Page 56 of Angelo's Vengeance

“That’d be great. And thank you, really. Hey, you wouldn’t model on the side, would you?”

Her eyes widened. “Uh, no. I’ve …” Her mouth opened and then closed. “I appreciate it, truly. It’s better to keep a low profile in this lifestyle if you know what I mean.” I did know exactly what she meant and hadn’t thought about having photos out there of myself. I guess I needed to.

We ended the call after she forwarded her findings to me. I sat stunned for a few minutes, reflecting on everything Carlotta had done. It had been calculated just as Veronica had said. Growing up with Frankie, I’d known that her mom harbored deep-seated hatred and was mean, but this seemed next level. Even I couldn’t decide if she was being super-villain smart or just crazy. There had to be some kind of endgame here that we were missing. Was she playing chess while we were playing checkers? Why would she want me back in the States? Initially, she wanted me with Angelo, but when he wouldn’t comply, she had me kidnapped … then this thing with Renzetti?

It was making my head spin. I’d talk it over with Angelo when he got home; there must be an explanation. I exhaled deeply, pushed those thoughts aside, and then leanedover to begin sketching again. The lines flowed more easily now, as if I had carved out the blockage in my chest.

This time, the collection wasn’t Florence. It wasn’t Athens or Milan or any place I’d been before. It wasnow.It was New York, where there were typically raw edges, high collars, and silhouettes that whispered power and rebellion, but I wasn’t designing anything like that.

I was halfway through a preliminary design for an adorable christening outfit when Norris poked his head into the studio.

“Miss Theo, dinner in an hour?”

I looked up, grinning. “Only if there’s dessert. Preferably one that comes in the shape of a pie.”

He chuckled, eyes twinkling. “You drive a hard bargain.”

As he disappeared, I looked back at my sketchpad and smiled. I’d fallen down the rabbit hole of baby clothes: onesies, little overalls, snaps, and bows. I’d need to conduct some research on suitable materials for infants.

Carlotta had wanted to push me offbalance, but all she’d done was end up sending me back where I belonged all along.

To the man who’d gone to war to protect me without saying the words aloud.

But I could feel them. I could feelhim.

And I wasn’t running anymore.

CHAPTER 33

THEODOSIA

I waselbow-deep in fabric swatches and doodles when I heard the front door click open downstairs.

I froze, pencil hovering midair, as the wonderland of colors, lines, and textures I’d been lost in for the past few hours flickered away like smoke. For a beat, I sat there blinking at the cotton samples scattered around me, as if I’d been building a nest. Then, Angelo’s heavy, unmistakable tread echoed through the house, and my heart did that annoying fluttery thing it had started doing lately.

I flopped back onto the floor dramatically, tossing an arm over my face. "Pull it together, Anthakos," I muttered. "He's just a man. Avery large, very broody, occasionally stabby man."

Aclangfrom the kitchen indicated where he was headed, and I scrambled up, smoothing down the sailor top and shorts I had changed into earlier—something comfy yet still cute. You know, just in case someone broody and stabby happened to notice.

I padded down the hall, following the warm aromas of baked bread and roasted chicken, feeling like a strange hybrid of a nervous teenager and an old married woman. When I peeked into the kitchen, the sight that greeted me nearly short-circuited my brain.

Angelo Santelli, mafia kingpin extraordinaire, leaned against the counter, talking quietly to Norris, the housekeeper-slash-Alfred-the-Second. He was dressed all in black tactical gear, including a black Henley, black cargo pants, and a holstered weapon at his hip. His dark hair was mussed, his sleeves shoved up to his forearms, and he looked—how was this fair—completely edible. Also, a little bit dangerous, like he could murder someone without breaking a sweat if you said the wrong thing.

Norris caught sight of me first and gave a pleased nod. "Ah, Miss Theo. Just in time."

Angelo’s head snapped up, and when his eyes landed on me, the hard lines of his face softened just a hair. Enough that it felt like he was hauling me right into his orbit with nothing but a look.

"You’re home early,” I said, stupidly, because duh, Captain Obvious.

“Hi,piccola.” His voice was rough, like gravel coated in smoke.

We just stared at each other for a second, the warm kitchen around us blurring at the edges. He looked wired. There was a buzz coming off him, like a live current. I wanted to reach out and smooth the crease between his brows and maybe climb him like a tree.

Instead, I hugged myself and leaned against the doorframe. "Long day?"

He huffed a low laugh. "You could say that."

Bless his soul, Norris broke the moment by bustling around to set the small kitchen table—just two plates, a bottle of wine breathing next to them, candles already flickering as if this werea thing. I flushed.

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