“How do you balance it?”
“Balance what?” He flicked the tab on his can, looking out at the cars passing.
“Being a husband and a firefighter.”
“Well, your mom always comes first. No question. The community is important, but my work would mean nothing if I didn’t have your mom to come home to.”
I looked down at my hands as I rolled the can between them. “I’m giving my shares of the company to Ashley.” I blinked back tears. “She deserves them, and I can’t put all we worked for in danger.”
“I can’t say I’m surprised.”
“Dad—”
“I’m not judging, but I've heard some things since you’ve been with Luca. You’re signing up for a hard life.” His eyebrows bunched as he took a drink. “You need to be sure it’s what you really want. Once you’re in, you’re in.” He turned his serious stare on me.
“He’s what I want. The rest, I can handle.”
Dad chugged the rest of his soda, crushing the can. “Then we better get back inside and work on your shot.”
And just like that, my dad gave his blessing to me becoming the wife of a mafia boss.
* * *
“I’m so tired!” I threw myself back into the seat.
“I told you to reschedule.”
I shut my eyes. The windshield wipers beat back and forth, lulling me to sleep. “Couldn’t. Dad’s on for the next few days, and we have so much wedding stuff to do. I don’t think Mom would let us run off to the gun range.” I struggled to find a comfortable position, giving up when it became evident the tiny car wouldn’t accommodate a quick nap. “No, it had to be today, but now I just want to curl up in bed and—”
“What the hell?” Luca mumbled, braking two houses down from ours.
The abrupt stop sent my head into the window. With wide eyes, I looked at Luca and yelled, “Jesus—”
“You stay here. I’ll find out what’s going on.” He kept his eyes on the scene in front of us as he turned the car off.
“Okay?” I rubbed the sore spot on my head.
Luca got out of the car and approached a cop standing on the edge of the tape. It was too dark and the rain too constant to see their faces, the flashing lights not giving me enough time to catch any expressions. Luca shook his head and moved deeper into the crowd of cops.
Tapping my nails on the dashboard, I leaned forward, hoping to catch a glimpse of him among the uniformed men and women, but I couldn’t see a damn thing. There was no use guessing what was going on. Taking my phone out, I tried to distract myself until Luca returned. I absentmindedly scrolled through pictures of my friends out and about.
A loud knock on the glass made me jump, and I whipped my head toward the window, where an asshole cop smirked down at me.
Detective Bennington.
I glared, waiting for him to say something. He made the universal roll your window down gesture, which was a bit dated in this day and age because I hadn’t even seen a crank handle in nearly a decade.
I shook my head. “How can I help you?”
He kept winding, so I waved my hands around. “Cars not running.”
“Crack the door.”
Rolling my eyes, I opened the door a sliver. “Yes?”
“Sasha Mitchell?”
This motherfucker.