“It’s beautiful.” She paused, soaking in the mansion I called home. “Do you live here alone?”
I took a swig from the bottled water I’d yet to finish on the jet. “Mmn… the wife and kids should be here any minute.”
She rolled her eyes, but the corner of her mouth twitched. We’d been like this a lot lately, the teasing, the easy laughter. Since confiding in her about my past, a new awareness charged the air between us. A smile played on my lips as I discarded the now empty bottle on the table and dug my hands into my pockets. “Yes, Lucio has his own villa.”
“And Carina?” She glanced back at me, interrupting her exploration of the large abstract painting in the foyer.
I enjoyed my mother’s absence the most. “She has a place in the city, but she’s always traveling—here, Sicily, America.”
Her eyes sparked, and she pointed in my direction. “America? You’ve been there? You have an accent.”
“We lived there for a time, but California was mostly boarding school. No beaches and sunshine for me and my brother.”
She leaned forward to inspect the porcelain vase on the entry table. “What brought you back?”
“The family business.” I stood beside her, not missing the creeping smile as she ran her hand over the smooth glass. Asmile not present back in Sicily. I hoped to see more of it. “My great grandfather founded the company on this very soil.”
“Is Carina involved in the family business? I’ve spotted her in the library, sitting around a stack of paperwork but never asked.”
“No. Carina wants nothing to do with my father’s company. She plays the stock market. Spends most of her days in her office, staring at screens. Says it’s the only clean game in the world.”
A short, humorless laugh escaped my throat because it hit me then. Her timing was always a little too perfect. She bought up shares in a small shipping company a week before it received a massive, unexpected contract. She sold off her stake in a construction firm the day before its CEO was arrested. This was not genius; it was information. The kind of information my uncle would get his hands on before anyone else.Ah, Carina, just how deeply involved are you with the Calafiores?
Gemma gestured around the room, a soft light sparkling in her eyes. “This foyer could swallow my whole apartment back in Brighton.”
Before now, she’d never mentioned her hometown. “Brighton, that’s the name of the beach you lived nearby,si?”
She gave an animated nod, her grin flashing straight teeth. “Brighton Le-Sands is sort of like the beaches in Sicily, calmer waves, beachfront restaurants. Mum and I would cycle down in the afternoons and just sit and chat over some hot chips… which you probably call fries.” She waved her hand when she realized I understood what she meant. “Brighton’s… home, you know? Family friendly… welcoming. Everyone knows everyone and looks out for one another.”
Her smile faded, gaze distant. I plucked my phone from my pocket and handed her the device. “I’m going to take a shower. Why don’t you call your mother?”
Her eyes rounded, and she took a step back. “But… Carina?”
“My lips are sealed if yours are.” Of course, she’d be afraid of this getting back to my mother. Carina could scream all she wanted. Gemma had every right to call.
She squeezed my arm; her smile resurfacing. “Thank you, Enzo.”
“Come on, let me show you around before you call her, then.” We strolled through the wide foyer and into the dining hall. “We’ll have breakfast in here.” I led her to the wet bar, shelves filled with wine and cocktail glasses, and then into the kitchen. “Hungry? I can have the cook whip something up.”
She waved a hand, dismissing my offer. “No need. I’m full from the meal on the plane.”
We passed the elevator and entered the large living area with a fireplace. Her hand trailed over the polished rail as we climbed the stairs to the master bedroom. “Not many guards here, unlike in Sicily.”
“It’s safer here.” Hence the reason I preferred this place over Sicily, no enemies to worry about.
“Will it ever end? This war?” She paused on the landing, her eyes trained on me, hopeful. Carina ruined the one chance to reconcile with the De Lucas when she eloped. “No.”
Her lower lip pouted, revealing unspoken thoughts. I wanted to tell her my life could be different; I didn’t have to endure being surrounded by guards, guns, and the occasional run-in with those out for my blood. But then I’d be lying. Carina’s words finally rang true; there was no escaping the mafia blood running through my veins.
Inside the long bedroom corridor, we stopped next to the super king bed. She let out a low whistle. “Nice room.”
I beckoned her to the arched doorway beside the bed. Frowning, she poked her head into the extended room, then back to the main. “Two beds?”
“I had my own private gym beyond this wall, but the staff converted it into another bedroom, so I’d be close to you.”
“All this… because of my dreams?” The wind howled outside, branches scratching against the window. “For what it’s worth, I do feel better when you’re close by. So, thank you.”
Same. The floor was hell on my back, but there was something about her sleeping nearby that eased my discomfort. “I’ll shower in the guest suite and give you a chance to chat with your mother.”
