Page 52 of Blood Money
I went to Walgreens last Tuesday, and he was there buying razors. He had a beard now, so did he really need razors? Maybe. Hell, I didn’t know. He was making me question everything.
“Nonna, I think you’re reading more into this than there is,” I flippantly bullshitted with a fake laugh.
With a sigh, she took my hand. “Sometimes, life gives us second chances. Though I may not approve of their family, Vittorio is, at heart, a good boy.”
I wanted to laugh at her calling that sexy beast a “boy.”
“Umm, okay?”
“I’m just saying, maybe you two have some things to talk about.”
My spine stiffened. “Nonna….”
Her hand went up. “Just think about it.”
“Sure,” I told her, though I had no intention of having a heart-to-heart with Vittorio De Luca. That ship had sailed.
Then sunk.
And he fired the torpedo.
I walked with her to the door and followed her down the stairs, ready to lunge if she looked unsteady.
Mom and Dad met us halfway, and Dad insisted on her holding his shoulder the rest of the way down.
We said our goodbyes again, and I tried not to cry. I would miss them.
As their rental car pulled away, I wondered what my grandmother believed she’d done and prayed it didn’t have anything to do with what I thought it did.
He hadn’t cared then—I didn’t know if I wanted him to care now.
The next morning, I was filling the display case as the bell rang. I’d slept like crap thanks to having nightmares all night. It was gonna be a long damn day. When I stood up with a forced welcoming look, it fell when I saw who it was.
“Good morning.” His smile was bright, and I wanted to punch him in the throat.
No one should be that cheery so early in the morning. Nor should they look that goddamn good.
Not a hair out of place, custom tailored suit pressed and pristine, he was a walking god.
With a snarl, I pulled out his nasty muffin and slapped it on a plate, because he’d insist on sitting at one of the tables to eat it, then grabbed a cup that I poured coffee into—black. I slammed the plate down on the counter by the register, surprised I didn’t break the dang thing. The coffee I was a little more cautious with.
In silence, I rang him up. When I gave him his change, I dropped it in his palm and jerked my hand back to ensure we didn’t make contact. Because I couldn’t lie, I was afraid of my response if we did.
As always, he dropped it all as a tip in the jar. I wanted to take it out and shove it up his ass.
“Thank you,” he warmly replied as if I hadn’t been a raging bitch to him.
Mouth hanging open, I watched him walk over to his table.Damn his perfect ass.Despite the expensive jacket disguising it, I could still see it with each step he took.
The morning rush kept me busy, and I didn’t have a lot of time to pay Vittorio much mind. Finally, it began to dwindle, and I breathed a sigh of relief.
The bell jingled again, and I glanced toward the door with a tired smile. When Konstantin walked in, I wanted to groan.What shitty timing.
“Welcome in!” I brightly greeted. “What can I get for you today, Mr. Woodsman?”
“What if I just came in for the view?” he teased.
The clatter of a mug hitting the table had both of us glancing over. Vittorio sat there with the muscle in his jaw ticking as he stared at his phone. He wasn’t fooling me, but I got a perverse pleasure from his ire.