Elisa is taking the news of her new husband rather well. I was expecting more theatrics. It’s expected that she would be shocked at finding out her late husband has chosen her future husband. But when she mentions the word love, there’s a lost look in her eyes that tells me she craves this. I refuse to lie to her. I’m not sure I’m capable of loving another woman the way I loved Maria, and I’m sure I never want to go through that pain again. Instead, I offer Elisa respect, honesty, and fidelity. This I can and will do.
“We don’t have to work out all the details tonight,” I tell her. She looks tired, and there’s already been so much thrown at her.
She looks up at me, her lower lip trembling, and says, “What if Adriana doesn’t want me to be her mother? She has you, and she’s always had you. She may not want you to share your attention. This will be a huge change for her.”
“It’s because you care about Adriana that I know she’ll love you.” I take her hand in mine. “Regretfully, Adriana doesn’t remember her mother. It’s both a blessing and a curse. She’s fortunate to have had Mrs. Withers, Peppa, and Evangeline to give her a woman’s influence, but she needs a woman in her life who will make her a priority and not just bits and pieces of time to entertain her. You’re that woman, Elisa. I’ve seen the immense compassion and patience you have. In return, I’ll make sure that you’re well taken care of,” I say. I can see that she has something she wants to say. “Ask me,” I encourage. “I prefer forthright honesty between us.”
“Many men feel that they can exert their physical strength over their wives. I know this to be true.” She glances down, avoiding my eyes.
“I swear to you that I’ll never lay a hand on you in anger. However, you will be my wife, and this means that you’ll be expected to attend functions, and because of my relationship and position with Raffaele, you need to work with Evangeline. I can’t see this as a problem, seeing that she’s one of the kindest people I know.” Elisa needs to know her role. Being Guido’s wife meant that she was able to hide away from the rest of the family for the most part. This will change for her.
“Evangeline is probably the only person I would consider a friend.” She grants me a smile.
“We have three months to get to know one another. After which, I assume a quiet ceremony with only immediate families present would suit both of us. Although, it would be appropriate to have the most senior underbosses in attendance. This will be expected. Depending on Raffaele’s plans, I may be able to get away for a long weekend. We’ll live here, of course.”
“Can we talk about the details at another time? This is all a little much,” Elisa says, tugging her hand away. “I understand this has all been decided, and I have to be okay with that, but perhaps we can save the rest for later.”
“Fair enough.” I sigh. “I’ll take you home.”
“No. I promised Adriana a story. I’d like to keep my promise, please.”
My chest swells. It’s been a while since I’ve been happily surprised. “I’m sure she’d enjoy that.” I lead her back out of the room, and when we reach the hall, I hear tiny footsteps racing above us and Evangeline calling for Adriana to slow down.
We look up and find Adriana peering through the wrought iron pickets of the stairs, her hair still damp from her bath, wearing her pink-and-white footie pajamas.
“I’m ready for a story,” my little girl announces.
“Here I come,” Elisa replies and heads up the stairs. She takes Adriana’s hand. I watch as my daughter tugs Elisa in the direction of Adriana’s bedroom. Raffaele has a soft spot for my daughter. Having no family means that Uncle Rafe is the only other family Adriana has. Raffaele has been there from the day Adriana was born and has seen us through the worst time of our lives. I can’t even remember how often Raffaele has pulled me out of the darkness of my thoughts.
While I was mourning Maria, Raffaele acted as Adriana’s father and mother. So, it stands to reason that when Raffaele built this home, there would be a place for her. I like having my daughter with me, but from time to time, it’s nice to have a break.
“Come on,” Raffaele calls out to me, jerking his head toward his study. Once the door has shut behind us, he hands me a glass. His finest scotch. It’s a pleasure we both share. He clinks his glass to mine. “Congratulations to the groom.” He lifts one side of his mouth in a sly grin.
“Yeah.” I take a swig, feeling a burn as I swallow.
“Are you doing okay with this?” he asks with concern. I know he’s referring to my vow never to marry again. I was vehemently opposed to taking another wife. Raffaele understands that I loved Maria. We chose each other, despite her father’s attempt to marry her off to another.
“I’m fine, Rafe. I made a vow, and I’m keeping it.”
“I get that, but are you going to be able to be the husband Elisa needs? This isn’t going to be easy on her either.”
“Elisa was born into this world knowing that she has little choice when it comes to marriage. She’s apprehensive, understandably, but she’s sensible. I’ve made no false promises of love. But we can make this work.”
Raffaele nods. “I’d like for you to be happy,” he says, gripping my shoulder. “You deserve a woman like my Evangeline.”
“Elisa is a good woman. I hold no delusions of a starry-eyed bride with love in her eyes. We’ve both been married before. We both know our place. It will be a solid marriage, and that will be good enough.”
For a moment, it looks like he’s going to say something more, but he decides against it. Instead, he lifts the glass to his lips, and we drink in silence. A short time later, Elisa and Evangeline come back down. That’s my cue to go upstairs and tuck my daughter into bed and give her a good-night kiss. I rarely miss that part of our night.
Once I return, I see Elisa at the door. “It’s getting rather late. Perhaps I could get a lift home? If you can spare one of your men.” Elisa asks.
“I’ll take you,” I say.
She gives me a small smile. “Thank you.”
On the way back to her place, Elisa talks about her time with Adriana. “She’s a sweet little girl. I had to tuck in her stuffed rabbit too.” Elisa giggles. I let her talk, and I find that I like hearing her voice. Normally, a woman droning on would annoy the fuck out of me, but not when it’s Elisa.
I walk her to her door, taking the key and opening it for her. “I’ll be back on Monday. I’ll sort through Guido’s office myself.”
“Oh, all right.”
She’s nervous as she peers up at me through lowered lashes. She’s blushing, and it’s adorable. I find myself bending and brushing my lips over her reddened cheek. Her lips part slightly in surprise. I love that I can make her body react to mine. It will make bedding my new wife much easier.
“Good night, regina mia. In you go, and lock the door behind you,” I tell her. I stay until I hear the latch, then go back to my car and make a call. It’s time to up the security for Elisa. Being my bride means she’s more of a target than before.
It took great restraint on my part to wait until Monday to show up at Elisa’s home. I’m a busy man, but in the little time I did have, I found myself thinking about the dark-haired beauty who is soon to be my wife. I knew Elisa when she was engaged to Guido and thought she was a nice girl, conservative and well-mannered. This is what our expectations are for all our daughters; it’s part of their grooming to be obedient wives. I don’t want that for Adriana. I want her to be strong in mind and body. As soon as she’s old enough, I’m going to teach her self-defense. Being consigliere has its advantages and disadvantages. The biggest problem is the enemy using your family to get back at you.
Elisa needs to have an extra guard on her at all times. She’s been safe up to now because she rarely left the house and spent her time looking after her husband. As my wife, she’ll be expected to attend functions with me, along with Evangeline. Raffaele is meticulous in organizing Evangeline’s protection, and I’ll do the same for my family.
I think back on Elisa’s flushed cheeks and the way her eyes avoided mine when I kissed her cheek. She was married four years, and she still has the capacity to blush. Extraordinary! Perhaps it’s because she’s been tucked away in her home for so long. I’m not sure if she realizes that her body betrays her when I am near. But I see it. I held her hand and felt her pulse race as we spoke. It could have been the shock from declaring marriage, but I think it’s more.
I see my man’s car at the end of her driveway and give him a two-finger salute to let him know I’m here and stop to let him know he can take a break. He’s been keeping watch all night, and his replacement doesn’t arrive for another hour. I’m sure he could use the extra sleep, so I send him on his way.
Elisa opens the door looking totally fuckable in tight, faded blue jeans and a well-worn red sweatshirt two sizes too big for her. So big, in fact, that it hangs off one shoulder, showing me a glimpse of her creamy white skin. Her hair is pulled back from her face in a messy knot on the top of her head, and when I look her over from top to toe, I see that she’s standing in bare feet.
“Good morning,” she says, her voice husky and soft. When I don’t reply, she quickly adds, “I was cleaning. You know, vacuuming and such.” Her voice tapers off, and she bites her lower lip.
I step into the hallway and see that she does have the vacuum pulled out and a bucket with all kinds of cleaning products in it.
“Don’t you have a housekeeper?” I ask.
“Well, I, um…did, but Guido’s father said that he couldn’t afford to keep paying for the luxury. I thought it was coming from our money, but I guess it wasn’t.” She gives a shrug. “I don’t mind cleaning. It keeps me busy and gives me something to do. Besides, I don’t make much of a mess.” She chuckles.
She’s laughing, and I’m fuming. How fucking dare Guido’s father cut down her allowance. We entrusted him to look after the major finances of the home after Guido’s death as a courtesy and because he practically begged Raffaele to allow him to look after Elisa while she was getting used to life without her husband. What else is she doing without?
I look around the home and note that some of the paintings are missing from the walls. “Have there been many changes?” I ask nonchalantly.
“Just a few, but I don’t mind,” she says hurriedly.
“I’d like to know what they are, as I have to account for the money that’s being spent.” I take her hand and lead her down the corridor and through to Guido’s office. Someone’s been at his desk. The top of the desk was meticulous when I came by last week. Now, there are papers scattered about. “Who’s been in this room?” I bark a little too harshly, as Elisa jumps at the tone of my voice.
“Bru…Bruto was by yesterday. He said he needed something that Guido was keeping for him. I don’t think he found it, though, because he kept asking me where else Guido kept his documents.” Her voice is shaky and uncertain. I can see she’s hesitant to talk to me about the visit with Bruto. Guido’s father has always been a good man and a loyal member of Ultimo Morte. In his younger years, he was a force to be reckoned with, I hear. Age has not been kind to him. The once virile and energetic man is now overweight and balding, but he always seems to have his finger on the pulse of his crew, and there’s never been any problem with his work.
“You’re not in trouble, Elisa, but I need you to tell me everything you remember about his visit yesterday.” I lead her to the leather chair near the window and take the seat across from her after she sits. “Start at the beginning.”
“There’s not much to tell, really. Bruto came by and said that there were some paintings he wanted to take home because they had sentimental value and had been in the family for years. I said he could take what he wanted. Then he asked to see Guido’s personal possessions, and I told him I had them in a safety deposit box at the bank. I wanted to keep them safe. He wasn’t happy about that and told me he would come sometime this week, and we could go to the bank together.”
I interrupt and ask, “What kind of personal items is he talking about?”
“Jewelry, mainly. Guido had quite a few nice watches and rings.” She smiles warmly. “I used to buy them for our anniversary. He loved his bling,” she teases. “I explained to Bruto that these were gifts I gave Guido, but he was adamant about going.” She shrugs. “I have nothing to hide. He can check if he wishes.”
“And this room?” I persist.
“Oh, yes. Bruto left something in here after the funeral, and he was looking for it. I didn’t think it was a big deal. After all, it belonged to him.”
“Bruto got rid of the housekeeper. What other changes has he made?”
“Since I live here and Raffaele gives me an allowance, Bruto says that I’m responsible for paying the bills on the house. It makes sense,” she says innocently.
“That money was meant for your personal use,” I say, doing my best to keep my anger in check.
“Personal use?” She looks confused.
“You know, stuff like doing your hair or getting your nails done and shit.”
“Oh well, I don’t need all that, and I do live here. It should be my responsibility to pay the bills.” Elisa can see that I’m getting agitated and is trying to pacify me, which only pisses me off more. Bruto’s been taking from his daughter-in-law, a vulnerable woman, during a difficult period.
“You’re not to go to the bank with Bruto, do you understand?” I tell her firmly.
“But I promised.”
“I am unpromising on your behalf. I’ll call Bruto myself. As for the paintings, he had no right to take anything out of this house. This house and all things in it belong to you. I’ll get them back for you.”
“He can have them. They’re just things.” Elisa reaches out to take my hand. “It’s fine. There are a few pieces I’d like to keep that belonged to Guido because they hold fond memories, but the rest of this,” she waves her hand around the room, “is stuff. And what happens when we get married? It will need to be sold or given away, right? Let Bruto have what he wants.”
“First, you will choose what you want to keep for yourself. Put them aside, and once we’re married, we’ll find a place to store them. The house is yours. If you want to sell it, then go ahead. But you can rent it out and make an income, if you choose. That money is yours either way,” I explain. “Bruto will do as he’s told to do. He’s being disrespectful to you. He knows this is not our way. We take care of our own and all widows are looked after for the rest of their days. He knows this and yet has decided to shirk his duty and take money out of your pocket.”
“You’re getting very upset,” she says. “I won’t go with Bruto.” She makes the sign of the cross over her heart, says, “Cross my heart,” and gives me a shy grin. How is it possible that I want to laugh and scream at the same time? Elisa is too naive. She sees the good in everyone. It’s a wonder she hasn’t been taken advantage of before now.
I can’t help but smile. “No one else comes into this room except me or Raffaele.”
“Aye-aye, Captain,” she teases. “Shall I get the captain some coffee before he starts in on that mess?” She points to the desk.
“That would be great,” I reply, and she takes her hand back and gets up to leave. I don’t like it. I want to keep her with me. Hell, I want to haul her into my arms and kiss her. I haven’t felt this compulsion to want a woman since Maria.
I’ve had other women, but never did I kiss them. Kissing is more intimate than fucking. Fucking is instant sexual gratification, whereas kissing requires you to look into a woman’s eyes and straight to her soul. The connection between two people starts with a kiss. At least it does for me. That’s why I haven’t kissed another woman since my wife’s death.
There’s something special about Elisa. She’s nothing like Maria, and yet my attraction to her is uncompromising. I want her. She’s mine, and I vow to protect her. I wait until she leaves the room, then take out my phone.
It rings only once before Raffaele answers. “You good?” he asks.
“Something’s off. Bruto is behaving oddly. It doesn’t feel right.”
“For instance?”
“He took art off the walls and wanted to go through Guido’s personal belongings. And he’s been in Guido’s office. Elisa questioned him about it, but he said it was on Raffaele’s orders. I didn’t think it was my place to question him on this.”
“What for?”
“No clue, man. Elisa said he didn’t look happy when he left. She doesn’t think he found what he was looking for.” I pause, then add, “And get this, Bruto’s making Elisa pay for the expenses on the house from the money we give her monthly.”
“What the fuck!” Raffaele’s roar is loud enough to make me move the phone from my ear. “That’s not what the money was meant for.”
“He’s cutting corners and taking from his daughter-in-law. Shit’s not right.”
Raffaele lets out a heavy breath. “I’ll put a man to watch him. See if you can find what Bruto was looking for.”
“On it.” I hang up and get to work. The only time I take a break is when Elisa brings me my coffee, then later brings in lunch for me. Each time, she knocks and waits for me to reply before entering. She’s a dutiful woman and, as she’s already said, knowing too much can get you killed. Unfortunately, being married to a Mafia man can get you killed, regardless of what you do or do not know.
I ask her to keep me company while I eat, and she sits, perched on the edge of her chair, while we talk. Once Elisa relaxes, the conversation flows easily.
“I have a fairly boring life,” she responds when I ask her about what she likes to do.
“No hobbies?” I inquire.
She bites her lower lip. “You’ll think I’m silly.”
“Try me.”
“I like to knit and crochet. And when I have time, I like to sew,” she blurts out. “I know I sound like a nonna from the 1950s, but I find it gratifying to make something myself.”
I hold my laughter in check because she’s so cute as she sits primly wringing her hands in her lap, and because Elisa is already self-conscious and working herself up for no reason.
“It’s a lost art. You’re right, though. Most women have bypassed some of the most traditional hobbies for some more modern ones, but that doesn’t make what you do less interesting. Can you show me some of the things you’ve made?” I ask.
She walks over to the sofa, where a cream-and-taupe knitted throw lies on the arm. She brings it over and puts it in my hands. “This is just one of mine. I have others scattered around the house.”
I run my fingers over the soft wool. I see the diamond design throughout and the edging with tassels. “This must have taken you weeks,” I murmur. I know nothing about knitting, but I have an idea of the attention to detail and the patience it would take to make something like this.
“It did. And I had to take it apart twice because I messed it up. But I felt great when I finally finished it. It’s the last one I’ve made, and I think it’s the best one so far.”
“It’s beautiful,” I reply and extend my hands to give it back to her.
“Do you really like it?”
I look into her eyes and see that shining light of pride. “I do. It’s exquisite.”
She smiles and pushes the blanket closer to me. “Please take it. It’s not doing anyone any good in here, and you can use it or give it to Adriana. She might like it.”
“I think I’ll keep this one. You may have to make a purple-and-pink one for Adriana, though,” I tease. Elisa giggles. It feels good that I can make her laugh. It feels very good.
“I should let you get back to it.” She looks around the room. “There’s a ton of books on the shelf that Guido used to have me pull down for him too. I’m not sure they mean anything, but you should take a look.”
I stand and move back to the piles of papers on the desk. “Can you grab them for me? Might as well add them to this pile.” I busy myself sorting through another stack of files. Up to now, there hasn’t been anything of significance that would cause me to worry, yet Bruto’s behavior is out of character and leads me to think I’m missing something. I hear Elisa walking the length of the wall-to-wall bookcase, taking the books off the shelf. I glance over to find her stepping up on one of the lower shelves, reaching for a book just out of her grasp.
Immediately, I’m up and stalking toward her, just in time, as her foot slips and she loses her balance. I catch her before she topples to the floor, my hands at her waist, while the books she was carrying fall to the ground.
Elisa lets out a yelp as I grab her and move her away from the mess on the floor.
“Jesus Christ, you could have killed yourself!” I bite out. Elisa tries to move away from me, but I hold her tightly in place, then pull her so that her back is to my front, without any space between us. I wrap one arm around her, just below her breasts, and inhale the scent of jasmine from her hair.
I want to bury my face in her neck, take in her scent, press my lips to the smooth column of her neck. Her heart is racing. She places her hand over mine at her middle. “I…I’m all right,” she whispers, husky and breathless. “You can let me go.”
That’s the last thing I want to do. I’d rather yank her over to the sofa, tear off her top, and gaze upon her perky breasts. Then take a nipple in my mouth and suckle until she squirms under me, calling my name.
I can’t do that. I vowed to give Elisa six months, and my oath is my bond. I slowly let her go, but not before I brush my stubbled chin against her cheek, then place my lips near her ear. “You have to be more careful, regina mia.” I slowly release her, and I swear I hear her whimper as I move back.
I look at the books scattered on the floor, ready to bend and retrieve them, when I hear Elisa gasp.
“Oh my God!” she cries and runs over to a hardcover book that’s fallen open, revealing that the pages were cut out and something small was hidden inside it. “Look!” She picks it up and hands it to me.
“Whatever was inside must have fallen out,” I murmur. We both scan the area, and I see a black USB key next to the leg of the coffee table. “Found it,” I tell her, then more firmly, “Elisa, I need to be alone. Please stay clear of this room until I call for you.”
She doesn’t bat an eye, but picks up the empty plates from our lunch, sparing me a fleeting glance, then promptly leaves. I look up at the bookshelves. There are hundreds of books to go through. There’s no telling how many Guido’s used as hiding spots. I would think they would be on the lower shelves, but if he’s asked Elisa to pull down the ones on the higher shelves, it’s possible there are more to be found.
I send Raffaele a text.
Me: This is a two-person job.
Raffaele: Who do you want?
I give it some thought before texting back. It has to be someone in the inner circle, and there are very few that Raffaele truly trusts. I finally respond.
Me: Francesco.
Raffaele: Shit! He’s on his way.
Francesco is Evangeline’s bodyguard. Whenever Raffaele can’t accompany her, Francesco’s on duty, and he takes his responsibilities very seriously. Raffaele would give him a slow and painful death if anything happened to his wife. He’s one of the best soldiers I’ve trained. Francesco took another path before coming back to Ultimo Morte. At nineteen, he approached Raffaele and begged him to let him join the army. Francesco and his father were always at odds, and he feared that one day, the damage between father and son would be irreparable. Raffaele agreed, much to Francesco’s father’s dismay, but it was the best thing for both of them.
Francesco came back four years later a changed man. He climbed the ranks in the army into a special ops team and became a sniper. But not just any sniper, the best his unit had, and they weren’t too happy when Francesco decided he’d had enough and came home. Francesco learned that the ugly part of the Mafia life is just a glimpse of the real world. Ugliness exists everywhere, sometimes disguised as innocence. He’s seen kids using machine guns, female suicide bombers, villages torn apart for the sheer hell of it. Although the lines have blurred through the years in the Mafia world, there’s still a sense of honor among the families that uphold their traditions.
Raffaele has always had the attitude that he won’t begin a fight, but he will certainly destroy the enemy if he comes knocking at his door. Francesco sees Raffaele and the family for what it is. He’s a hard man to get to know, but once you do, you can see that he’s one of the most loyal people I’ve ever met. His father continues to build his empire, and one day, Francesco will become the new underboss for the territory, but for now, he’s content with holding one of the most important roles in Raffaele’s eyes: protecting Evangeline.
I alert Elisa that I’m expecting Francesco so that she can let him right in and direct him to the office. Once he arrives, we divide and conquer. I weed through the paperwork, one page at a time, while Francesco starts at one end of the shelves and goes through each book with a fine-tooth comb. It’s going to take more than a day to get through it all.
It’s almost three hours later, and we’ve barely made a dent in it all. That’s when I hear the faint voices that seem to be coming from the front of the house. One voice grows louder and sounds insistent. I open the office door. I can’t get a visual on who’s here, but I can hear Elisa pleading with him.
“I already showed Bruto everything Guido had. I’m not sure what you want. If you tell me what you’re looking for—” Elisa starts.
She’s rudely interrupted by a male voice. “Just move out of the way, and I’ll find what I need.” Then I hear Elisa crying out in pain, but standing her ground. “This is my house, and I don’t want you in Guido’s bedroom.”
“I’m here at Bruto’s request. Don’t make me hurt you,” the menacing voice threatens.
The words hardly come out of his mouth before I’m racing down the hall to find Elisa on the first step to the stairway, her fingers clinging to the banister, and a man with his back to me, whose large hand is wrapped around Elisa’s arm as she winces in pain.
I stalk the last twenty feet to where they stand, but I call out a warning. “I suggest you take your hands off her if you want to keep your fingers.”
Elisa looks over the shoulder of the guy who has her in his grip, and when the man turns to see who it is and finds me, his jaw clenches and a fleeting look of fear passes over his face. He lets go of Elisa. I recognize him as Ruggero Botano, Bruto’s son-in-law.
Ruggero recovers quickly and plasters on a smile, pretending like I didn’t just see him manhandling my woman.
“You do not put your hands on a woman in anger. And never in my presence.” I know how to make my tone sound lethal, and it seems I accomplished my task. Ruggero drops the smile and goes on the defensive.
“Ivo, I can explain.” Ruggero raises his hands as if to ward me off.
“I’m listening,” I tell him, quirking my brow and crossing my arms over my chest.
“You see, Bruto is desperately missing his son, and he wants to surround himself with memories of him. We’re family. I want to make him feel better. I thought I’d come over and take a few things to help console him in this difficult time.” Ruggero goes for a heartfelt plea, but I’m not buying what he’s peddling. It’s utter and complete bullshit.
“And at this difficult time, did anyone consider that Elisa needed to be consoled? Where have you and the family been for the last three months?” I sneer. Ruggero is at a loss for words, mainly because there’s no answer to my question that would satisfy me, and he knows it. “And when has it ever been acceptable to lay your hand on another man’s wife?” I add.
Ruggero’s face grows pale, and he mutters, “I’m sorry. I was just trying to help an old man ease his pain, and I wanted Elisa to step aside and let me pass.”
“Your apology should be to Elisa. And this home, as of this morning, is under constant watch by me, under Raffaele’s orders. Do not show up here unexpectedly and demand a damn thing,” I say, taking a step toward him. Ruggero shifts his feet but holds his ground. I look past him to Elisa. “Go upstairs, please.” It wasn’t a request, and Elisa scurries up the stairs. I wait until I hear the bedroom door shut.
“This is all a big mistake. You’re making a big deal out of nothing,” Ruggero snaps. The man knows my temper, and he’s seen me rip a man apart with my bare hands. Ruggero quickly changes his expression and puts a smile on his face. “This is just a misunderstanding.”, his tone completely subdued. He has every right to be nervous.
“Let me make this clear for you, and you can take this back to Bruto. Raffaele and I have already discovered that you haven’t been looking after Elisa’s bills. In good faith, we let you handle the funds because Bruto begged to take care of the estate. As of this moment, that changes. The money will stop, and Raffaele will do this himself. I’ve seen the mess in Guido’s office. Someone’s been in there searching for something. It would be in your and Bruto’s best interest to speak up now. If you’re hiding something, we’ll find out, and I’ll remind you, Raffaele will not be merciful if he discovers this on his own.” I see the wheels spinning as he comes up with a plausible excuse. I don’t have enough proof yet that Ruggero or Bruto are involved in something they shouldn’t be, but I’m certain something’s amiss.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about. I’m not aware of what Bruto does or doesn’t do with his money,” he says. “But I’ll be sure to give him your message.” Ruggero moves to brush past me, and as he does, I grab him by the collar, lifting him up onto his toes and forcing him to meet my eyes.
“If you ever touch Elisa again, it will be the last thing you do. Am I understood?” I growl.
“Yes,” he grits out.
I drop him and watch him leave the premises. I advise the man I have standing at the gate that I want to know if Ruggero or Bruto ever return to the house.
I’m discovering Guido had secrets, and they could be deadly to Ultimo Morte.