Chapter 12 Love Of My Life
Love Of My Life
Promise me you’re being careful walking home from school. Sorry I’m not there to walk with you anymore. —Love you, Enzo
Enzo
I gave everyone one fucking order. Do not bother me until I give the green light.
But of course, now that the meeting is scheduled, I can’t back out.
Which is why I’m sitting with Isolde in one of the VIP booths, waiting for Giovanni Santorini to arrive so we can discuss the trafficking that’s been happening in this city.
The Santorini's are the other Italian family in the area. We’re not rivals, but we’re not exactly friends either. Unfortunately for them, Papa has more power due to his connections in Italy.
It’s not often that we come together. But more and more girls are going missing, and that's something neither of us will ignore. Gio and I have the best relationship, being closer in age, which is why we work together on occasion.
Izzy’s leg bounces up and down on the seat next to me, so I place my hand on her thigh to steady her. Bad idea. Now I can feel her silky-soft skin beneath my palm.
Christ.
Her dress is barely there and wreaking havoc on my self-control.
I spot Gio moving through the crowd, heading in this direction, so I lean down to speak directly into Izzy’s ear. “Remember to tell me, or tap me, if you feel uncomfortable. We leave straight away, okay?”
She nods, her hand finding mine under the table and squeezing.
Gio reaches the top steps, striding over until he stands at the table edge, eyeing Izzy with more interest than I’d like. I stand, offering my hand, which he takes before sitting on the opposite side of the bench.
“Thanks for meeting me on such short notice,” he says, still eyeing Izzy with intrigue.
I spare a glance at her. Her breathing is shallow, like she’s trying to force herself to stay calm, but her eyes shine with determination.
Leaning in, I whisper, “He’s a friend. You’re safe.”
She relaxes at my words, sagging into me.
I dip my head in acknowledgment to Gio. “What did you want to discuss?” I ask, cutting the bullshit and getting straight to business.
He leans forward, pushing his sleeves up his tattooed arms. “I would prefer we have this conversation alone.”
My jaw tightens. “You can talk freely around her.”
Gio smiles, but it doesn’t meet his eyes. “All the same.”
I nod, standing and offering Izzy my hand. Her delicate fingers are so tiny in mine as she follows me from the booth.
I had the VIP area cleared for the meeting, so fortunately we don’t have to navigate around bodies before reaching the staff-only door at the back. The stairs back here lead to my office, among other things.
Only once we’re inside the soundproofed room do I let go of Izzy’s hand. She deflates like a balloon, shoulders dropping as she releases a lungful of air.
“Are you okay?”
She starts to nod, then shakes her head. I pull her into my arms, her cheek resting against my chest.
“I hate feeling so weak,” she mumbles into the fabric.
I tilt her chin up to look at me. “You’re not weak. I don’t want to hear you call yourself that again.” She swallows hard. “I’m serious. Iz. You’re so fucking strong for coming here tonight. Give yourself more credit.”
Her arms come around my waist before she lets go, stepping back.
“I need to get back downstairs. Will you be okay here?”
She sinks into the armchair, curling her legs up next to her. “I’m okay.”
I hesitate before leaving.
Dante’s outside my office when I shut the door, ready to stand guard. He gives me a subtle nod, letting me know that he has this.
Back downstairs, Gio is where I left him, a strange look on his face.
“Do you know who you’re keeping company with?” he asks as soon as I’m back in my seat.
My spine stiffens. “What do you know?”
“That’s Delaney’s missing wife.”
My hand twitches on my holster. Fuck. I hadn’t considered that anyone would recognize her here. I knew I should have pushed harder to have her stay home.
She makes me forget myself. I’m not usually so reckless.
“What do you know about Lucas Delaney?” I ask, keeping my tone neutral.
Gio leans forward, resting his elbows on the table. “He’s who I wanted to discuss tonight.”
My eyebrows shoot up. “What about him?”
“The girls that have gone missing?” He waits for me to nod. “He’s connected.”
Fuck.
Izzy’s words from when she woke up float through my mind. She had ulterior motives for marrying Lucas. Does she know?
“Tell me everything,” I say, keeping my tone measured. Everything in me is screaming to storm upstairs and demand Izzy tells me everything she’s hiding, but I need as much information as I can get first.
“One of my sister's friends has been taken,” he clenches his jaw as he speaks, “and we managed to track her to a warehouse just outside the city. We lost her, the trail went cold.” His fists tighten. “But that warehouse? It’s owned by one of his biggest backers.”
“And you think Lucas is part of it?”
“I think he’s at the center of it.”
My phone rings before either of us can say anything else. Pressing it to my ear Dante’s voice is frantic. “Boss, we have a problem.”
I’m out of my seat as soon as I hear the words. “Is Izzy safe?”
There’s a pause that has me growling down the phone.
“She ran out of your office crying.” He pants as if he’s running. “She’ll be coming out in a second.”
As soon as he says the words, the back door opens, and Izzy’s figure comes into view. Her eyes track the room frantically until they come to rest on me.
What happens next feels like it’s in slow motion.
Her legs carry her forward, but Dante appears behind her quickly and his hand grasps her shoulder.
Izzy’s body locks up.
She screams.
I’m already moving, but Izzy shocks me.
She spins, lightning-fast, and drives her knee straight into his gut.
Dante stumbles back, cursing, but Izzy doesn’t stop there.
She grabs the wrist of the hand holding his gun and yanks it downward, forcing his arm out of position before slamming her palm up into his elbow.
His fingers spasm, and the gun clatters to the floor.
I barely have time to blink before she snatches it up and whirls, leveling the barrel at his head.
Dante staggers, holding his ribs, his eyes dark with rage—but there’s something else there too. Surprise.
Izzy’s hands tremble around the gun, her breath ragged, but her aim doesn’t waver.
“Don’t—” Dante starts.
“Shut up.” Her voice is ice. Cold, steady, lethal. “Don’t touch me again.”
Her finger tightens on the trigger.
For the first time since I saw her unconscious and bleeding, she’s not the one shaking.
Dante is.
“Izzy,” I say, cautiously, slowing my pace as if approaching a wounded animal, my hands spread placatingly.
She doesn’t look at me. Doesn’t react at all. Her gaze is locked on Dante. It’s then that I realize how unfocused they are. She’s not seeing Dante. She’s seeing him.
Knowing this could go badly very quickly, I keep my steady but slow pace until I’m next to them.
“Izzy,” I repeat, holding out my hand. “Give me the gun.”
Her eyes lift to mine and she sucks in a breath.
“He’s not here, Cuore mio. You’re safe.” I plead with her to believe me. “I’m here.”
Finally, her body deflates, and she sags against me, the gun loosening in her hand enough for me to grab it and pull it away from her. I pass it back to Dante, who looks like his life just flashed before his eyes.
A sob bursts out of Izzy, and I lift her into my arms, one hand on her back, the other under her thighs. She buries her face in my neck as she trembles.
Not wanting to attract more attention, I carry her back to my office, sitting us both onto the sofa so she’s straddling my lap.
After what feels like hours, she finally quiets, her breath turning even.
She’s asleep.
My hand strokes over her hair as I try to make sense of what just happened.
I’m not sure she was even aware of what she was doing. But that just leaves me with more questions. What spooked her?
The lock clicking has my hand resting on my gun. But of course, it’s only Dante. He’s the only one with access.
He takes in Izzy sleeping on my chest and appears to relax, leaning against the door behind him.
“Gio left, but he said he’ll be in touch.”
Goddamn. I forgot he was even here.
“Thank you.”
“What the hell happened?” Dante asks, keeping his voice low.
“That’s what I want to know. She was fine when I left her.”
He shakes his head. “How the fuck did a woman so small manage to disarm me so easily?”
“I think there’s a lot we don’t know about her.”
“Who even is she to you?”
I look down at Izzy in my arms, watching her shoulders rise and fall with each breath. “The love of my life.”
Izzy doesn’t wake up on the journey home, or as I carry her to my room. I should take her to the spare room, but I can’t bear to be away from her. Instead, I place her under the covers, strip down to my boxers, then crawl in beside her, wrapping my arms around her waist.
She’s still in her dress and makeup, but she’s already been violated too many times, having someone touch her without her knowledge or consent.
I can’t do that to her.