing. It got to the point where I considered asking my parents for help, but if they knew what I was up to, they’d try to stop me.
Having Mari and Gio involved is bad enough.
“Thank you,” he replies, catching me off guard. I grip the edge of the windowsill and wait for him to take it back or throw a targeted insult my way.
But he’s quiet.
I hate when people are quiet.
“You’re welcome, Russo,” I say, feeling uncomfortable about whatever silent surrender is happening between us.
Thankfully, the line goes dead before things get even more mushy.
“You know two anonymous phone calls in two days is going to raise some red flags at the NYPD, right?” Michael points out.
I keep my gaze pointed out the window, watching as people walk by—too focused on where they’re going to care that they’ve become a source of comfort for someone like me.
I’ve always been good at observing. Biting my tongue and biding my time until something useful presented itself. That’s part of the reason I got to where I’m at.
But that strategy got thrown out the window the moment I set eyes on Emilia Russo.
“I know,” I answer. My attention snags on a family waiting for Michael to respond. A man and a woman walk side by side, pushing a stroller through the afternoon foot traffic.
From this angle, I can only see the man’s face as he smiles brightly at his wife.
Jealousy isn’t a word that crosses my mind a lot, but looking at this random family enjoying a sunny afternoon on their way to the park makes my heart ache in a way that I can’t find the energy to fully understand.
When all I hear is the sound of Michael’s fingers tapping away, I clear my throat and turn toward him. “Is this the part where you start lecturing me about Mia?”
Michael stares blankly ahead. The only indication that he heard me is the fact that his fingers pause midair and lift away from the keyboard.
My eyes catch on the way his throat constricts like he’s restraining himself from saying what he really wants to say.
“Spit it out already,” I order.
He takes a deep breath. “You’re losing sight of the real goal here.”
I expect an instant reaction. Anger or even irritation at the very least. But I’m a reasonable man. He’s completely right.
“I still want him dead,” I say, not feeling the need to say the name of a man that doesn’t deserve headspace anymore, “but I won’t risk her getting any more hurt than she already has.”
“Mia can take care of herself,” Michael says, standing to his full height. The bastard is taller than me and uses it to his advantage. “She’s not as fragile as everyone expects her to be.”
I roll my head, feeling the ligaments of my neck crack and whine.
“I know that, but she was getting in over her head. She asked me if I knew the name Marco Bellini. The second Enzo’s insiders caught wind that she was digging into his dead second-in-command, he’d start asking questions and figure out who she is. ”
“And that wouldn’t be good for us,” I add, letting the pieces fall into place.
“That doesn’t change the fact that she makes you reckless and messy.
Sure, you can justify the suspension, but can you justify fucking up our plan?
We’ve spent years trying to get everything perfect and now what?
You’re calling shots that we’re nowhere near ready to carry out, all to keep one person safe. Someone that doesn’t need saving.”
His dark presence steps closer, two black pools targeted at me. “Enzo isn’t dumb. All it takes is one mistake. One. And everything we’ve been working toward is gone.”
My molars grind together, but he isn’t done yet.
“And for what? Some girl you’ll lose interest in once the stakes aren’t high anymore.”
My body shakes, but I keep my arms pinned at my sides. “Watch your fucking tone, Chen,” I threaten, but he doesn’t back down. The fire he works so hard to cage is out and ready to play.
“She’s a liability, and you know it.”
“No,” I say, pinning him down with one look. “Nothing has changed. I still want him gone. Just sooner than anticipated.”
A foreign look flashes across his face. One that’s hard to stomach for a man like me.
“You’re really going to let her change the timeline.”
“Not changing. Adjusting.”
He folds, his shoulders sagging just enough to let me know he’s backing down for now. “And what happens if this adjustment blows up in your face? Better yet, what happens when Mia isn’t the only one getting hurt all because you needed to get your dick wet?”
It happens quick. My office blurs and black dots cloud my vision, only becoming clear again when I’m an inch away from Michael’s face with his shirt clenched tightly in my hands. His facial expression is frozen.
“Watch your fucking mouth,” my voice low and trembling with rage.
Michael is stone cold, but his eyes stay locked on mine. They’re steady but calm. He looks like he’s assessing a threat, and this time it’s me. And then I see a tiny tremor, and I know he’s decided I’m not worth it. Which is a relief.
I know I’m outmatched and yet the blood pumping through my veins is ready to squeeze him tighter until he learns not to disrespect me.
“Fine,” he says coolly. “I was out of line.”
My fingers twist the fabric of his shirt tighter before finally letting go, shoving him back in the process. He stumbles a step but catches himself easily.
Dragging a hand down my face, I force the tension out of my body and search for control even if I’ve lost it completely.
“Don’t worry about me,” I say, feeling his assessing gaze on me. “I’ll make sure everything works out.”
I hired Michael Chen because he is cold, apathetic, and damn good at getting the job done no matter what it is. I can’t be surprised that he’s asking these questions and doubting my commitment.
“Just don’t hesitate when it matters,” he says, leaving without another word.
I stare at the door, feeling something shifts between us. But before I can process it, Georgia walks through the door.
“Have you seen Mia?” she asks, her head peering around the room like she is participating in a game of hide-and-seek.
“No?” I say, walking toward my bar cart for a much-needed drink. “Why?”
“She was just here asking to see you, but I had to go take care of something, so I told her to go ahead. I grabbed her a coffee on my way back up.”
My hand clenches around the glass in my hand hard enough to crack the lip. I quickly discard the object, and without another word, I’m in the hallway searching for her.
The only thought in my brain is that my little wannabe spy heard everything.
Including the part about me getting her suspended.
I could be mad, but it was bound to come out eventually.
And judging by my luck lately, she’s probably already planning my execution.