VIOLET
The sound of gunshots is muffled but still terrifying as hell. I throw my arms over my head and pray nobody will get hit. Most of the bullets get stuck in the wall, but now and then something shatters or pings.
Suddenly, strong arms surround me, and a body presses itself on top of me, protecting me. I don't need to look up to know it's Marcello, and a sob races through me. He's here. He came.
A hand moves searchingly down my arm, fingers interlacing with mine.
Pippa, I chance a look, and she grins at me.
God help me, she's enjoying this. Luciano has her body covered with his, just like Marcello has mine.
Pippa's eyes move up, indicating Luciano, and she blows me a kiss.
I knew she was crazy, but this is even more than I expected from her.
"I've got you," Marcello whispers in my ear, sending shivers of longing through me.
God, I've missed him. My fear subsides; just his presence is enough to ground me.
This situation is exactly what I've been afraid of, but instead of thinking of my family and fearing for my life, only one thought runs through me. He's here.
The shots keep raging. It feels like I've stepped into a warzone, but it doesn't even matter to me, not now that his arms are around me and his body is pressed against mine. I get it now; I know where I belong with one hundred percent certainty. This is my life, and I get to pick who is in it.
And then, finally, there's merciful silence.
"Boss?" a male voice yells through the stillness from the other side of the door.
"It's Alberto," Luciano announces.
Slowly, Marcello's weight eases off me; he pulls me up. "Are you okay?"
Numbly, I nod. His eyes roam my body to ascertain the truthfulness of my statement, and I notice a gash on his face. "You're bleeding."
His hand follows my eyes and comes back bloody. He grins. "So it seems. Guess I need my nurse back."
His nonchalance is a quick reminder of why I should stay away from him.
For a moment, I falter. Just a moment. Because a man who can smile after he's been shot is just…
just… suicidal, and I don't need that kind of grief in my life.
But that moment fades as quickly as it came, because there is that arrogant smile that I missed so much.
The one that screams, come hell or high water, I'll survive.
My hand is shaking when I reach for a pair of scissors that someone has pinned to a wall, and I cut off part of my shirt to dab at his face.
Familiar butterflies spread through my stomach as he stills my hand with his, pressing his cheek into my palm. Tears sting my eyes. I don't think I have the strength to say goodbye to him again.
I just lived through my worst fear, and here I am, salivating over the man I should be running from.
Luciano's grunts as he moves the filing cabinets to the side bring me back to reality.
"Pippa?" My voice is laced with fear.
"I'm okay," she replies, helping Luciano move the cabinets so we can open the door. Outside, a group of ten men waits for us—all dressed in suits, all holding guns in their hands. I cling to Marcello's side as we exit, and my eyes fall on the dead bodies on the ground.
"Did anybody survive?" Marcello asks.
"We have two in custody," a man I haven't met yet answers.
"Good, take them to the warehouse, make sure they stay alive until I get there."
"Yes, boss."
We enter the main restaurant, where Pippa and I sat not even an hour ago, talking about the very same man I'm clinging to now.
Thankfully, there are no bodies here; it seems all the waiters and customers got out.
Still, the room is a mess. Overturned chairs and tables, broken glass, and dishes litter the floor.
I can hardly believe the sun is still shining when we step outside. People are standing on the other side of the street behind cars, phones up as they film everything, talking to each other as if they're watching a baseball game. In the distance, the wailing of sirens slowly becomes louder.
"Let's get out of here," Marcello says, leading me toward a large, illegally parked black SUV.
"Pippa?"
"Is coming with us," he assures me.
"I'm just saying I should have a gun too," Pippa pouts as she enters the SUV, giving me a glimpse into the conversation she and Luciano seem to be having.
"No," Luciano answers sternly, staring at Pippa the way I've never seen him stare at anyone before.
A mix of respect and annoyance reflects on his face, and for the first time, I realize that Luciano, too, is a very handsome man.
I've always known that on some level, but I've never looked at him in any way other than first as an annoyance and later as a friend.
"Who is your friend?" Luciano asks as he takes a seat.
"Her friend can talk, and my name is Pippa," Pippa replies dryly.
"That's an idiotic name," Luciano replies.
As I snuggle into Marcello's embrace, my heart is still pounding too hard to fully enjoy the little spat between my two friends. Yet, I can't help but watch the show as Marcello barks instructions at the driver.
"Well, let's hear if yours is any better." Pippa challenges, crossing her arms over her ample chest.
"Luciano," he informs her smugly.
Pippa rolls her eyes. "So inventive," she snarks.
"Hey, don't insult my parents," Luciano advises.
"You did it first," Pippa doesn't miss a beat.
Luciano stares at her as if he's ready to strangle her.
"What do we know?" Marcello interrupts.
Luciano pulls out his phone. "We didn't find any IDs on them, but the men didn't have a chance to search all of them before the cops started showing up. There's no way Mallard can cover this up. The fucking cops will be all over our asses on this."
"That's fine. We have nothing to hide. Our guys all got out, right?"
Luciano nods. "We take care of our own, dead or alive."
A few seconds of silence pass, then Marcello says, "They appeared to be Italian." A strange look passes between him and Luciano.
"Could be hired hands. Let's find out what our two hostages have to say."
"Where are we going?" I finally find my voice.
"My penthouse. You'll have to stay there until I can figure out what's going on."
"Oh," my mind goes into overdrive. "What about Pippa?"
"I don't think your friend is in any imminent danger. But if it makes you feel better, she can stay with Luciano. He'll keep her safe."
Luciano grunts, but doesn't reply. Neither does Pippa.
"I need to get some of my things… and Felix."
"Felix?" Marcello's voice jumps in alarm.
"My cat, remember?"
With a deep sigh, Marcello pulls out his phone and calls Alejandro to instruct him to get my cat. "Happy now?"
Not really, because… Alejandro… if he hurts Felix, I'll shoot him myself.
Marcello's expression is unreadable. Nervously, I chew on my lower lip. Despite us sitting so close, with his arm draped over mine and our thighs pressed together, I feel an abyss between us. A deep, unsettling abyss, and I have no idea how to cross it.
Grovel, Pippa's eyes tell me, as if she can read my mind. I widen mine at her. Yeah, not happening.
She huffs, and Luciano asks her if she's okay.
Part of me wants to argue with Marcello that Pippa should stay with me, but I'm also aware that we need to talk. Besides, from the looks of it, she and Luciano may be hitting it off. I've never seen her this animated.
"Do you think my family is in danger?" I manage to ask in a low voice.
"No. They used you as bait," Marcello nearly spits the last word, "and they'll pay for it. Your family should be safe, but if it makes you feel better, I can assign a team to keep an eye on them."
"Thank you. Yes." I bury my face in his chest, still unable to look at him. I know I hurt him. Hell, I hurt myself. How can we ever get over something like that?
The SUV comes to a stop in front of Marcello's skyscraper. More guards than I'm used to are standing watch as we enter first the foyer and then the elevator. Luciano and Pippa get off on a different floor. She waves at me, grinning from ear to ear. She really is having the time of her life.
"We'll meet at the warehouse as soon as the women are settled," Marcello says before Luciano closes the door.
Silence stretches between us once it's only him and me in the elevator. The silence seems to become louder with each second that passes—Jesus, the ride never took this long before—until I can't take it any longer.
"Thank you."
His arm stiffens, and he pulls me closer. "You have no reason to thank me. It's because of me that you were in this situation."
I can't deny that truth. "Still. I mean it. Thank you."
He doesn't respond, only stares at the wall. I don't know what to make of his silence. Is he angry with me?
"You didn't have to come." Sometimes I hate my tongue. In times like this, it seems like it has a mind of its own, or maybe none at all, because if it had a mind, it wouldn't have blurted these words out.
He turns to me. His hand reaches for me, and his knuckles land underneath my chin as he props it gently up, forcing me to look at him. "I will always come for you, tesoro."
His use of the endearment nearly brings me to tears. They burn in my eyes because I read the truth of his statement in his.
"I hurt you. I'm sorry."
"You had your reasons." He responds as his eyes burn into mine. "I can't say they weren't valid."
I pull my lower lip between my teeth, in part to keep my traitorous tongue in check and in part because I need to feel the pain to distract me from my constricting throat and the ache in my heart.
The elevator finally stops, and the doors slide open. The familiar surroundings of the anteroom, with the guards, feel like coming home. I even know the names of the two men stationed by the door. They nod at me, recognizing me at once, too.
"Miss Violet," Hugo greets me.
"How is the rash?" I ask him.
"Rash?" Marcello queries.
"You were right, Miss Violet. It was the laundry soap. The wife switched it back, and presto, no more rash."
"Oh, good. I love it when I'm right." I grin at him.
Shaking his head, Marcello leads me into the penthouse. "Do you treat all my men?"
"Only when they obviously need something," I respond with a small grin.
Hugo hadn't exactly asked me for my expertise, but it would have been hard not to notice the red blotches on his hand and the way he was rubbing his back against the wall—like a shedding bear.
So yeah, I might have overstepped and chatted with him.
His eyes darken, and he pulls me into his chest. "Losing you was never an option."
His words sear through me like a flame. I sling my arms around his waist and hold on to him for dear life.
"I missed you," I admit.
He laughs bitterly. "Not as much as I you."
"Well, it's about time you two came to your senses," Zia Rosa emerges from the kitchen like an avenging demon from hell.
I've seen her temper rise and her fury turn on the men.
So far, it has never been directed at me, but right now, I could swear there is steam coming from her nostrils.
Involuntarily, I shrink closer to Marcello.
"Zia Rosa," I greet her, but my voice is quivering.
"Don't you Zia Rosa me, young lady. If you ever put my dear boy through this kind of misery again, I'll poison your food."
"Zia Rosa," Marcello barks.
"It's true. Look at you. You haven't eaten since she left. Bah, you're barely a skeleton."
"Zia Rosa, that's enough," Marcello warns.
"Bah, enough. I decide when it's enough. What do you have to say in your defense, young lady?"
"I'm… sorry," I whisper. I swear, she's more formidable than a nun with a ruler. Especially holding the feared kitchen towel.
"Not to me."
"Zia Rosa," Marcello's voice turns cold; his discomfort should have made me giggle, but Zia Rosa is putting the fear of God in me.
"No, she's right. I'm sorry. To both of you. I got scared," I apologize.
Zia Rosa's features soften. "I get that. Come here, dolcezza. I missed you."
With a small cry, I throw myself against her ample bosom and savor her warm softness.
She puts her arms around me and presses me with surprising strength.
Her embrace says so much more than words.
I can feel her unconditional love for me, and it brings tears to my eyes.
I don't think my mom ever hugged me the way Zia Rosa is doing right now.
She's like the grandma I never had but so often wished for.
"I'm sorry, Zia Rosa."
"It's alright, bambina. Next time you come to Zia Rosa, before you make any rash decision, capiche?"
"Capiche." I smile at her and am rewarded by a long kiss against my forehead.
"And you," she turns to Marcello.
"What did I do?" I nearly laugh despite everything that has happened so far today. Watching this giant mafia boss turn into a petulant little boy is the funniest thing I've ever seen.
"Ti amo," she says simply. "There's lasagna in the oven and garlic bread. Help yourselves. I need to get home."
Curiously, I notice that Marcello looks uncomfortable after hearing those words. Zia Rosa cocks her head, waiting for the natural response to her words. But nothing comes from him.
"Oh, you big brat." She sighs, turning on her heel and enveloping Marcello in one of her big bear hugs. "I know you love me, too."
Marcello grunts some kind of affirmation, looking even more uncomfortable.
After she's gone, Marcello turns to me, "Will you be okay here alone? I need to check on something with Luciano."
"The men you took prisoner?"
He doesn't answer, only nods curtly.
"If this is going to work," I move my hand back and forth between us, "then we need to talk to each other."
"And we will, as soon as I'm back," he promises.
I shake my head, "That's not what I meant. I meant I need to know what's going on."
His expression is unreadable. "As I said, we'll talk about it as soon as I'm back. In the meantime, try to relax, tesoro. How about a hot bath?"
A bath sounds actually heavenly right now, and I know that he needs to go, but there is one more thing I need to know. "Felix?"
"Alejandro is on it," He promises. "Will you be okay?"
I nod and watch him walk to the door through which Zia Rosa just vanished.
He hesitates. His shoulders straighten as if he's come to a decision, and my heart plummets.
But then he turns and strides toward me.
Uttering the growl I've missed so much, he grabs my hair and bends my head back, before landing his lips on mine.
His kiss is hard and punishing. It holds all the pent-up desire I feel as well, and I cling to him with all I have, responding to his kiss as if this were our last.
Way too soon, he lets me go. "I won't be long," He promises, then leaves.