Page 15 of Mine Again
That’s not him. Like my father, he’s always in full control. Unreadable. Distant.
But right now his face is tense, his suit jacket rumpled, his eyes scanning the shadows like he’s bracing for a monster to leap out.
If Luigi’s cracking, then the whole world must be tilting.
When he spots us, he shouts, “Get in, Luca. Now.”
Leonora appears from behind the car and rushes toward me, pulling me into a fierce hug. Her whole body trembles, tears streaking her cheeks.
What the hell is happening?
Luca doesn’t release my hand. If anything, his grip tightens, his thumb pressing against my skin like he’s making sure I’m still here.
“I’m so sorry, Isabella,” Leonora chokes.
Sorry? For what?
“Leonora, get in the car!” Luigi barks. “Luca, say your goodbye. Now.”
Goodbye? What is he talking about?
Luca turns to me, panic flashing in his eyes. Real, raw panic. I’ve never seen him like this.
His unraveling knocks the air from my lungs. It’s like watching the sun fall out of the sky.
If he’s scared, truly scared, what hope do I have of holding it together?
“Come with me,” he blurts, clutching my hand like it’s the only truth he has left.
“What?” three voices say at once, mine among them.
Luca pulls me a few steps away from his parents. It doesn’t give us real privacy, but even that small distance from the people trying to tear us apart is like a breath of air in a suffocating room.
“I can’t leave you. You belong with me, Isa. You always have.”
His words hit like a lightning strike to the chest. My heart lurches, tears prickling behind my eyes.
He’s said sweet things before, whispered promises against my skin. But this?
This is different.
This is desperation.
This is aboutourforever.
Something deep inside me twists. That aching, knowing part of me that’s always felt tethered to him.
Truth is, I don’t know how to be without him. He’s part of me.
I don’t hesitate. “Yes. I’ll go anywhere with you.”
“Don’t be an idiot,” Luigi snaps, stepping forward. “She cannot come. It’s going to be damn near impossible for the three of us to leave Sicily unnoticed.”
He throws his arms up dramatically, so unlike the cool, unyielding capo he usually portrays. Then something shifts in his expression, as if a thought has just struck him.
“It’s too dangerous,” he says coldly. “You don’t want to risk Isabella’s life, son.”
Luca freezes for a beat, then begins to pace, raking a hand through his hair, torn in two. His face contorts with torment.
