“Did you love Benita?” she whispers.
“I don’t know,” I answer honestly.
“Did you tackle me during the shoot-out because of how she died?”
“How did …?” I pause. “Fucking Benny.”
I should’ve deprived him of a childhood. Maybe he’d have learned how to keep his mouth shut.
She strokes my arm. “I’m sorry you had to go through that.”
“There are few times I’ve ever felt weak, like I didn’t have control over something.” A pain forms in the back of my throat, and I attempt to swallow it down. “The first time I felt powerless was when my father was murdered. The second was watching my wife die in my arms.” I reach around her to smooth my hand over her hair. “You asked me if I’d be a good husband. Probably not.”
Her shoulders tighten.
“I have flaws, Natalia. A lot of them. I learned a lesson when I chose to put the rules over my wife. I swear to you, I won’t be that husband again.”
“I know you’ll always keep me safe, Cristian.”
I bow my head to kiss the top of hers.
She reaches across the bed, pulls an Oreo from the container, and holds it out for me.
I shake my head.
“Have you ever had an Oreo, Cristian?”
I glare at her.
“Seriously.” She groans, throwing her head back. “Were you deprived of tears and Oreos growing up? Now, I understand why you’re so damn cranky all the time.”
“I doubt the lack of Oreos affected my childhood much.”
“It definitely did.” She separates the two cookies. “First, you have to lick the frosting off.”
“Just give me the damn cookie.” I snatch it from her and shove it into my mouth.
Natalia is teaching me there’s more to life than being the head of the Marchetti family.
I am a father, a son, and soon, a husband.
And an Oreo fan, goddammit.
CHAPTER 29
NATALIA
I grab my phone when it rings.
Bonnie’s name flashes across the screen.
“Natalia, is there any way you can come into the gallery?” she asks when I answer, her tone frantic. “My granddaughter is ill, and I need to pick her up from school. No one else can cover for me.”
“Of course,” I reply. “I’ll call Cristian for a ride and be there as soon as possible.”
The line goes silent for a moment before she says, “See you soon.” Her three words are rushed out as one.
Cristian answers my call in two rings. “Kind of busy right now, sweet Natalia.”
“Bonnie’s granddaughter is sick, and she asked me to cover the gallery for her,” I tell him. “Can you take me?”
“I’m stuck in an important meeting.”
“Totally fine. I’ll just drive.”
“What did I tell you?”
Shit. Fuck. Dammit.
“Um … I don’t remember.” I hold in a breath.
“Rocky or I take you, Natalia. You’re not driving.”
“I think Rocky is busy.”
Before Cristian left, he told me Rocky was staying behind in case I needed anything. So, I’m sure the sociopath is wandering around here, plotting a murder—possibly mine. From what I’ve learned, the man eats, sleeps, and breathes homicide.
“I’ll call him.”
“What about Benny?” I ask.
“He’s out.”
“Francis?”
“Took the day off for his wife’s retirement party.”
I groan.
“You don’t have to hang out with him, sweetheart. I’ll tell him to sit in the car until you’re finished. Have a good day at work.”
“Ugh, fine.”
We end the call.
I collapse onto the couch, drop my phone, take a long sip of my lemonade, and slump my shoulders in dread. I’ve never been alone with Rocky before, but he makes my blood run cold.
When they almost handed me over to the Lombardis, Rocky made his hatred for me clear, hissing in my ear all the ways he hoped Vinny would carve my body up, while Cristian poked Vinny the bear.
I don’t get much time to put on my avoid Rocky thinking cap because he walks into the living room and says, “Cristian said you need a ride to the gallery?”
Dammit, Cristian.
I gulp. “Yes.”
He attempts to smile, but the man has so much anger that it looks more serial killer–like than friendly.
He jerks his head toward the door. “Come on.”
I flinch before standing, my movements slow and cautious, to the point where I probably look overdramatic. If Rocky notices, he doesn’t comment on it.
When we get to the car, I take the back seat.
“I think we got off on the wrong foot,” Rocky says, peering at me through the rearview mirror and bobbing his bald head to the music.
There are scars on that head, and I always want to question him about them.
One doesn’t easily get a scarred head.
There have to be stories.
“It’s okay,” I croak. “I’m not one to hold grudges.”
“It isn’t. I was upset because Carmela and Cristian had a relationship.”
I scrunch up my nose at him saying their names in the same sentence.
“But Cristian made no commitment to Carmela. I promised Cristian that Carmela and I would behave around you, and I give you my word as well.”
“Thank you, Rocky.”
I run my hands up and down my arms before deciding to send a quick text to Benny, Cristian, and Gigi, letting them know I’m on my way to work. The more people who know where I am, the better.
“Shoot.” I frantically pat my pockets and frown. “I forgot my phone.”
“We’re about to be at the gallery,” Rocky says. “I can drop you off, grab it, and then bring it back to you.”
After Vinny attacked me in my apartment and I realized I was phoneless, I swore that’d never happen again. I haven’t forgotten to take it with me anywhere. But it’s either have Rocky turn around, spend more time with him, and make Bonnie wait longer, or agree to his plan.
His plan means less Rocky time, so sold.
Rocky kills the engine when we park in front of the gallery. “I’ll walk you in and then grab your phone.”
I wave a hand in the air. “You don’t have to walk me in.”
“Cristian’s orders.”
I nod and slide out of the SUV.
He jumps out of the car, surprisingly following me, and the gallery is empty when we walk in.
The classical music that typically flows through the speakers is off.
“Bonnie!” I call out, making my way toward the back room. “Are you here?”
“Natalia.”
I sprint to the back at the sound of Bonnie yelling my name.
“Natalia, I am so sorry,” Bonnie says in hysterics as I turn the corner. “They said if I didn’t call you, they’d hurt my grandchildren. I didn’t know what to do.”
Strong hands wrap around my waist, pulling me back, and I scream when something is shoved against my face.
Then, everything goes black.