Femme Fatale Reloaded (Pericolo #2)

I know for now that I need my brothers closer than ever. I need to feel like the threat of Giovanni isn’t hovering over my shoulder like a descendant of Lucifer preying on its next victim. He’s our modern day Mestopheles, and that is all he’ll ever be defined as. The great Salvatore Abbiati was never the devil incarnate, his spawn was.

“What you looking at, sweetheart?” Zane asks, occupying the seat beside me. “You’re looking pretty focused.”

I look at him and smile coyly. “Just looking at this one house.” I look back at the screen, eyeing up the picket fences, roses bushes, a large and open porch, and enormous windows that overlook the glorious front yard. “It’s almost perfect.”

“We can always go and have a look at it. Looking at setting our own roots,” he murmurs, his case captivated on the images before him.

“No,” I whisper, shaking my head. “First, it’s about everyone. Then we can look into a place for us to call home.” I take his hand, wrapping my fingers through his. “I need my family right now, Zane. That’s all.”

“I understand that, but they will push you to take control of your life,” he tells me, uttering truths to me.

“I know, but right now, I want them close,” I murmur, my tone hushed still.

“I know.” He says nothing else. All I feel is Zane pushing a kiss into the side of my head, forcing me to close my eyes as I enjoy the sheer moment of adoration.

“Plus, I know whatever house you pick for us will far exceed this.” I turn my head and look at him, smiling teasingly. “You think you can do that?”

“That house will be history,” he counters, grinning with agreement at the challenge.

“Good,” I softly say, reaching up to steal one delicate kiss. “Life has to be perfect after all this fucking shit.”

I lean into Zane’s embrace, my hand still reaching out to flick through the houses. I look at houses ranging in size to differing prices. They’re in Manhattan, outside Manhattan, and I also see that Carlo had opened a search to look further afield. I look at one and it’s in a quiet suburban neighborhood, much like Bruno’s, and I could imagine that sort of life sorting me perfectly. I’ve lived in the hustle and bustle of the city when I’m not cloistered away in the hellish mansion. Now is the time to really settle and think long and hard about life.

Which is where my number one problem creeps up on me.

“There’s no way we can afford any of these,” I mutter miserably looking at the prices only become higher than ever. “Not without money and Sal made sure the only income we had was straight from him.” I feel resentment bubble and I begin to scrunch my face up in disdain. “I know you’ve said you’ve put money aside and Carlo’s said he’ll continue working, but what about the rest of us?”

“I’ll go back to work,” Zane comments, showing his commitment.

“The Valentinos have offered consultation jobs,” Enzo comments, his so blasé that he doesn’t even pick up on my mood swiftly changing. “Since finding out about Gio, Dante Valentino’s already gotten in contact. He’s willing to help us where he can.”

“Dante Valentino?” Zane asks, noticing how stiff I’ve become.

“He’s an old friend of ours,” I immediately chime. My past with Dante was not the best.

“Amelia’s closest friend,” Enzo barks, chuckling a little as he covers up mine and Dante’s true motives at having a friendship.

“Not anymore,” I comment dryly.

I would ask how Dante found out about our family dramas, but the Valentinos were hardly strangers, and they aren’t part of the general public. They were a family much like ours, just far more corrupt. Their demise had started well before Dante was even born, and it was a twenty-six year spiral before it all ended in the most shocking way possible.

Dante was always my partner in crime, no romanticism involved, but he was a force I loved to run with. That was until he became the only living heir to the Valens family. Then he cut ties and disappeared. He was a massive part of my life while growing up and again when Zane broke up with me the first time. But we never indulged in gratification that wasn’t murderous.

He just broke that habit sooner – or so I assume.

“Should I be jealous?” Zane quips, derision in his tone.

“No!” I’m quick to defend. “Dante was like me. He was an assassin, but it destroyed everything he had. It didn’t end well for him and since then he left the world and everyone in it. He moved to California or somewhere, but he’s never made contact.” I flash a gaze over to Enzo. “Until now, apparently. He doesn’t know how life’s changed.”

“Oh, he knows. He does want to meet the great Zane Maverick,” Enzo jokes, giving a pointed look at Zane.

“He always did,” I joke, laughing wryly. “He hated you once upon a time. Not sure if he’d understand why I’m here loving you now.”

“He met his match, Amelia,” Carlo chirps, winking at me. “He can’t argue much considering how explosive he and Sammy were. You can’t argue with true love.”

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