Chapter 23
Nonnina clicked her tongue and swatted the back of his head lightly. “Always with the dramatics. You kill family, you rot from the inside. That’s the rule p>
“He provokes me on purpose p>
“Of course he does,” she said, unfazed. “He’s jealous and bored. Dangerous combination p>
Luca stared at his plate without touching it. His appetite had vanished, replaced by the slow churn of thoughts he didn’t like examining. His wife. Bianca. Julian’s words hit too close to the bone, scraping at guilt Luca preferred to keep locked away. He had married out of duty, yes, but abandonment still left a stain.
And now there was another woman. One he’d bought. One he couldn’t stop thinking about.
“You look distracted,” Nonnina said gently, reading him like she always had.
“I’m fine.” Luca picked up his fork at last, though his mind was far from the food. Veronica’s fire flashed behind his eyes. The way she fought. The way she hated him.
Luca’s phone pinged softly against the dining table. He glanced at the screen without much thought at first, fork still in hand.
Then he saw the image of Veronica as Cassidy opened the car door for her. Her body angled toward him in a way Luca did not like one bit.
He stared at the picture, the muscles in his face going rigid. The dress she wore was shorter than he liked.
He typed his response.
’Stay on her. Keep me updated. Let me know as soon as she gets back home p>
He locked the phone and placed it face down, forcing himself to pick up his fork again.
He chewed mechanically. He had told her to get her affairs in order. He meant it. He was not cruel enough to deny her closure. Or was he? Honestly, he had no idea the height of his cruelty anymore.
Nonnina hovered nearby, arranging dishes, watching him from the corner of her eye. She had raised Luca long enough to read the subtle signs. The stillness. The way his shoulders remained squared even while seated.
“You barely touched your food,” she said at last, pouring him a glass of juice and setting it down in front of him.
“Not hungry p>
“Liar,” Nonnina replied calmly.
“Nonni,” he started, then stopped. He exhaled slowly. “I’m going to be having a house guest for a few days while I prepare where she will be staying p>
“She?” she echoed.
“Yes,” Luca answered shortly, hoping the clipped tone would end it there. He took a sip of juice, eyes fixed forward, already bracing for impact.
“She,” Nonnina repeated again.
Luca set the glass down with care. “It’s temporary p>
“Who is she to you p>
Luca exhaled slowly through his nose, already regretting the conversation. With Nonnina, there was no such thing as breezing past anything.
“A business sort of thing,” Luca said.
“You never bring work home,” she said simply, stating a fact carved from years of observation.
Luca shifted in his seat. “It’s not work work,” he clarified. “It’s…personal business. Just for a few days. And she will be gone p>
“You want any arrangements made for her?” she asked.
He nodded. “Yes. Get her a personal attendant. She should have access to whatever she needs. I’ll give you a card to give to her. If and when she needs it.” He paused briefly, then added, “She can choose whichever car she wants from the garage. Driver on standby if she prefers p>
The list came out smoothly.
Nonnina’s eyebrow lifted slowly. “You sound like a man setting up a kept woman,” she said dryly. “Or a mistress p>
“Nonni Luca groaned, dragging a hand down his face.
She waved him off immediately. “Va bene, va bene. I won’t ask.” She turned away, then stopped dead in her tracks and glanced back over her shoulder. “Except one thing p>
Of course.
“What p>
“Is she sleeping in your room p>
An image flashed uninvited through his mind. Veronica in his space. His bed. His sheets, moaning and yearning for him. He crushed the image immediately.
“No,” he said firmly. “Situate her at the other end of the house. She gets her privacy p>
Nonnina gave a small nod. “I’ll make the arrangements p>
“Thank you,” Luca said, genuine.
“I’ll run you a bath,” she said, already turning away.
His phone pinged again.
Another update. Veronica and Cassidy just arrived at Cassidy’s house.
He rose from the table and returned to the bar. Whiskey sloshed into the glass.
He took the glass to his bedroom, turned on the sound system.
Clothes came off without thought. He lit his cigar, and sank into the hot tub. For a while, the heat worked. The whiskey worked. His mind loosened its grip.
For a while.
Afterward, routine took over. He dried off, dressed, made transactions, issued instructions. Money moved. Midnight crept in quietly, and still there were no new updates.
He checked his phone again. Nothing.
He exhaled slowly and made the call.
“She’s still there,” the lookout said.
He ended the call, already moving. Jeans. T shirt. Jacket. He exited the house, anger finally choosing a direction.
The garage doors lifted. He got into one of the cars, the engine roaring to life, and pulled out of the compound, headlights slicing through the night.
Cassidy sat on the floor between her thighs, back resting against her knees, completely at ease.
On the screen, The Ranch played, laugh track floating through the room. Cassidy snorted at a joke, then tilted his head back to look at Veronica.
“There’s no way a man who just returned from clearing cow shit still gets kissed. Does her nose work p>
Veronica laughed.
Cassidy’s fingers traced lazy circles on Veronica’s thighs, absent minded, affectionate. Veronica let her head fall back against the couch, eyes half closed, letting herself exist in this moment.
She rested her hand on Cassidy’s shoulder, fingers curling slightly.
“You want another glass of wine?” Cas asked.
“Fuck yeah!” Vee exclaimed, grinning as she threw Colt’s catchphrase into the air.
Cassidy laughed. He pushed himself to his feet and headed toward the kitchen, shaking his head. “You’re enjoying this way too much p>