“Three hours from now. An interruption I really don’t need today.”
“Is everything else still on track?”
“Word is that Alessandro touched down in Paris. Carlo’s man met with Neuvil
le this morning and told him that not only had Alessandro stolen from him, but he’s in town and planning to steal the necklace right from underneath him. Everything is going as planned—at least on the Paris end of things.”
“What does that mean? ‘At least on the Paris end of things’?”
“Matteo caught wind of one of our guys doing a side deal with Alessandro. We’re headed there now to find out what it’s all about.”
“Do you think it has something to do with what Gallo wants to talk about?”
“That’s what we need to find out.” He reaches behind him and pulls a leather wallet from his back pocket, closing the small space between us and flipping it open to display several credit cards and a healthy stack of euros. “These cards have my name on them, but I cleared them at the bank for you. Once we get married, I’ll take you to the bank and get your name on everything.”
“No, I don’t need that. I don’t need the cards.”
“Of course you do. You’re going shopping and you need money.”
“You already gave me a credit card.” I fold my arms in front of me. “I don’t want your money, Kayden.”
“Why the hell not?” he says, sounding baffled. “You can enjoy spending it.”
“I’m not going to spend your money.”
“Ella, sweetheart.” He unfolds my arms and presses the wallet into my hands. “You’re marrying me. It’s our money.”
“It’s our life, not our money.”
“I told you. I have money and I’m going to make a lot more money. We’re going to make a lot more money. Enjoy it.”
“But then you’ll think I’m with you for your money, and that would feel horrible.”
“I thought you were with me for my body,” he teases.
“Well, that’s true.” I grin.
“All the more reason to spend a ridiculous amount of money on lingerie that I can look forward to when I get back Sunday night. The driver I lined up for your shopping trip should be here in the next forty-five minutes. A guy named Oliver. I’m thinking about moving him up in the ranks, so let me know what you think of him.” He kisses me. “I’ll call you after I find out what this is about, and we’ll figure out dinner.” He disappears into the bathroom, leaving me with his wallet, a smile on my face, and apparently an Italian named Oliver.
Forty-five minutes later, I head downstairs to find Marabella and Giada waiting in the main foyer, both in long coats. Marabella wears a blue flowery dress under hers and Giada is in a daring emerald pantsuit.
“Ella!” she greets me, saying something in Italian before rushing to hug me, her long brown hair teasing my cheek. “Do you know what I said to you?” she asks as Marabella and I share a quick smile.
“I do not,” I confirm.
“Then learn Italian. You’re in Italy.”
“Yes, ma’am,” I say. “You’re right and I will.”
“And do you have anything but black in your closet?” she asks. “I swear we bought you some colors.”
“She only wears the black,” Marabella chimes in. “She ignores the colors.”
We’re laughing when we step onto the porch to find a black sedan waiting, only to have Matteo step out of the driver’s door. “Should we go by my apartment now or later?” Giada asks. “I want you to see it, Ella.”
“Let’s do it now,” I say, almost absently, rounding the car to meet Matteo while Giada and Marabella enter the near side.
“Are you driving us?” I ask, noting the tan leather jacket that I’m certain is worn to camouflage a shoulder holster he doesn’t usually wear.