Page 22 of His Savage Vow
“I have no doubt that you will, Maximo. If there’s anything I can do to help, remember that I’m only a phone call away.”
“Goodbye, Salvatore.” I disconnect the call and throw my phone down on the table, almost on top of the remaining BLT that Leonard brought down.
“So…who is Il Diavolo Bianco?” Constance asks.
“Salvatore Bianchi, The White Devil, the head of the Bianchi family over in Jersey. He and my father used to occasionally work together. He’s a conniving old bastard. And hewouldn’t have called me unless there was something in it for him.”
“Do you think he was telling the truth about the Chinese killing my father?” Her voice sounds eager, and I can see the flush of fury rising in her cheeks. “Maybe he was really just trying to be helpful. How can we check to make sure?”
“I don’t know,” I admit. “I don’t trust Bianchi as far as I can throw him. My own father warned me not to trust him. He says it’s the Chinese trying to push into my territory, but for years they’ve kept to themselves on their little slice of the city. I can’t imagine why they would risk making a move against me now.”
“It’s still a possible lead, right?” Constance is breathing rapidly, excited to find a target for her grief. I can’t ignore her excitement and even feel it infecting me. “If there’s a chance he’s telling the truth, it’s a thread worth pulling.”
Her hazel eyes ignite with purpose, and I feel the shift in her. She’s not breakable. She’s combustible.
“Let’s adjourn our lesson for now and let me make some more calls. Enzo and his crew have been running down leads. I’ll check with them to see what they’ve found.”
“What should I do in the meantime?” Constance asks me, her brow furrowing in frustration. She wants a job. A purpose.
“You should get ready for dinner with me tonight at eight.” I smile at her hoping to ease her anxiety.
“What? I can do more here than be your dinner date…” she starts to argue.
“Not right now you can’t. I need to work, Constance. Let me get to it,” I tell her before I turn away.
“I can do more, Maximo!” she insists as I start up the stairs.
That’s the problem. I keep imagining a future where she no longer needs me at all.
“I know you can, firefly,” Iassure her.
Her eyes soften for half a second at the nickname. It’s nothing, should be nothing, yet somehow it unravels me anyway.
Wanting her, needing her, knowing she may never look at me the way I look at her, it’s all fucking dangerous.
Which is why I force myself to remind us both why she’s here. “Get yourself ready for what comes next.”
And even though I know I should just let it go, I can’t help but blurt out the burning question I’ve kept bottled up all day. “Why didn’t you join me this morning?”
“What?” she asks. “I’m down here with you now.”
“No, I meant for breakfast. You requested a tray in your room . Do I have to order you to have two meals a day with me?” I’m only half joking.
“Oh,” Constance replies, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear and lowering her gaze to the floor. “It’s just…I’m a mess in the mornings.”
“A mess?” I repeat in confusion.
She nods. “Before I get a shower, put makeup on, and fix my hair.”
Finally, I think I begin to understand. Constance actually cares what I think about how she looks? That’s why she avoided me this morning? It’s ridiculous. And…interesting.
Maybe she’s not as unaffected by me as I thought. Is it possible that she wants me too?
Even the possibility, however slim, is a fucking relief. That’s why I tell her honestly before heading upstairs, “I’d still like to see you in the mornings, all of you. I can handle the messy parts.”
9
“The world can be cruel, sweetheart. Don’t let it talk you out of being the person you want to become.”
