“She’s not my moving company. That’s not how it works.”
“I’ll send some of my men over to carry your things here.”
“But it still has to get packed. If you drive me over now?—”
“Not safe,” he says, cutting me off. “And before you start to argue, I’m telling you straight out. I’m not going to change my mind. You’re not going anywhere. Find another solution.”
I stare at him as fury boils in my stomach. “I’m having a shitty day,” I say through my teeth. “Don’t make it worse. Just take me over so I can pack my things.”
“Call your sister.” He turns to the door and starts to leave.
“You don’t get to do this, you know,” I say to his back, hands turned into fists. I feel small and powerless, and I absolutely hate it. This is the worst feeling in the world. I’ve been struggling my whole life against this exact sort ofsmallness.
“You don’t get to command me like I’m one of your soldiers or something.”
“You’re right. You’re not. I wouldn’t care about any of them enough to keep them home.”
“That’s how you’re going to justify this? You’re not being controlling, you’re just being protective?”
“That’s exactly right.” He looks back at me, face dead serious. “Someone wants you dead, Fiorella. It’s my job to make sure they don’t make it happen.”
One hand brushes against my throat. I remember that big bastard’s palms wrapped around my windpipe, squeezing and squeezing.
“I’m just asking for my things.”
“Call your sister. Tell her to pack what you need.”
The annoying thing is, I’m sure Elisa would do it, but I don’t want to start our relationship out like this. If he knows he can bully me around, he’ll always do it. I can’t back down right now. This is going to set the tone for everything else.
“If you won’t take me, then I’ll get a cab.”
His expression darkens. “Like hell you will. Do you want to die?”
“Maybe I’d rather be dead than a prisoner.”
He snorts, shaking his head. “This is just about the nicestprisonyou’ll ever see.”
“Still a prison.”
I open my mouth to argue, but the doorbell rings. I flinch, looking past him toward the hall, and his expression darkens. He reaches for something in his waistband, and I realize he’s got a gun tucked against the small of his back.
He’s seriously walking around his own house with a weapon?
I follow as he heads downstairs. The doorbell rings a second time, and he’s tense right up until he glances out the front window. Then his entire posture changes as he answers the door.
“How’s the newlywed doing?” Adriano Marino stands on the threshold, grinning as he claps his hand against Luca’s and pulls him into a hug. I recognize him from photographs and from seeing him around my father’s house when they were negotiating my marriage. We spoke once, very briefly. He seemed much more intense than he does right now.
A woman’s with him. She’s petite and very pretty, with little wisps of dark hair framing her delicate face. I like her big, round eyes. They seem very kind, and she’s got a good smile. Plus absolutely perfect posture.
“We’re doing good.” Luca glances back at me as Adriano and the woman come into the house. He shuts the door behind him. “I want you both to officially meet my wife, Fiorella. And Fio, this is Adriano and his wife, Lucy.”
“Good to meet you again,” Adriano murmurs. He shakes my hand with a slight smile when I come down the stairs.
“You know, Luca told me you were pretty, but I didn’t realize how lucky he really was.” Lucy gives me a tight hug. “Welcome to the family.”
“Thank you,” I murmur, surprised at how warm she’s being. “I didn’t know you two were stopping over.” I feel awkward, and the argument I was having with Luca still hasn’t resolved itself.
“We wanted to drop in and check on you two.” Adriano shares a look with Luca. “Can I borrow him for a few minutes?”
