King of Souls - L.A. Cotton Page 0,119

wondered if you knew what was up with him?”

Dread snaked through me, but I pasted on a smile. “Whatever it is, I’m sure it’s fine.”

“Yeah, you’re probably right.” He walked over to Nora and roped his arm around her neck. It was a display of total possessiveness if ever I’d seen one.

Arianne threw Nora a questioning look and she shrugged, but I saw the slight flush to her cheeks. Enzo had surprised her.

And she wasn’t the only one.

“So, what’s the plan?”

“We have a few more boxes to unpack. Matteo is getting Alessia and Bailey from school and then heading straight here.”

“Sounds good. Babe, check the refrigerator and see if Nicco got the beers in.” Enzo tapped Nora on the ass before diving over the couch.

“Hmm, what just happened?” She frowned at him and then us.

“I think Enzo grew feelings.”

“Heard that,” he grumbled.

“Are you two like... together?” Arianne whispered. “Because you said it was nothing.”

“I thought it was nothing.”

“I’ve known Enzo my entire life,” I said. “And that, the way he is with you, isn’t nothing. Just be careful, okay?” Enzo was complicated, and the last thing I wanted was for Nora to get hurt. Especially after everything she’d been through.

“Worry less about me and Enzo, and more about when your wife is going to let you get some,” she said around a half-smile, moving around us to the refrigerator.

“You told her?” I gawked at Arianne, and guilt filled her expression.

“Well, it’s hard not being able to... you know. I had to talk to someone.”

“Come here.” I snagged her waistband, yanking her closer and dipping my mouth to her ear. “Tonight, when our family and friends leave, I am going to carry you into our bedroom, strip you naked, and spend time reacquainting myself with every single inch of your skin.”

Her fingers twisted into my sweater as she suppressed a soft moan. “Any objections?” I asked and she shook her head. “Good, didn’t think so.”

Arianne turned slightly, brushing my lips with hers. “Until tonight.”

“Tonight,” I choked out.

Jesus Christ. It was going to be a long fucking day.

The next morning, my father summoned us to the house. We couldn’t catch a break. Enzo’s words from yesterday lingered in my mind. He was right, something was wrong. I just couldn’t put my finger on what.

The arrangement with Roberto was, to my knowledge, going as well as could be expected. Word from our contact down in local PD was that Mike Fascini was looking at serving serious time. Scott was gone, his case open and shut thanks to our friends in the police department. And doctors were confident I would make a full recovery.

“You’re nervous,” Arianne said as we climbed out of the SUV.

“Thanks.” I tipped my chin at Luis. He’d become our personal chauffeur since I was released from hospital. I couldn’t ride my bike or drive yet. And Arianne still hadn’t gotten her permit. It was on my list of things to do as soon as I was up to it.

“I just don’t like surprises.”

“I’m sure it’s nothing.” She leaned into my side.

“Yeah, probably.”

We entered the house and headed straight for my father’s study. “Niccolò, it’s a damn good sight to see you upright, Son.”

“Thanks.” I accepted his hug but didn’t miss the tightness in his expression.

“And Arianne, you look as beautiful as ever.”

“Thank you, Antonio. Should I leave the two of you—”

“Actually, this concerns you too. Please, sit.”

My senses were working overtime.

“After you and Tommy visited Vermont,” my father leaned forward, steepling his fingers, “Luis Vitelli provided Tommy with some information about the failed attempt on Arianne’s life.”

“I remember,” I said, wondering where he could possibly be going with this.

“Tommy did some more digging...” He inhaled a shaky breath, the blood draining from his face.

“He found something?”

“Nothing. He found nothing.”

“But that doesn’t make any sense.” I frowned. “It had to be Fascini.”

“I know, Son. Which is why I sent Tommy to see Mike Fascini.”

“What?” Now I was really confused.

“Something about the whole thing had been bothering me. Mike would have needed to pin the hit on us. There would have been a paper trail, something.” He scrubbed his jaw. “And then, when Fascini moved the wedding date, I started to wonder, what if Fascini didn’t orchestrate the hit, but provided the right person with the right information. But I discounted it because it is not possible.”

He was talking in riddles… until everything slammed into me.

“You think we have a traitor in our ranks.” It wasn’t a question.

I’d wondered myself how Fascini

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