Chapter Eighteen
Raya
“WELL, THAT WENT FAST,” I mumble through a laugh. “Good lord.”
Cora laughs along with me, shaking her head. “No matter how much more I cook each time, there’s still never enough. It always goes so fast.”
We’re at the Cathedral for “Grace Day.” A monthly outreach event offering aid and support to the struggling and homeless. Cora tagged me along, since the three Castello bosses have been radio silent all day.
Half an hour ago, we set up our station stacked high with containers of hot, home-cooked meals. In less than fifteen minutes, it’s all gone.
Other stations around the cathedral are still laden with school supplies, clothes, household appliances, groceries, books, vouchers…
With grateful smiles and words of appreciation, people mill about, taking what they need. A strong sense of community in the atmosphere. Rare but beautiful.
Cora discreetly pulls a stack of envelopes from her handbag and slips a few to me.
“What are these?” I ask.
“Cash. Stefano’s contribution,” she replies.
“Go around, mingle, and use your intuition to gift these to the ones who really need them. There are plenty of hopeless addicts who show up just to freeload, and we’re not interested in supporting their habits.
We want to help those truly struggling. This is why we keep it quiet, yes? ”
“Got it.”
We split off into the crowd.
Some twenty minutes later, I’m deep in conversation with a single dad whose young daughter is terminally ill, when something catches in my periphery.
A nun, being quietly led off to the side by the priest.
At first glance, it looks innocent. A guiding hand on her arm. But I know the signs. I know how to spot abuse hiding in plain sight. His broad frame towers over her, while she keeps her head bowed, nodding meekly to whatever he’s saying.
Too meekly. Too practiced.
The second he releases her, she scurries off down the hall.
He turns, and a polished smile spreads across his face as he returns to mingling.
Hmm. Not very priestly of you, Vale Fontana.
Surreptitiously, I slip an envelope to the single dad with a quiet wish for better days, then move on.
While Vale is distracted chatting with a small group, I break off toward the hall the nun disappeared down. Dull lights overhead cast ghostly shadows against the walls, evoking a depressive vibe. Heavy wooden doors are on either side.
From behind one of the doors on the right, muffled voices filter out.
Hushed female tones.
A stifled sob.
A hard thud...
I’m about to test the handle when a voice stops me cold.
“Do you need help with something?”
I look to the mouth of the hall.
Vale’s standing there, arms loose at his sides, watching me with a smile that doesn’t reach his eyes.
Hmm. More vigilant than he seems.
“Oh, yes! I’m trying to find the bathroom,” I say, dialing up the ditzy charm. I shift from foot to foot, palm over my lower abdomen. “I really need to, um, pee.”
“The restroom is across the other hall.” His fake smile doesn’t crack. “Come, I’ll show you.”
“I’m so sorry.” I hurry toward him with exaggerated urgency. “I’ve never been here before...”
“No worries.” His eyes never leave mine, sharp and assessing. “You’re with the Castellos, correct? I saw you arrive with Cora.”
I nod like a clueless doll. The dumber I look, the better.
His smile holds, but it’s not enough to mask the line that furrows between his brows now. What vacant eyes for a supposed man of God. “Ah. Well. We appreciate you showing up to help out. We do our best to give back to the community in whatever way we can.”
“Of course. I enjoy doing this kind of stuff!”
“That’s lovely to hear. Hopefully, you will be kept around long enough to keep on helping...”
Ha. Nice dig. “I hope so, too.”
In a gesture that somehow feels both harmless and quietly threatening, he places a hand at the center of my back and nudges me forward, then points across the cathedral to the hall on the opposite side. “The bathroom is that way.”
“Th-thank you,” I stutter for effect, then scurry off like a good little ditz.
Inside the restroom, I lean against the counter and wait out enough minutes to make the lie believable. As I do, my phone buzzes with a text.
Gio: Need a gym buddy this evening. You available?
Me: Today’s weight training for me, so yep.
Gio: Cool. Let’s meet at seven.
An hour later, after we’ve left the cathedral and are cruising back to the villa, voice light and casual, I ask Cora, “Hey, what do you think about the priest?”
“Vale?” Cora sniffs disapprovingly. “I’ve never liked him. He has bad energy. And he dislikes women, I think. So whenever he visits the house, I make myself scarce and refuse to serve him. I do Grace Day for the people, not him.”
“Really? What makes you think he dislikes women?”
“Observation.” She shakes her head, her voice firm.
“There’s just something...off. Something bad and sinister in the way he looks at women.
I would take a pervert over that man. At least a pervert appreciates the female form.
But Vale?” She shudders audibly, shoulders shaking.
“I see nothing but veiled hatred when he speaks to women.” She frowns at me then. “Why do you ask?”
I shrug. “Because I don’t like him either. But I wasn’t sure if hating a priest is a sin.”
Cora throws her head back and laughs, warm and full. She takes my hand in hers. “Hate the bastard. We will go to hell together.”
~
“YOU DON’T NEED to show off for me, you know,” I call across the gym. “Muscles like that could only come from heavy lifting.”
Shirtless, glistening with sweat, and lifting heavier than usual, Gio grins mid-rep. “Of course I do. How else am I supposed to make you fall for me? Gotta peacock for you.”
I roll my eyes. “You’re ridiculous.”
And yet...I can’t stop staring at the way his chest flexes under the weight. He knows it, too. The smug, sexy bastard winks at me in the mirror, and I look away, cheeks warming.
After finishing a brutal set of hammer curls, he drops the weights and turns to watch me crank out a round of military push-ups.
“You think Mamma Michel would like me, pretty eyes?” he asks. “What’s the secret to winning her over?”
Rocking back on my knees, I swipe the sweat from my brow. “It’s my dad you should worry about.”
“Oh yeah? How bad is he?”
I snort. “Ask me what happened to my first love.”
“What—” He pauses as it seems to dawn on him, then his eyebrows jump. “No. No way. He didn’t.”
“Yep, he did. He caught us together and didn’t hesitate. Game over.” I grab my water bottle. “Thanks to him, I’ll never fall in love again.”
Gio takes a long swig from his bottle, studying me over the rim. “Were you underage or something?”
“Sixteen. He was twenty-five. And my bodyguard,” I reply. “Dad said it was a betrayal of trust and dereliction of duty. ‘He was supposed to protect you, not deflower you.’ His exact words.”
Gio appears to think about it, then shrugs. “I mean…I kinda get it.”
“Of course you do.” I shake my head. “You men are all the same.”
We both fall into focused silence, back to work. Grunts, the clink of weights, and the hiss of controlled breaths fill the space between us as we power through another set.
When Gio drops his dumbbells again, chest heaving, he watches me finish up my reps before asking, “So, what, you just never dated anyone after that?”
Dated. Ha. That’s cute.
“I guess you could say I flipped the off switch on my heart,” I say, pushing up onto my knees. “Built a nice, high wall around it.”
He doesn’t interrupt, just wipes his forehead, listening.
“The bodyguard who replaced my first love was obsessed with me. Or maybe just the idea of me. My father warned him what would happen if he touched me. I reminded him myself. Often. But the fool didn’t care.
He wanted me anyway. And I guess a part of me liked someone being so crazy about me that they’re willing to risk death.
” I shrug. “So I let him have me. To his own detriment.”
“What happened to him?” Gio asks, more cautiously this time.
“What do you think?” My laugh is brittle. “But my heart was turned off, so it didn’t hurt that time around.”
“Damn,” he mutters. “My future father-in-law doesn’t mess around.”
I laugh at that. “Dad takes oaths seriously. Once trust is broken, that’s it. No grace. No chances.”
Gio dries his sweat with his towel, then loops it around his neck, but his brows pull together with a hint of concern. “If he’s that protective, how come he hasn’t found you by now? Sounds like he has a lot of pull, the type who could track down a ghost.”
“Oh, he has,” I say, matter-of-fact.
Gio’s brows lift. “Wait, really?”
“Yep. He knows exactly where I am.”
“Ah, so should we be expecting him to come busting up in here any day now? Liam Neeson style?”
“Nope. At least not yet.” I stretch my arms over my head, working out the tightness in my shoulders. “My mom’s apparently bedridden, and there’s nothing in this world more important to him than her. So…he’s letting me be. For now.”
Gripping both ends of the towel draped around his neck, Gio watches me like he’s trying to understand me. “You’re tragic, pretty eyes.”
Ugh. I hate that. Hate when people look too closely…
To divert, I lace my fingers behind my back and stretch my arms until my chest pushes forward, the swells of my breasts popping out of my sports bra. Like clockwork, his gaze drops straight to my cleavage.
Once I’m satisfied with the distraction, I bounce to my feet. “Can you spot me on the pull-up bar when you’re done with your set?”
“Uh…” His eyes travel back up to my face. “Yeah. Yeah, sure.”
I amble over to the pull-up bar and lean against the cool metal, watching him work through his set. Every flex and strain of his back muscles is pure art. Broad, sculpted, effortlessly strong. Aesthetically, he’s the complete pack—
Shit.
Our eyes collide in the mirror as he catches me looking. A cocksure smirk sliding across his face, he sends me a wink.