Page 71 of Unrelenting
He gulps down the rest of his wine and refills the glass. “Does your family suck?”
“No, mine are great. My dad’s an engineer and my mom’s a graphic designer. They live in Berlin.”
“Yes, you mentioned visiting them there.”
I smile, pleased Lorenzo remembered that. “I have two sisters. Allegra lives in Sicily with her husband. She’s an architect, and Fabiano does something in town planning. Sofia teaches high school math in Bologna.”
“Such a normal family,” Lorenzo says.
“Yes, we’re pretty boring.”
He shakes his head. “Normal isn’t boring.” He sets down his wineglass. “Tell me about you and Adriano Rossini. How did you end up going out a man like him?”
The question surprises me. I don’t remember telling Lorenzo about my relationship with Adriano but it isn’t exactly a secret. A lot of people know we were together.
As much as I hate talking about Adriano I guess I have to since Lorenzo shared painful details of his family life with me.
“We were in the same class at high school.”
“You were high school sweethearts?” Lorenzo asks.
“No, but school is how we knew each other. We met again at my twenty-first birthday celebrations. I’d just got back from studying in England. We ended up dating for a couple of years.”
“Until he got arrested?” Lorenzo asks.
“Yeah. He stabbed some poor kid in a nightclub, jumped him from behind. It was a cowardly thing to do.” For some reason that has always bothered me more than Adriano almost killing a complete stranger. There’s something deeply dishonorable about the way he acted. “There was no way I could be with him after that.”
What I don’t tell him is that Adriano had tried to convince me to lie for him, to say the kid had assaulted me and he was only defending me.
It wouldn’t have worked. I wasn’t even at the club that night. The prosecutors would have seen the lie for what it was and I’d have ended up being charged with obstructing justice or perjury, or something.
Lorenzo looks pensive. “You know I’m no saint, Lucia. I’ve committed many violent acts.”
“And I’m not okay with that, but I accept it’s a part of your life.”
“Why?” Lorenzo tilts his head to the side as he searches my eyes for an answer. “Why is it okay for me but not for Rossini?”
“I don’t know. I guess I like you better.”
Unlike Adriano, he’s not a petty thug and Lorenzo has never given me cause to think he would hurt me. Adriano never put his hands on me during our relationship, but his temper scared me.
Lorenzo nods. He looks like he wants to probe further but thankfully the buzzer for the apartment rings.
“That will be Daniele with the food.”
As Lorenzo gets up and goes to answer the door, I breathe a sigh of relief, grateful for the interruption.
A frightening realization hits me. I don’t just like Lorenzo better, I love him. How the hell have I let this happen?
TWENTY-ONE
Lucia
I decideto head to the restaurant to get an early start on prepping for tonight’s service. As usual, we have a full house, including a birthday party for a seventy-nine-year-old woman who’s been coming to Gianetta’s every year since she turned eighteen. She has a fondness for torta di mandorle.
Nicolo’s too much of a snob to make such a simple cake, so I always bake one for her. My grandmother’s recipe never fails.
I grab my bag and head out of the apartment. As I’m walking downstairs, a man in a dark suit is coming up. He’s tall with dark hair and cold eyes. There’s a tattoo on the back of his hand, a skull with a dagger sticking through the eye socket. It’s grotesque.
