Page 151 of Mafia And Maid
“Bye, buddy. I’ll talk to you when I can.” He sounds strained, though he’s putting on his best mask. “Rosa, I’ll get one of my men to drop over a bag with clothes for you and Ethan. And my soldiers will keep watch over things while you’re staying there. I have to keep you safe.”
The silence beats between us. “Camillo?” I say quietly.
“Yeah?”
“Thank you. For everything.”
“Of course. I gotta go.” He pauses, dragging his hand down his face. His knuckles are wrapped, but I can just see the fresh bruise peeking out. “I’ll talk to you later.”
Both Ethan and I wave Camillo goodbye, but I can’t help the pit that forms in my stomach. The undeniable sense that there’s far more I should have said to him weighs my limbs down as I lead Ethan down to the kitchen.
Reagan’s words swirl around in my head. She’s never been one to pull her punches. And if she sees Camillo in the way she described—as a common thug—then most of the world we reside in does too. But they don’t know Camillo like I do. Except even I can’t deny that there’s a darkness that lingers around him. Around all the Marchianos. Something that should scare me and tell me to stay away. And yet, I can’t.
Even as we make our way down the staircase, I can’t shake the feeling that something’s wrong. The way he looked at the end of our conversation—it was slightly off.
Maybe it’s better that Camillo’s not here after all. I can blend in until this is over. I can take up as little space as I can and hope it all goes so fast it won’t even matter. Except it always does matter, and it always will…
CHAPTER 38
CAMILLO
It’s been a couple of hours since Rosa told me that she’s staying with her mother until the funeral. The groans of the man beneath my boot echo around the darkened warehouse. The single construction light illuminates his body and the mess I’ve made, getting the answers we need.
The moment I’d felt my phone vibrate, I’d pummeled him to the ground. Now I wish I’d ignored the call all together. I’m more wound up than ever, knowing that Rosa is by herself and without me.
My hand throbs every time I flex it, but it’s a welcome sting. Anything to keep the taunting laughs replaying in my mind and pit in my stomach from swallowing me whole.
“You look pissed,” Alessio tells me.
“Thanks for pointing out the obvious,” I snarl. “Anything else you’d like to comment on, or do you want to get this shit handled so we can get home?”
“Was that Rosa?”
“No, it was Jesus. And he said that nosy brothers don’t make the cut to see the pearly gates.”
He tilts his head to one side. “Bad news?”
“Nah, it was like a warm fucking hug. What do you think?” Surely, he can tell from my expression that it wasn’t good news—and that I don’t want to fucking talk about it.
“Camillo—”
“Unless you wanna go a few rounds with me, don’t start, okay? I don’t want to deal with Cate getting on my ass about messing up your face or some shit.”
Picking a fight with Alessio isn’t going to make this go away. It isn’t going to make Rosa decide to come back home where she fucking belongs. It isn’t going to get rid of the black pit that’s devouring me little by little the longer I let my thoughts run wild.
“Look, Alessio, you can finish this off. I’ve got other stuff to do.” I shove past him and toward the busted door of the warehouse. Abandoned and forgotten, somehow the building and I have too much in common for me to want to stay much longer. The clean-up crew will sort the place up after Alessio finishes what he needs to do. My job here is done.
“Millo.”
“What?” I whirl on my heel to face him.
“Don’t go back to her like this.”
“I didn’t ask for your advice.”
“I mean it…”
My shoulders tense. “She’s not coming home today, so no problem there. Any other questions you wanna ask, or am I free to go?”