Page 31 of Mafia Darling

The side of his mouth hitched, making him appear even more gorgeous. “Does this mean you are no longer mad at me, dolcezza?”

I sighed and decided not to answer. Instead I opened my purse, dug around, and held out Agent Rinaldo’s card. “While I was in the washroom, I had a visit from the Guardia di Finanza.”

CHAPTER TEN

Fausto

I stared at the card, not terribly surprised. It was a smart play by the Guardia, approaching Francesca. They had left my mistresses alone in the past, probably because none of them had lived with me and I never discussed business in front of them. Francesca was different. In every regard. “I see.”

She dropped the card in my lap when I didn’t take it. “I told her to fuck off.”

Marco’s eyes met mine in the rear view mirror. I knew what he was thinking. He didn’t trust her, and he was wondering if this was a tactic, telling me about the Guardia to gain my confidence.

The familiar itch skittered across the nape of my neck, the one that whispered never to let anyone in. Never to give anyone power over me, over the business, especially a woman. These were words my father had repeated many, many times.

It wasn’t easy, but I ignored them. I had been wrong to doubt Francesca’s loyalty before. There would be indisputable proof the next time I accused her of anything.

“Who did they send?” Marco asked from the driver’s seat.

I picked up the card. “Rinaldo.”

Marco snorted. “They must not be trying too hard.”

“What does that mean?” Francesca asked, her gaze bouncing back and forth between Marco and me.

“We’ve never heard of her,” I said. “Probably trying to make a name for herself.”

“Do you know all of the Guardia agents by name?”

“Yes,” Marco and I both said at the same time.

It was our job. Our livelihood. We had to know the enemy inside and out. I even had several GDF officials on my payroll. I would need to look into this Agent Rinaldo.

“Well, you didn’t know this one,” Francesca said, resting her head against the seat back and closing her eyes. “So, you’re welcome.”

I studied her face, the dark circles under her eyes. The sunken cheeks. She was exhausted. How had she slept last night in my bed? Despite my craving to be near her, I’d left her alone to rest and slept in a guest bedroom instead. Looking at her now, it was clear she needed more sleep. Hadn’t her reports from the beach mentioned naps?

I pulled out my phone and checked my email. I answered when required, made some phone calls, and tried to catch up on the work I’d neglected for the last month. Toni was right, I had been distracted. Now I had Francesca back and things would slowly go back to normal.

The car turned a corner and Francesca’s head dropped onto my shoulder. Asleep, she shifted to get more comfortable, and I remained as still as possible to avoid waking her. My poor dolcezza.

We pulled into the castello’s drive and Marco turned the car off. He peeked over his shoulder. “I hope you know what you’re doing. Because we’re all fucked if you’re wrong.”

“I’m not wrong.” I knew it in my bones. Rinaldo had presented Francesca with an opportunity and my woman had turned it down. If Francesca wanted to escape me, she would have accepted the Guardia’s deal, turned me in, and disappeared.

Which meant she wanted to stay.

Hope expanded in my chest as I unbuckled her seat belt, then carefully maneuvered her onto my lap. Benito opened the door for me and I lifted Francesca out of the car. “You had better be in my office in five minutes,” I quietly told my guard. “Where you will explain to me how a GDF agent was allowed to accost my woman in the bathroom.”

Benito paled but gave me a nod. I went up the steps and into my home, the smell of basil and garlic in the air like the sweetest perfume. Zia must have started cooking dinner. I took Francesca up the staircase and into our wing.

She didn’t rouse at all as I placed her on the mattress, not even when I removed her shoes. Then I found the soft blanket at the end of the bed. “Sleep, amore mio,” I whispered before pressing a light kiss to the top of her head.

“This doesn’t mean anything,” she mumbled, her hands tucking under her cheek. “Just because I didn’t help the GDF doesn’t mean we are back together.”

I didn’t bother responding. We both knew she was wrong. This meant everything.

I went down the stairs and into my office, where Marco and Benito were waiting. “Ma che cazzo?” I snapped, pointing at Benito. “Explain yourself.”

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