He doesn’t finish the sentence, but I do in my head. Like you did as a teenager.I’m sick of being the bad guy when it comes to that fucker. I start to tell him some of what happened. None of what Lucia shared privately with me last night, but some of what I saw the day he attacked her.
Gio’s face grows increasingly shocked, and by the time I’m finished, his mouth has dropped open.
“Fuck.” His brows draw down. “Bruno said at the time that you’d hit him unprovoked. I didn’t believe him, of course. You’re the chill brother. But I never assumed what he’d done involved Lucia. Bruno’s a fucking sleazy asshole. I’m guessing she doesn’t want to pursue any charges now?”
I shake my head. “She only really opened up to me last night, so I doubt it.”
His gaze narrows in concentration. “Still, he needs to pay for what he did. I’m going to ask our investigators to check out what he’s getting up to in his private life. You can bet if he attacked Lucia, there are others. And if that’s the case, then we can make sure it doesn’t happen again. I don’t want a fucker like that working for us, but we’ll need facts to fire him from the board.”
“Thanks, G.” A waiter swings by to refill our coffee, and when he moves to the next table, I add, “Luce and I are flying to Capri in a couple of hours for a mini honeymoon.”
“Really? A honeymoon?” His gaze narrows like he’s trying to solve a complex problem.
I shift uncomfortably in my seat. “Why do you look so surprised? It’s what newlyweds do.”
He chuckles. “I’m not sure it’s the case when the newlyweds are in a fake marriage.”
“Well, it’s the case for Lucia and me. Besides, we’ve always taken breaks in Capri, and you’ve never said anything about those being unusual.” My argument is weak, and his raised eyebrows tell me he’s not convinced.
“But you said this trip was a mini honeymoon.”
I shrug my shoulders, then pick up my cup so I don’t have to look at him. “Okay, then let’s just say it’s a trip to Capri.”
“Sure. It just seems to me that yourfakemarriage is turning into something more.”
Fuck, he’s right. This trip will be different. My friend has become my wife, and for the first time since our wedding night, we slept in the same bed last night. And if I had my way, that’s how every night would be from now on.
“But let’s forget about me,” I suggest, throwing his earlier words back at him and bringing a full smile to his face for the first time in months. “When are you planning on returning to New York?”
“Tonight. I have a meeting with the American auditors tomorrow afternoon. They think they might have some new information.”
“Good. It’s about time we made some progress. All we seem to discover every week is more evidence of fraud but nothing useful that could help us stop it.”
“It’s frustrating as hell. Whoever is behind this has covered their tracks really well.” He drains his cup. “If this new information doesn’t move us forward, I’m going to look at bringing on a new firm of investigators.”
“Agreed. We’re losing more money and stock from the company every month, and I want to find the fuckers who are behind it.”
We continue to discuss business over another coffee and some fresh bread and cheese. Neither of us being big fans of the sweet pastries the Italians like to eat, if they eat breakfast at all.
But when exactly one hour has passed, I rush our conversation to an end, eager to be on my way.
I have a flight to catch with my wife.
Chapter sixteen
Antonio
Capri
“Let’s hike to our cove,” Lucia says, jumping up from the stool she’d only just perched on. “We couldn’t do it last time, and I really want to go today.”
Being in Capri has completely transformed Luce. The haunted look shadowing her beautiful eyes last night has been replaced by a sparkle in my favorite shade of green, and a smile hasn’t left her glossy lips. The enthusiasm is contagious.
“And a picnic?” I ask, the weight of worry over business lifting off my shoulders too.
“Of course.” She joins me on the kitchen side of the island to start pulling together an impromptu meal. We had a snack on the plane, but the idea of a picnic is reminiscent of our youth, and anything that takes us back to the happier, carefree times before Bruno is a good idea. Together, we place cheese, bread, and fruit into a cooler bag, along with a bottle of my family’s red wine, before refilling our water bottles.
“Come on, wife,” I joke, chuckling and placing my hands on her hips to hold her still for a second so I can kiss her on theforehead. I find myself wanting to hold her every time she’s within arm’s reach. It’s why I’ve been avoiding us being alone since the wedding night.
