Chapter 65

He searched my face, and then one side of his mouth lifted in a knowing smirk. I pulled my hand from his and returned it to my lap, then turned back to the window.

We rode in silence the rest of the way, only the soft notes of a piano coming over the car's speakers to break the tension between us.

What seemed like forever but was probably only a few minutes later, Enzo rolled down the privacy glass. "We'll be there in two minutes, Luca."

Reaching inside his jacket, Luca pulled out his Glock and checked that it was ready to go before he slid it back into the holster. "Pull up as close to the front door of the restaurant as you can get," he told him. "I'll slide out Veda's side." To me he said, "When Enzo stops the car, get out, but stay behind the door until I'm with you. Understand?"

Oh, I understood all right. "If it's not safe for us, why are we here?"

He must've heard the thread of panic in my voice, for he brought his eyes back around to mine. "Nothing will happen to you."

Tonight. I heard the unspoken word, even though he didn't say it. He didn’t have to.

He reached out for my hand, but I pulled it away.

"Veda. I won't let anything happen to you, amore. Just do exactly as I say until we get inside, understand?"

I nodded and tried to calm my racing heart.

"I'm not expecting any trouble, but it never hurts to be prepared."

Again, I nodded. What else was I supposed to do?

We pulled up to a small cottage that looked like it had been lifted right out of the Irish countryside. White with green trim, I half expected to see fairies flitting about the gardens out front. Or a hobbit with furry feet to walk out the little wooden door. I went to reach for the door handle, but Luca stopped me with a hand on my arm. “Hang on, Veda."

Enzo had his phone to his ear. After a few seconds, he gave the go-ahead.

"I'll be right behind you," Luca told me.

I opened the door and slid out, wobbling a bit on my heels before stepping aside just enough to give Luca room to get out. I may have been there against my will, but I wasn’t stupid. I didn’t want to get shot. Enzo came around the back of the car, and after a quick look around, the three of us walked swiftly to the entrance.

Enzo opened the door, blocking us with his body, and we were greeted with raucous laughter as we walked into a small foyer that was littered with photos of previous guests and an old-fashioned sign-in book. Beyond the foyer, there were three small rooms that branched off the center of the cottage, and each room had just enough tables to fill the space, but still give the patrons a sense of privacy. Old-fashioned wallpaper covered the walls, white with little green flowers. White lace tablecloths covered each table, and there were real candles in the center. Not the fake kind with the electric bulbs made to look like them. The laughter I’d heard upon entering came from the very back. And from the portion of that room I could see, there were people packed inside, wall to wall.

"I'm going to park the car and I'll be right back," Enzo told Luca just as a lovely woman with long, straight, dark hair, pink lipstick that didn’t match her coloring, and a modest flowery dress came to greet us.

"Welcome! Welcome!" she said. Her voice was hushed and had a lilting Irish accent. Up close, I could see she was older than she’d first appeared. Probably in her late forties, at least. "How are you, Luca?"

"I'm fine, Marg. Thank you. How are you and the family?"

"Oh, we're well. Thank you so much for asking." She smiled at me and picked up a couple of menus, then led us to the back room.

There was an uproar of greetings as we entered the space, and I immediately spotted the birthday boy sitting at the head of a long table with a cigar in his mouth and a crown on his head. And not like a paper crown that you buy at a party store, but one that appeared to be pure gold with different colored stones at the tip of each peak.

If I were a betting girl, I would put my money on that thing being actual real gold and gemstones.

The man wearing it had skin like leather and a sunken mouth, but when he spotted Luca, he smiled wide, revealing a lack of teeth. It transformed his face, his cloudy eyes sparkling as he tried to get up without upsetting his crown. "Come here, boy!" he yelled in a strong Italian accent.

Taking my hand, Luca made his way through the crowd of people to greet his uncle. "Ciao, zio. How are you?" Still holding my hand, he kissed him on both cheeks.

"I might actually make it to my birthday," the man exclaimed. Then his watery eyes landed on me. "And who is this bella ragazza?"

"This pretty girl," Luca translated for me with a wink, "is Nicole.” The name slid naturally from his lips. "Amore, meet my favorite uncle."

The elderly man took both of my hands in his and kissed my knuckles. "Ah, it's so nice to meet you, Nicole," he told me. "I'm Aldo."

"Thank you for letting me crash your party," I told him.

"Did you bring me a gift?" he asked.

I pressed my lips together and shook my head. "No. Sorry." And I really was. "Luca didn't give me a chance to go shopping."

He waved his hand toward his nephew with a "Pfft. Of course he didn't. If he's smart, he won't let you out of his sight."

Oh, if you only knew.

"You come sit here by me," he told me. "I'm the most interesting person at this party anyway."

"Now that I believe," I told him sincerely.

As I took my chair, Luca leaned down and told me, "I'm going to leave you in my uncle's trusted hands for a moment. I'll be right back." Then, putting his mouth right against my ear, he said, "Remember where you are. These are not the people who will save you."

Icy fingers trailed down my spine as Luca walked away. I watched him touch the sleeve of another man—quite a bit shorter than Luca and with darker hair—then lean in to say something. The man nodded and excused himself from the lady—and I mean that loosely—he was with. The other women there were giving her just as much side-eye as I was. I guess even mobsters had some standards. With a last glance in my direction, Luca followed the other man and the two of them went out a side door.

I felt Luca's uncle pat my hand. "Don't you worry, Luca has some business to discuss with my other nephew, and then he'll be right back. Until then, you're safe here with me. We'll order some drinks, and you can tell me all about yourself." He waved to the waiter who'd just appeared at the table and was taking more drink orders.

"I'd much rather hear about you," I told him. And I meant it. Looking like my sister was one thing. I'd dealt with that my entire life. Pretending to be anything more...I wasn't sure I could do it without bursting into tears. For her. And for me.

He ordered us some wine, and then with a wink, he said, "I'll tell you about my boyhood growing up in Italy."

"I would really love that," I said in all honesty. And I settled in to hear his stories.