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“I doubt the notorious Don Ajello would tire himself out over poor little me,”
“She called me an idiot, almost knocked me over, and then delivered a baby in the middle of a parking lot. She also confiscated my jacket in the course of this escapade.” Nino bursts out laughing behind me. “Well, I see why you found her interesting.”
“Don’t you send anyone to follow me. I’ve already told you to lose that habit of yours.” “I’m your chief of security. How do you expect me to do my job if you don’t let me?”
“Go over now. Make him marry you. You’ll never have to work again.” She giggles. I snort. What she’s suggesting is the exact thing I’ve been trying my damnedest to avoid.
At one time, my sister Bianca and I had an agreement that we’d never get married. We planned on being cat ladies, living in houses that smelled like pee.” I reach for my cappuccino. “That was until she upended her half of the bargain and married a scary Russian guy. I changed my perspective on marriage for real after that.”
“Yeah, but he’s in India right now. A yoga retreat or something like that. He probably sent someone to handle the fridge thing for him. Why do you ask?” “I hear India’s nice. He should consider staying there. It would be good for his health.”
“You are one extremely unusual creature, Goldie,” he whispers into my ear. His voice is rough and hypnotizing, sending a shiver down my spine. “And I like unusual things very much.”
“Why didn’t you just tell me to leave New York? You knew who I was from the start.” “I planned on doing that. It would have made things much easier.” I reach out and take a strand of her hair between my fingers. “However, the situation has changed.” “Why? In what way?” Because I’ve decided I won’t let her go anywhere.
“You can’t run from Cosa Nostra, Milene,” I say and move my hand.
This shit is for real. Me. Married. To the fucking Don of New York.
“Does it bother you? That I’m missing part of my leg?” “Nope.” She smiles. “But you being a lying bastard, does.”
“What I am, is uninterested.” “Uninterested.” I nod. He’s absolutely nuts. “About the people who work for you, or people in general?” “In general. With one exception,” he says and levels me with that unnerving gaze of his. “You.”
That cat looks like it survived a nuclear catastrophe.
“I’m not jealous.” I take a sip of coffee. “I just have an uncontrollable urge to kill any man who even looks at my wife.”
“You’re safe with me because I’m the worst it can get, cara. And no one will dare touch what is mine.”
“So, what, you’ll do as you’ve been doing so far and wait for it to happen?” “No. I’ll try my best to kill them first.” “Then, try harder damn it!”
“Would it bother you if I got killed?” “Jesus fuck, Salvatore!” I snap. “Would it bother me? Are you for real?” “Yes. I want to know.” “You want to know.” I blink, not believing what I’m hearing. “He wants to know if it would bother me if he got killed.”
“No more gunshot wounds. Promise me.” “I’ll try.” I sigh and close my eyes. He’ll try. Perfect.
“Do you want something to eat?” I ask. “Yes.” “Okay, I’ll check if Ada left anything in the fridge. Do you want something in particular?” “Yes.” Salvatore pulls on my hand and turns me toward him. “You. Get on the counter.”
“You had her to yourself for nine months, Milene,” he says in that grave tone that makes even the most bizarre statement sound absolutely solid. “It’s my turn now.” “She was inside my belly, Salvatore. It doesn’t count.” “In my book, it does.”
