Page 30 of Sins of Bliss


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“Not exactly a red flag, but I’ll take your word for it as being odd. So what do you think is going on?”

“I’m not sure,” I tell him honestly. Exasperation fills my chest—a sense of helplessness.

“Isn’t the wedding soon? Next weekend, right?”

“This weekend.” I swallow thickly. “The wedding is this weekend.”

Silence fills the study again, and moments later footsteps approach before Mamma pops her head around the door. “Would you boys like some gelato?”

Enzo laughs, standing with his glass in his hand. He tosses back the remaining sip of his whiskey and walks toward Mamma.

“Zia, do men eat gelato?” he teases.

She pushes the door open further and pulls the dish towel from her shoulder, swatting it at his chest lightly. “Yes, Lorenzo, they do. Antonio, Federico,andGuilio are already enjoying their bowls. You’re never too old for gelato.”

Mamma meets my gaze from across the room and offers me a smile.

“You’re right, Mamma,” I agree. “You go on, Enzo. I have a quick phone call to make, then I will join you both in the kitchen.”

Unspoken words pass between us as he looks over his shoulder at me.

Yes, I am going to call her.

He nods, then gently pushes his palm against Mamma’s back to guide her out of the room. When the door's softclicksounds behind them, I remove my phone from my pocket.

As I unlock it, I see Sullivan’s text message from earlier. I forgot about it and never responded, so I call him first.

The phone rings twice before he sends me to voicemail, and a banner message illuminates across my screen.

Sully

Can’t talk right now!

Shaking my head, I find Vinnie’s contact instead.

The phone rings and rings, but when I’m certain it’s about to turn over to voicemail, her soft words float through the speaker.

“Hello?” Her voice is quiet, but I can hear her smile.

“Hello, piccola ladra,” I say as I stand, unable to resist smiling myself.

“Sly,” she breathes, and my name on her tongue is like music to my ears.

“How are you, Vincenza?”

“I’m good. Busy. Are you out of the hospital? How are you feeling?” Her questions rapidly fire, and I imagine the look of concern on her face.

“I am healing nicely. The pain is minimal, and sì, I’ve been discharged from the hospital. I’m home now.”

“Oh,” she says softly. “I bet your friends are incredibly relieved to have you back.” There is a fake layer to her tone, and my brow furrows at the way her voice grows higher as she says the words I can tell she doesn’t mean.

“I’m in Manhattan.”

She gasps.

“Meet up with me, piccola ladra. Let me see you again.”

“Sly… We’ve said our goodbyes…”