My teasing smile disappears, but Cade shifts me onto his lap before I can spiral.
“It’s nothing to do with you, baby,” His lips brush the shell of my ear, the rough scrape of his stubble raising goosebumps on my skin. “You were almost a victim, too.”
I swallow hard as his words remind me of the hell I narrowly escaped.
My throat tightens with emotion. “Did I ever say thank you?”
Cade’s lips skim the curve of my neck, and then he nips me softly, his teeth teasing as though coaxing me out of the dark place I’m slipping into. “It’s not too late to start.”
“Well . . .” I tilt my head and then slant my mouth over his. “Consider this a start.”
The diner falls away as I lose myself in his taste, in the slow and deliberate way his lips claim mine. The kiss is deep and unhurried—like he has all the time in the world to unravel me. And maybe he does.
A loudly cleared throat shatters the moment.
First, I notice two steaming mugs of coffee on the vinyl table. And through the rising steam, a black suit. My gaze trails upward, landing on a man who looks like he stepped straight out of a Milan runway.
Tall. Impeccably dressed in a tailored suit, the kind of craftsmanship that whispers obscene amounts of money. His white shirt is open at the collar, revealing a tanned throat and just a hint of muscle beneath.
Hisface could’ve been carved by angels—sharp planes, perfect angles, jawline for days—but the cold blue of his eyes drains any warmth from the image. They’re sharp, calculating, and unforgiving. The kind of eyes that could flay you alive without so much as a blink.
Nico Vitelli.
I gasp, scrambling off Cade’s lap so fast I almost knock the coffee over.
The woman beside him is something else entirely. Gorgeous doesn’t begin to cover it. Her amber eyes rove over Cade and me with a smug interest. However, the single finger she has hooked through Nico’s belt loop catches my attention. It’s such a small gesture, but it screams ownership louder than any grand display could.
It’s like watching a lion and a gazelle together, except this gazelle seems perfectly at home running the show.
Sophie raises a suggestive brow at Cade. “I have no fucking words, brother.”
Cade’s hand finds my thigh—a reassuring squeeze—before he stands, pulling me up with him. He drags Sophie into a one-armed hug. “Well, that’s a first, Sparrow. You look . . . well.”
I’m starting to think I’ll need a legal pad to keep track of all these nicknames.
Sophie steps back, amber eyes sparkling. “And you must be—”
“Luna,” Cade cuts her short. “This is Sophie, my sister.”
Sophie pulls me into a hug, her enthusiasm like a warm wave. “Is it creepy to say I love you at this point?” she whispers against my ear.
I bite back a smile. “Yeah, just a little bit.”
“Got it. I’ll wait a few more minutes.”
Weboth laugh despite the human thundercloud beside her who hasn’t spoken a word. Or stopped glowering at me.
That thundercloud clears his throat again, eyes narrowing as they flick between Cade and me. “Quinn,” he says, his voice low and dangerous. “Care to explain what the fuck is going on here?”
The temperature in the diner plummets. This isn’t just any man—this is Nico Vitelli. The man who holds my family’s fate in his hands.
But I know, in my bones, Cade would never let him hurt my family.
Cade drawls in a carefully neutral voice but undercut with a steel edge. “This is Alfred Romano’s daughter, and she’s got a hell of a deal for you. You’d be wise to keep your ears—and your mind—open.”
“Excuse me?” Nico takes a menacing step toward Cade, but Sophie steps smoothly between the men, her smile as sunny as ever. It’s like watching a kitten try to break up a fight between two pit bulls.
“Now, now, boys. Let’s all sit down and talk like civilized people, shall we?” She turns to me, eyes dancing. “I, for one, want to hear Luna out. I mean, she’s accomplished what no human, living or dead, ever could—wrap my brother around her pinkie.”