“I heard about what happened after the wedding.”
“You did?” I ask, raising my eyebrows in mock disbelief.
“I was surprised.”
“Interesting.” I lean back in my chair, the room silent except for the two of us and a few pots and pans clanging in the kitchen.
“How is that interesting?” He dips a piece of bread into the olive oil and takes a bite.
I shrug. “I simply find it interesting that your daughter and brand-new son-in-law were attacked in broad daylight yet you neither came nor called to see how your daughter fared. Wouldn’t you find that interesting?”
He stops chewing, his eyes narrowing. “I knew she was all right. I’m not completely out of the loop. You both made it back to your place across the river.”
I take my butter knife and carefully slice a piece of bread from the loaf. “I hope you understand that I take this attempt on our lives very seriously and intend to find the perpetrator and kill him in short order.” I tap my bread into the olive oil, then chew it, my eyes on Constantine.
The old man clears his throat, his gaze darting to Gilly. “That’s why I wanted this meeting. I need to know what you’re doing to protect my daughter.”
“Which one?” I ask.
He sips his wine. “Bianca is safe at home, which is where she’ll stay until the Frangiones decide to marry their eldest to her. She’s my pride and joy.”
I feel the insult, but not the sting. Whatever he may say, I know my bride is worth far more than his opinion of her. He’s just too foolish to realize it. He’s also too foolish to realize he gave me a piece of information that not even Angelica knew: He intends to give Bianca to the Frangiones. They’re a vicious pack of thieves, cutthroats, and human traffickers, ones I’d never lower myself to associate with. So why would old man Larone seek an alliance with them?
The waiter brings our pasta dishes, the Parmesan melting into the semolina noodles beautifully. It’s a shame to let it go to waste.
I push my chair back and stand.
Constantine’s second shifts on his feet, his hand edging toward his gun. I’m not worried about him. Gilly will drop him if he dares draw a weapon.
“I don’t know what game you’re playing, Constantine, but I will tell you this: Angelica is mine, and she will be the queen of my empire long after you’re nothing but dust.”
He sputters, wine spraying from his lips.
“Your insult to my wife is one I can’t abide. However”—I button my suit coat—“I will grant you mercy this one time, only because I want my angel to be happy.” I lean down and brace my hands on the table. “But if you come for us again, I will bury you, old man.”
“How dare you!” He stands, knocking over his wine. “You’re no one! A nobody who begged for my scraps, and I gave them to you. Now here you–”
I lunge across the table and grab the front of his shirt, then yank him toward me, spilling the food and sending plates crashing to the floor. “You willneverspeak of my wife that way again.” I spit in his face and shove him backwards.
He goes flailing and lands hard on his ass.
“Gilly, we’re done here.” I stride past Constantine and out of the restaurant as he howls with rage.
He’s lucky I didn’t put my butter knife through his eye. There’s only one thing stopping me–Angelica. I won’t disappoint her or hurt her, even though my vengeful nature demands justice.Mykind of justice.
But for her, I walk away. I have to. Because she means more than any old man’s insults ever will.
* * *
“—didn’t let me come to the wedding. I was so crushed.” A woman’s voice floats through the hallway.
Gilly raises a brow at me.
I shrug.
“I know! I was already so sad to be married off to a stranger, and then when I realized you weren’t there like we’d planned, I had a come-apart, and then I fell apartagainwhen I got married.”
I walk to the library, the door open as Angelica and Carina speak to a woman via Skype. It must be Bianca. Clever Carina, striking while she knew Constantine would be busy with me.