Chapter 12

LORENZO

I woke to rain tapping against the window, the harsh and rhythmic pitter-patter mimicking the storm raging inside me.

Remembering the night before, my thoughts turned to Mia.

That she was here, under my roof, was a twist I never anticipated, unimaginable.

The fucking circumstances that had brought her here were past belief, a cruel turn of fate.

I hoped she'd slept well.

I hadn't.

I'd stayed up late, tossing, turning, mulling, and analysing my next move.

I slipped out of bed, my body stiff from the night's tension, and tracked to the bathroom. Outside the window, I tagged fast-moving clouds and angry skies, reflecting my mood.

Standing before the mirror, I studied the harsh lines on my face, which testified to my turmoil and lack of sleep.

After a torrid curse, I shaved, dressed and headed downstairs. In the kitchen, I brewed a pot of coffee, and soon, the aroma of fresh grounds filled the air.

I poured a cup, the warmth seeping into my bones as I sipped, taking my time.

The caffeine hit, rousing my senses as the rain outside continued to fall.

I caught the sound of soft footfalls on the hardwood floor.

Turning my head, I set eyes on Mia.

My heart lurched.

She was fuckin' beautiful, her auburn hair shining in the morning light.

She was in another of her pastel-coloured outfits, this time soft peach gym pants and crop top, her feet bare.

I stared at them, enamoured by her pink-tipped toes. I raked my eyes back up over her long legs and supple thighs encased in velvet, the gorgeous hint of a waist in the cut-off top, and her high generous tits.

Last of all, her face, which I could wake up to every dawn for an eternity.

Sucking in air, I hoped my monumental internal slobbering was not showing on my face, as it was my hardening cock outlining my shorts.

I changed posture, rounding the kitchen counter to lean forward on it, eyes still locked on her, hiding my throbbing member.

‘Buongiorno,' I rumbled as her soft, shy, lilac eyes met mine.

‘Morning.'

I jolted again as she responded, her utterance husky, sending a bolt of need through me.

‘Slept well?' I asked, trying to keep my rumble steady.

She hesitated before answering, her eyes searching my gaze. ‘Yes, I did, thank you.'

A measure of relief hit me, for her distress was the last thing I wanted.

That said, she'd been the consummate cold-as-ice sidekick the previous night. Not even flinching at the sight of the dead intruder on my floor nor hesitating to bring his companion down.

My admiration for her had only ratcheted even higher after seeing her unwavering courage in the face of danger and her cool head in action.

I had to give her credit. She'd made me feel like I was the one she was protecting, not the other way around. When our lives hung in the balance, she'd stepped up to the plate and displayed nerves of steel, which only raised my esteem for her.

After a beat, she spoke up. ‘I suppose you're going to be looking into last night?'

Her eyes lingered on me, searching for answers.

I jerked. ‘Fuck yeah. I need to figure out what happened, even though I suspect who was behind it. We can't let this slide, Mia.'

Her name was a vow on my lips, a promise I intended to keep no matter what.

Uncertainty and trust flickering in her eyes. ‘I want to help. I don't want to be a burden, but I can't just sit by and do nothing.'

Her words struck a chord deep within me. She wasn't an encumbrance but an anchor in the storm churning around us.

‘You're not a burden, cara,' I growled, the endearment hanging between us like an unspoken truth.

She understood the meaning; I tagged it in her eyes as an enticing blush crept up her cheeks, the gentle hue making her even more alluring. I craved to bend to her, cup her face, lift her chin and take her mouth.

I imagined tasting the sweetness of those lips, their warmth and gentleness on my own.

I caught her soft breaths and visualised the way her hands would run over me, how she would surrender to me in entirety.

I yearned to learn her body and soul, to draw her close and never let her go. But as much as I desired her, we couldn't afford the luxury of distraction right now.

She hesitated for a moment, but then she nodded, her mouth softening as she glanced at me. It was a small victory, but it was one I cherished.

Her eyes, however, reflected a storm of emotions. ‘What if they come back?'

A bitter smile tugged at my lips. ‘They've tried before. But I'm not going down without a fight.'

‘I'll be right there with you.'

Her fighting words warmed me, giving me a sliver of hope that told me, somehow, she cared for me.

‘I don't doubt it, Mia,' I said, gripping my mug tight to avoid reaching for her.

A soft knock at the door interrupted us.

My eyes tagged Mauri as he limped into the kitchen, his stoic features etched with pain from his injuries. ‘Boss, Jones he'd no chance once I unleashed my love on her.

MIA

I'd resigned myself to my present reality.

Besides, Lorenzo's mansion I was in was not a bad place to be trapped for a few days.

It was luxurious, with every amenity imaginable, including a second underground lap pool, heated spa and jacuzzi room and a well-equipped gym.

I made several phone calls to reschedule my business appointments and shift my classes to virtual. I spoke to Linda and Sadie to reassure them I was alright. I gave them a vague excuse that I was with a friend for a while, so they needn't send cops after me.

I also used Lorenzo's credit card to order what we needed in the house.

I'd had one change of clothes in my bag, and requiring more, I indulged in a girly moment, picking out outfits from my favourite online store.

The groceries arrived first, and I tossed together a quick, vibrant Moroccan salad loaded with caramelised roasted veggies, charred haloumi, crispy chickpeas, zingy pickled onions and a creamy tahini dressing.

I served it with crusty herb bread, and I realised I'd hit the mother load when my two companions dived into the guaranteed crowd-pleaser.

We sat at the kitchen table, looking out at a rare, overcast, rainy day in Manly.

Beyond the mansion was the beach and the sea, grey with the promise of even more rain.

Inside the house, however, a recovering Mauri and I bantered and a sense of blessed peace amid the storm.

Lorenzo leaned back from his plate, enjoying our wordplay with a slight smile, crossed hands over his broad chest.

‘The food was perfect, Mia,' he rasped, his eyes heated as he spoke. ‘What else did you get up to today?' he drawled.

‘Some retail therapy.

My laptop was open on the counter, and his eyes flicked to it, as did the visual evidence of my online buying spree.

‘You sure know how to make the most of being cooped up in a luxurious mansion,' Mauri quipped, his voice laced with amusement.

I shrugged.

‘We have to keep the economy going,' Lorenzo rasped. ‘Plus, Mia needed some killer outfits to match her lethal instincts. She was magnificent last night.'

‘Indeed, padrone,' Mauri echoed.

My cheeks flushed at the compliment, blushing with surprise and gratitude. ‘You didn't have to say it, but thank you,' I murmured.

‘Oh, it's my pleasure,' Lorenzo replied. ‘Besides, what's a little retail therapy amongst two body baggers?'

Mauri chuckled under his breath, shaking his head in mock exasperation. ‘You two are something else.'

Our laughter resonated, ludicrous in light of the ridiculous situation we'd found ourselves in.

‘Speaking of,' I asked, ‘is there anything further on who might have leaked your house purchase?'

Lorenzo and Mauri exchanged glances.

‘Mr Jones did some digging at our insistent behest, and we believe one of his junior lawyers was pressed into sharing the information.'

‘With whom?'

Lorenzo's eyes locked on me. ‘A family who have it for us.'

‘Mafia?'

Lorenzo huffed, confirming my guess.

‘Who exactly?' I asked. ‘Now that I'm in your world, I need to know.'

LORENZO

I gave her a long look, assessing, cutting to her motive.

I concluded that she meant well with her question and had proven trustworthy.

‘Whatever I share stays with you within this close circle. These facts are only ever shared with wives, siblings or a consigliere, of which Mauri is mine.'

Mia took a breath yet still held my gaze.

‘However, because you've also witnessed me kill, and since you're on my side, I am allowed to break the code with you. As long as you never breathe a word of it to anyone. Bella, I need you to think about this before I continue.'

Her eyes sliced to the overcast view past the swimming pool and fence line, to the surging sea beyond, her eyes following the roll of crashing surf.

After a moment or two, Mauri and I exchanged worried glances as she swung her beautiful head back to me.

‘I can deal. So please share.'

I lifted a brow and inclined my head. ‘Here it is. Omertà originated as a natural outcome of early outlaw societies. At the start of the 19th century, the Kingdom of the Two Sicilies was in decline. In the resulting disorder, groups of bandits started operating as private armies for those willing to pay. This marked the emergence of the Mafia.'

Her eyes widened, but she nodded, and I went on.

‘After the unification of Italy in the 1860s, the ‘men of honour' in the south adopted a strict code: never talk to the authorities about criminal activities, even involving enemies, under any circumstances. The punishment for violating this rule was death.'

She inhaled, yet undaunted, she met my gaze.

‘Our family evolved into the guardians of Omertà throughout most of Southern Italy, meaning we were the honour protectors, the law amongst the unlawful. We trained and honed into assassins and trusted soldiers for various mob bosses. We upheld the families' paramilitary structures, influencing every level of our society. We oversaw the blood oaths of silence which bound each initiated ‘made man', the Omertà.'

I sucked my teeth before continuing. ‘We became the ‘Obsidian Omertà Keepers. Security experts, militia advisers and vault keepers. However, over time, my father kicked off the process of cutting us free from the chains that tied us to the Mafia. To be clear, though, he didn't want us to break Omertà. He only desired we walk away from it.'

‘How?' Mia asked.

‘Foreseeing the end, he began investing our clan money into legit business,' Lorenzo shared. ‘He pulled us away from the corridors of Mafia power. As insurance, he did share all the secrets he grasped with my brothers and me and bound us to silence. But he also sent us to study and work as far away from Naples as possible. I went to London, and my siblings Alessio and Valerio to Montreal and New York. He dispatched my youngest brother, Vitto, to university in Sydney and set up a front for the family. So when the right time came, we'd move lock stock and barrel to a different home. However, he died before his vision became a reality.'

Mia's face softened. ‘I'm so sorry he passed.'

I dipped my head in acknowledgement. ‘He and my mother died in a car bomb together, we believe, because they were questioning Carlo Abrazzio's brutality as well as shifting their focus to legit business, which scared some of our Alliance members. After we buried them, my brothers and I were free to discontinue the code of total honour, as my father's pact was more binding for him than our initiation. We acknowledged existing agreements while slowly shifting our business to legitimate endeavours. Still, a few of the families are unconvinced we'll remain mute and are gunning for us, reluctant to believe in our vow of absolute Omertà. So unwilling to provide further services to the other Mafia syndicates, we're consolidating and moving out of Italy.'

‘Here?'

‘Yes. The issue is our problems are following us to our new home. The Abrazzios are gunning for us, thinking that we might spill the beans on their secrets. We believe they sent the assassins. They're ruthless, and this is not their first attempt, so we must be careful.'

Without hesitation, Mia's hand reached across the table, and she took mine, resting her second hand over it.

The unexpected warmth and compassion of her touch jolted me.

I closed my eyes, savouring it, even as I sensed Mauri rise and limp from the kitchen.

I squeezed her hand back, and we stayed entwined for a long moment.

When Mia broke the connection, she gazed up at me with a tender vulnerability, which took my breath away.

‘Grazie mille,' I murmured, heart churning, soul needing.

I was convinced that our shared experience, our unexpected bond in this strange and difficult situation, was something we would never forget.

‘You're welcome,' she replied, her voice soft.

We sat in silence, each lost in our thoughts as we finished our meal and the rain continued to pound outside.

Seeking relief from the pent-up tension, I pulled out a case of my cigarettes.

She studied me as I tapped one out of the pack and lit it.

‘Herbal?'

I huffed and nodded. ‘They're a botanical mix and 100% natural.'

‘I gather then you smoked the real deal?'

‘Almost too much. As a young Italian man, they're a right of passage. Instead of nicotine, I'm inhaling basil, licorice, clove and cinnamon. It's my way of quitting tobacco.'

She smiled.

‘Che cosa?' I pushed.

‘Now I know what that delicious essence is on you.'

A thrill went through me at how her eyes softened with sensuousness. ‘Delicious?'

She cocked her head, voice smoky. ‘Wild. Do they work?'

‘They reduce cravings and stress, relaxing me when needed.'

‘Coffee is my drug of choice, and on that note, I need a cup,' she said. ‘Want one?'

I nodded, and she rose, headed for the coffee machine.

I spent the next few moments in heaven, following her every move as she prepped. Our eyes clashed and often locked in a silent conversation.

I accepted the cup with a slight chin jerk.

Our hands brushed, and desire snaked between us, raising the hairs on my arm and giving me a sharp longing to own all of her, to stroke the skin I craved to touch, and to savour the curve of her lips.

She sensed it, too, her lilac eyes dilating and mouth parting with a depth of hunger that tugged at something buried deep within me.

I leaned back in my chair, exhaling a cloud of fragrant smoke from my herbal cigarette.

I came alongside her when she rose to gather the dishes from the table.

We cleared, washed and dried the crockery, the atmosphere hushed with unspoken, raw need.

The rain outside intensified, drumming against the windows in a relentless orchestra, but the storm raging beyond the mansion was nothing compared to the tumult of emotions inside me.