“If I’d known Tommaso was home, I wouldn’t have come over.”

“No,” Bibiana said. “I’m glad you’re here. That way, at least, Tommaso won’t go for a second round right away.” My eyes flitted over the bruises on her hips, inner thighs and upper arms. I lowered my gaze to my lap and blinked away angry tears. Bibiana stepped into the shower and turned the water on. “Val?”

I stood and approached the shower stall. Bibiana’s expression was imploring. “I know I shouldn’t ask you this, but is there anything you can do?”

“Is he doing anything that goes against Dante or the Outfit? Anything at all?”

Bibi shook her head as the water plastered her dark hair against her forehead. “He’s loyal to the Cavallaros.”

That’s what I’d suspected. “Dante won’t act unless he’s a traitor, but maybe we can set him up.”

Bibiana’s eyes became huge. “You would trick Dante if we did that. You can’t go against him, Val. I can’t ask that of you.” She put on a brave smile. “I’m being overdramatic. Women have been going through this for centuries and they all survived.”

Maybe, but that didn’t mean Bibiana should suffer through it.

She stepped out of the shower and I handed her a towel. “Let’s talk about something else. How are things going with Dante and you? Have you?”

I nodded, a blush heating my cheeks. “Twice.”

“And? Was it bad?”

“No, actually it was…” I trailed off, realizing what I was doing. I couldn’t talk about how much I’d enjoyed being with Dante when Bibi had just been mounted by her pig of a husband. “…okay,” I finished halfheartedly.

Bibi gave me a look. “I know you Val. I can tell that you’re lying. You don’t have to hold back because of me. I know that there are women who enjoy sex.”

“It was good,” I said.

Bibi took my hand and squeezed. “That’s good. You deserve some fun after the years with Antonio.”

I wanted to throw my arms around her and hold her, wanted to have Tommaso killed for her, but instead I merely squeezed back. “One day Tommaso will be gone and then it’s your turn.”

She nodded, but the hopelessness in her eyes gutted me. “He’s 52. With my luck, he’ll live another thirty years. I’ll be old and bitter then.”

***

Twenty minutes later, I was back in the car with Enzo heading home.

As we pulled up in front of the gate to the premises, my eyes were drawn to a man standing on the other side of the street and I jerked in surprise. It was Frank.

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

Frank? I’d recognize his red hair and lanky stature anywhere. Enzo shot me a look but I quickly tore my eyes away from Antonio’s former lover before Enzo followed my gaze. What was Frank doing here? He should know better than to creep around the house of a mob member, especially the Boss of the Outfit. But then, Frank probably didn’t know that’s what Dante was unless Antonio had revealed more to his lover than I was aware of.

I tried to keep a passive face as we pulled up the driveway, but I wasn’t sure I was succeeding. Enzo definitely had picked up that something was wrong and kept looking my way. “Thanks for picking me up,” I said and slipped out of the car the moment we came to a stop in the garage. Once inside the house, I strode upstairs into one of the guest bedrooms facing the street but when I peered out of the window, Frank was already gone.

I had to figure out a way to contact him to find out what he wanted. But how?

I wasn’t supposed to leave the house unguarded anymore. And I didn’t even know where Frank lived, but I had a feeling he’d show up again soon. There must be something he needed to talk to me about. What if he wanted to blackmail me?

Great, now Dante’s manipulation was making me paranoid. Next time Frank was around I’d simply have to find a way to sneak out of the house to talk to him.

A knock made me jump. The door was ajar and Gaby poked her head in. “Dinner’s ready,” she said shyly. “Mr. Cavallaro is waiting for you.”

“Couldn’t he have told me that himself?”

Gaby flushed. “I’m sorry. He sent me to get you.”

I touched her shoulder as I walked past her. “Don’t worry. I’m not blaming you.”

She followed a few steps behind me as we headed downstairs. Before I entered the living room, I turned to her. “You don’t have to trail behind me. We can walk side by side, Gaby.”

She nodded before she disappeared through the door leading into the staff area. With a sigh, I stepped into the living room. Dante was sitting in his usual spot at the end of the table. I crossed the living area and headed for him. My plate was placed at the other end of the table as it had been the other evenings. Somehow this made me unreasonably angry today. I stopped next to my chair, but didn’t sit down. “Why am I supposed to sit so far away from you?”

Dante lifted an eyebrow. “Are you angry?”

“Of course I’m angry. I don’t want to go through meals as if we’re strangers. You never try to keep that much distance between us when you fuck me.” The word made my skin crawl with discomfort but I stood my ground.

Dante’s eyes narrowed a fraction, always so cool and calculating. “I wasn’t the one who insisted we have sex. If I recall, you were quite adamant about it.”

I couldn’t believe he acted as if he didn’t enjoy it. Maybe I wasn’t experienced but I knew that he’d enjoyed himself tremendously. I grabbed my plate and cutlery and carried them over to the place beside Dante where I sat them down with a bit too much force, making them clank loudly. I lowered myself into the chair, then stared at Dante defiantly.

“Please tell Zita to set the table like this from now on.”

“If that’s what you want,” he said indifferently.

Zita walked in and I didn’t get the chance to say something else. Her eyes flitted from Dante to me and a smile crossed her face. I really wanted to scream. She set down our plates. Homemade sweet potato gnocchi, sage butter and veal cutlets. She took her sweet time before she left again.

I speared a gnocchi and slid it into my mouth, then almost sighed because it was so delicious, but I didn’t want Dante to think I’d already gotten over my anger toward him.

Dante cut his veal without hurry. My eyes took in his strong hands, remembering how they felt on my skin, and hating myself for wanting to feel them again, despite his frustrating behavior.

“How was the visit with your parents?” Dante asked eventually. He sounded so blasé, I couldn’t even count the question as an attempt at making up for his rudeness.

“Didn’t my father give you a report?”

Dante slid a piece of veal into his mouth before he leveled his gaze on me. “We talk about business in our meetings,” he said, then a bit sharper. “I don’t know why you’re acting like a petulant child. If I wanted a wife who did that, then I would have chosen Gianna.”

I dropped my fork with a clang. “Then maybe you should ask her. I’ll marry Matteo. At least I hear he isn’t a cold fish.”