As instructed, Marco, Tio, and Lucca are in the study waiting for me.
“Any news from Parisi?” I loosen my tie and take a seat behind the mahogany desk, flipping open the laptop Lucca has secured for me.
“He demanded a meeting in the morning. I told him you were on your honeymoon and not to be disturbed.”
“Good.”
“Rossi made contact as well.”
I look up from my laptop, my expression blank. Why the hell would Lorenzo’s bitch boy dare contact me?
“The bastard’s jittery as fuck. Claims you took his woman and has promised revenge.”
I huff out a humorous laugh. “Anything else?” I ask, brushing off the cockroach’s threat.
Tio runs through the list of contacts and gives an update on their status. Having connections with the head of polizia isn’t an ace in the hole. The entire force can be bought. Many have been on Parisi’s payroll for decades. I’m not convinced the Capo della, George Verde, has his officers in his pocket, and plan my next move as if the capo is a mole. It’s how I got this far. Never trusting anyone, not even most of my men. I continue to monitor them and even set them up to see if they’ll attempt to betray me. Not even once have they tried, or they wouldn’t be here today. I trust them as much as I’m capable of trusting anyone.
It scares me how much I must rely on Gia for this to play out. Tomorrow, I’ll tell her why I really married her.
***
“Thank you again.” Giacrushes me in another hug the moment she steps into the study the following morning. “Seeing my mother again has given me hope. I feel normal for the first time in, I don’t know...” She tosses up her hands. “Ever?”
Gia crosses the study to the doors that lead to the veranda. She stretches out her arms and breathes in the early morning air. She spins around, a smile filling her face. She’s stunning. Her cheeks have more color on them. With her hair pulled back in its usual messy bun and her cheerful disposition, she’s never been more stunning.
“When I was a teen, I felt trapped in our stone castle of hate and evil. And on the run with mama, I was never truly free and happy. The first few years were spent trying to find medical care that wouldn’t strip us from all the money Sonny gave me. It’s been a million years since I could relax with mama. And she’s happy. She’s truly happy. Thank you, Rocco.”
I don’t like how I feel when she uses my name. Part of me misses my given name. The other part wants nothing to do with revisiting the past and wants to live in my new future.
The sunlight streams bright through the doors, making her appear like an angel. An angel wearing the same clothes we traveled in. I scowl. “I thought you packed a suitcase.”
Gia glances down at her shirt and shrugs. “I’m not wearing uncomfortable clothes to hang around the house. Mama and I are going for a walk after breakfast. She’s excited to show me around.”
“Your wardrobe shouldn’t be uncomfortable. I spent a fortune on it.”
“I don’t mean to sound ungrateful.” She steps back into the room and rolls her eyes. “But I’m not the kind of girl who thinks lounging around in jeans and heels or a cocktail dress is comfortable.”
“Make a list of clothing you’d like. Marco can go get your order for you.”
“I don’t want to write an order. I want to walk through a store without looking over my shoulder, not concerned about having enough money to pay our rent, or worried about my mother having a relapse.”
Stubborn. I’m tired of hearing her complain about the wardrobe most women would orgasm over. I reach into my pocket and take out a wad of bills. “You and your mother can go shopping together. How much will you need for a week’s worth of clothes?” I thumb through the bills. “Two? Three thousand?” I hand her the stack.
“Are you serious?”
I glance at the bills. “Four?” I have more in the safe.
“First, who walks around with thousands of dollars in cash in their pocket? Second, that’s enough to buy us all a four-season wardrobe. And third, I don’t have a car.”
I fold the thick stack in half and stick it in my coat pocket. “First, I don’t need to risk a card being tracked back to this area. Second, it’s barely enough to buy a pair of shoes. Third, Marco will drive you.”
Her cheek lifts as if she’s contemplating. “That’s smart. The cash thing. Are you sure Marco won’t mind bringing us?”
I remain expressionless, much like I do when my men speak with me. “Marco does what I tell him to do.”
“He’s not a dog. Treat him better or he’ll find a new owner.” Gia pats my shoulder and brushes past me.
How the hell does she manage to get control of nearly every conversation? I take out my phone and text my men the change in plans for the day. A few minutes later, I go in search of Gia and am greeted by Evangeline in the kitchen.