On impulse, my fingers go to my locket. It’s a date I’ve been trying not to think about. “I know.”

  “God, I still miss him. Anyway”—Val clears his throat and shakes his head, his mouth barely tipping up on one side—“it’s really great seeing you, Lucy. We should have dinner one night while you’re here. I assume you’re going back to…”

  “Yeah, I’ll only be here for the wedding. And dinner sounds lovely. I’ll reach out in the next day or two and we can set something up,” I tell him.

  “That’ll be nice.” Val pauses and his expression softens. “I’ve missed you, you know. Six years is a long time to be gone without a word. You didn’t even let me know you were leaving. Or where you went.”

  “I know, I’m sorry. After everything, I just needed to get away,” I tell him. “A clean break from everything. And everyone.”

  “Even me?” Hurt crosses his face. “We were friends. Or at least I thought we were.”

  “Val,” I start, unsure what else to say.

  Enzo tugs my hand drawing my attention. “Go, Mama.”

  “Okay, baby.” I glance back up. “I’m sorry.”

  Val holds up his hands. “It’s okay. I know you have to go. But I really do hope we can get together before you leave, Lucia. It’ll be nice to catch up.”

  I nod, and Val steps around me to continue down the sidewalk. I appreciate the short distraction he offered, because it allowed me a moment to forget about Nathan.

  Chapter 10

  Nathan

  * * *

  I stare after Lucia as she leaves with my son. How many times are you going to let her walk away? A voice inside my head keeps telling me to stop her. But a second one tells me to let her go. Completely. Why am I trying so hard with a woman I barely know? I’m only twenty-four years old. Do I really want to be responsible for a kid? Maybe I should just forget about him. About them. Set up a fund and make sure they’re both taken care of financially, at least. Otherwise, I’ll stay out of their lives.

  It would be the easiest thing to do. Except when have you ever done things the easy way? Never. It’s not in me. I’m part of a family of some of the most stubborn people I know. Donnellys don’t give up. Even if Lucia continues to deny there’s anything between us, there’s still Enzo to consider. I’m not ready to play dirty. No yet anyway.

  Because despite her protestations, there had been a genuine flash of fear in her eyes when she’d shut done my request to get to know the both of them. She’d fingered that tarnished-gold locket around her neck. The same one she’d been wearing the day we met. Who gave it to her? Why has she reached for it whenever I’ve pressed her about her fears?

  I rise from behind the table, gather up all the empty plates and to-go containers, and throw everything in the trash. I walk through the park and out onto the sidewalk to hail a cab. No sooner do I slide into the backseat than my phone rings.

  “Hello?”

  “There’s a problem,” Jack bites out on the other end, his tone grave.

  “What’s going on?”

  “Not over the phone. Meet us at Empire.” He disconnects the line.

  Empire? If we’re meeting there, then it has something to do with the Italians.

  By the time the taxi drops me off in front of the casino owned by my brother-in-law, dusk has settled. The ten-story Empire sign decorating the front of the building is brightly lit. As is the entrance where luxury cars line the half-circle drive. Valets rush around greeting men wearing expensive suits with well-dressed women gracing their arms. The casino is known for its high rollers and card tables with opening bets larger than the average person’s yearly salary.

  I stride through the crowded casino floor where the heavy scent of perfume and raucous chiming from the slot machines assault me. The sensory overload diminishes the farther toward the back of the room I get until it’s nearly silent by the time I reach the elevator that will take me up to Emilio’s office on the twentieth floor.

  The door opens and I step inside. Seconds later, it opens again to an empty hallway with a stunning evening view of the East River and the city landscape. I turn in the opposite direction and make my way to the other end past several doors until I reach the one I want. I knock. Seconds later, it’s opened by a hulking figure silhouetted by the light from behind him.

  His expression is as it always is. Blank. Except his eyes. A fire burns in them. Nearly seven years later, and Pierce De Luca still scares the shit out of me as much as he did the first time I met him at Emilio and Brenna’s wedding.

  “Nathan,” he growls, staring me down a moment longer. Just long enough to make me twitchy. Then he turns and moves back into the room, leaving me to follow.

  I step inside and close the door behind me. The room is massive with one entire wall made up of tinted floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking nearly the entirety of Brooklyn King’s territory. But what draws a person’s attention within the room is the giant black desk with the currently vacant, throne-like chair behind it. Pierce takes his usual position against one of the walls. Several couches and various chairs are scattered about. Already seated are both my brothers and Gio.

  Where’s Emilio?

  “Jacob will be here in a minute,” Giovanni says, as though sensing my unasked question. “Might as well have a seat and get comfortable.”

  I drop into a cushioned leather chair next to Jack. We don’t have to wait long, because sure enough, moments later, the office door opens and Emilio strides through emanating more power than anyone in here, even his terrifying cousin. My brother-in-law is the most dangerous man in Brooklyn. He assesses all of us, pausing on me.

  “Nathan,” he greets me with a shallow nod before taking a seat in the chair behind the desk.

  Silence follows. I glance around at the others. Tension radiates from Jack and Paddy in the stiff way they sit. In the hard look in their eyes. I turn back to Emilio, who’s resting his chin on steepled fingers and studying me.

  “What’s going on?” I ask.

  “We have a situation on our hands that you should probably be made aware of,” he says, finally leaning back, his expression remaining serious. “Eight years ago one of my family members began getting letters and gifts from someone. Innocuous at first, but over the next couple of years they became a bit more…personal, for lack of a better word. They’ve continued since then, and although they arrive with less frequency, the contents have grown more unsettling.”

  Emilio pauses and I’m still confused. “No disrespect, but what does this have to do with me?”

  “It would seem you have a son,” he says. “Congratulations, by the way.”

  “It is yet to be determined if he’s truly mine, but thank you. Still not sure why we’re here and how I’m involved.”

  He stares at me like I should have figured it out, but I merely stare back, patiently waiting. Finally, he continues. “Because that family member is Lucia. And given the nature of the few letters that have continued to be delivered while she’s been gone, something tells me that this person hasn’t given up his obsession with her. Considering your relationship, I thought it best that you be made aware of any potential dangers she—or your son—might be facing.”

  My brain is being slow to process, apparently. “Wait a minute. Are you saying that Lucia has a stalker?”

  “Essentially, yes,” he draws out. “She came to me after I took over the syndicate. It’s one of the reasons she moved to England. I helped her quietly leave the country and had men stationed over there to make sure she’s remained safe. The latter without her knowledge, of course. You know how independent she is. She is also unaware that the letters have continued arriving, however infrequently. Since she had protection, I didn’t think it necessary.”

  “Lucia has a stalker,” I repeat.

  “A note similar to ones she’s received in the past was found this morning. Only this one is different.”

  I don’t like the way he says that. “Different, how?” I ask.

  “Previously, the correspondence has been affectionate. Describing how much he cares for her and that they should be together. That he’ll wait for her forever. This one, however,”—a dangerous glint appears in his eyes—“indicates he’s unhappy with her.”

  “What do you mean by unhappy?”

  His stare grows even more intent as he hesitates. Which Emilio rarely does. “Lucia is unaware of not only this particular letter, but of its contents. I’d like to keep it that way.”

  His delay in answering my question sends warning bells ringing in my head. Whatever is in that note isn’t good. “Emilio,” I growl in warning.

  Pierce shifts, but I don’t take my eyes off my brother-in-law. For once, another emotion overrides my fear of his cousin. Rage is simmering in my veins and growing hotter the longer it takes for Emilio to tell me what’s written in that note.

  “It would seem he thinks that Lucia has defiled herself. That she’s supposed to be his. He’s the one who loves her,” he scoffs, his tone hard with scorn. “He has threatened to find the father of her ‘spawn’ and get rid of him, because no one else will have her.”

  My vision goes black and pure hatred sizzles inside belly, burning a hole through it. “He’s a dead man, whoever he is.”

  Emilio nods as though that’s a given. “Whatever information I have. which isn’t much, is at your disposal. As I said, they’ve been mostly quiet while Lucia has been away, but I don’t think it’s a coincidence that the day after she arrives in town a note shows up.”

  That’s another thing. “You say they’ve all been delivered. Where?”

  “After she moved away, they started arriving at her eldest brother’s house. This one as well. Andrea had been given strict instructions to notify me any time one of them showed up. He called this afternoon.”

  “If this has been going on for eight years, why hasn’t this person been found yet?” I snap, my control barely hanging on by a thread. “You’re the most powerful man in Brooklyn. You should have been using that to find them. What the fuck have you been doing this whole time?”

  Pierce straightens and takes a threatening step forward. “Watch yourself.”

  Jack and Paddy shift in their seat. Tension thickens in the room. Emilio raises a hand in his cousin’s direction.

  “No. He’s entitled to his anger. This is his woman and son we’re discussing.” He turns his gaze back to me and thins his lips. “I’ll allow the disrespect this once, Nathan, but brother-in-law or not, I’d be cautious of how you speak to me in the future.”

  I give a short nod, but won’t apologize.

  “And to answer your question,” Emilio continues, “I have done what I can to find this person, but every lead turns into a dead end. They’re careful and hide their tracks well. With the length of time between deliveries, and Lucia’s continued absence, it’s been nearly impossible to find any solid thread to follow.”

  Maybe you haven’t looked hard enough. I keep my mouth shut, though. Emilio doesn’t make idle threats. Pierce is already on edge and with any perceived disrespect nothing will stop him from shutting it—me—down. Which will no doubt lead to bloodshed with Jack and Paddy’s presence.

  I rise to my feet and stare down at Emilio. My brothers stand as well. “I can guarantee you this. Whoever he is, he’s six feet underground. He just doesn’t know it, yet.”

  Chapter 11

  Lucia

  * * *

  Rory is stunning. She gives a little twirl, the satin skirt of her wedding dress spinning with her and then it floats in mid-air before settling down again.

  “It’s absolutely perfect,” I gush with a hand over my mouth. “Jack is going to lose his mind when he sees you walking down the aisle.”

  She smooths the fabric over her waist and twists a little side to side and then pivots to glance over her shoulder at the reflection in the mirror to study the back. “You don’t think it’s too tight around my hips and butt? Not that there’s anything I can do about it now.”

  “Of course not. It hugs your curves beautifully and in all the right ways. That dress was made specifically for you.”

  Rory turns her head to face me. “Thank you for being here. There’s no one I’d rather have as my maid of honor than you.”

  I sniff back the tears she knows I hate shedding.

  “Bootiful, Auntie Wowy,” Enzo adds his opinion with a happy grin from his seat on the pale pink couch behind us. Like he almost always does, my son quickly warmed up to her as the afternoon wore on.

  Thankfully, no matter how many disagreements she and I have, whether they’re big or small, we always manage to set them aside for more important things.

  “You’re next,” she says with a wink.

  I raise my hands. “Oh, no. I have no intention of getting roped into marrying some poor sap. Do you have any idea how much of a disaster that would be? Besides, I like my independence far too much to become some wifey to any one of the misogynists who populate our organization.”

  Rory plants her fists on her hips. “They aren’t all misogynists. Jack and his brothers aren’t. Neither are Emilio or Pierce or Gio.”

  “Their wives are the lucky ones. We both know that you and those other ladies are outliers. Remember who my brothers are, babe. And the rest of the family.” I shake my head. “No thank you.”

  She steps off the raised dais and closes the distance between us. Her warm hands grip mine. “I just want you to be as happy as I am with someone who loves you as much as Jack loves me. You could have that, you know.”

  “I am happy,” I stress to her. And I am. “I have a career I love and I have Enzo. He’s the only man I need in my life.”

  Her gaze drifts over my shoulder and her eyes widen. “Well, it looks like someone might disagree with you.”

  She drops her arms to her side and gestures with her chin. I turn. Standing just inside the front door of the bridal shop is Nathan. He strides forward with his gaze locked on me. His reddish-brown hair is slightly messy. His cheeks are ruddy. That’s not what has my full attention though. It’s his commanding presence. The air of danger that surrounds him. It’s also the way his tight tee-shirt clings to his broad shoulders. The way his biceps bulge out from under his sleeves.

  My gaze drags itself down his body and travels over the tight fitting jeans that do nothing to hide his…assets. My cheeks heat and a low simmer of awareness tingles in my belly. I curse Mother Nature for creating such perfection. There’s confidence in the way Nathan walks, as though he knows exactly where my thoughts are. I blink and jerk my eyes back up to meet his. He lifts an eyebrow.

  Then, before I’m ready, he’s standing in front of me. Clearly we’re in a contest to discover which of us is the most stubborn. I’m annoyed to admit that in this case, Nathan might just be the winner. My energy to keep fighting him is flagging.

  “Lucia,” he greets me in the way he has of saying my name that makes me go all soft inside. He glances over my shoulder. “You look beautiful, Rory.”

  “Thank you, Nathan,” she murmurs behind me.

  A tiny hand grips mine and I glance down. So does the man whose peppered citrus scent has haunted me for six year.

  “Hi, Enzo. It’s nice to see you again,” he addresses our son with the same smile that beams back at me daily.

  “Hullo.” It’s not said quietly or with any hesitation. In fact, there’s a confidence I’ve never witnessed from him before. I swallow against the emotions welling inside.

  Nathan glances back at me. Gone is the friendly demeanor. Something else has replaced it. I can’t put my finger on what, though. “I was hoping you and I could talk somewhere privately,” he says firmly as though it’s not really an option. “It’s important.”

  Rory steps up to us. “I’ll keep an eye on Enzo for you.”

  I resist the urge to say no. “Thank you.”

  Nathan sweeps his arm out and gestures for me to precede him.

  First, I squat down and brush back Enzo’s hair. “Can you be a good boy and stay with Auntie Rory for a few minutes? I won’t be gone long, I promise.”

  He studies me and then Nathan before returning his gaze to me. “I stay.”

  “Thank you.” I press a kiss to his forehead and rise. “I’ll be right back.”

  Rory takes his hand and I scoot past Nathan, crossing the room to go outside. Just as I reach the door, he moves around me and opens it. I pause and nod my thanks before I proceed. It’s another gorgeous, sunny day with the perfect end of summer temperature. England is my love, but a bit of homesicknesses for Brooklyn rises as I glance around. Traffic darts down the street and pedestrians scurry past us on the sidewalk. It’s all the reminders of my childhood.

  I lean against the brick building and wait for whatever Nathan has to say. My spine steels, expecting the same argument we’ve had anytime we’re around each other. He takes in our surroundings, an alert watchfulness in his gaze as though he’s assessing the area. I straighten. This is something more than being about Enzo or me.

  “What’s wrong?” I ask.

  Finally, Nathan turns to me. His expression is hard and dangerous. “Tell me about the letters.”

  My whole body jerks. “How do you know about them?”

  “Just tell me, Lucia.”

  It’s clear from his intent stare he won’t let this go either.

  “They started seven, eight years ago. Random notes left on my windshield. Flowers or a box of chocolates delivered to my job. A stuffed animal on my doorstep. Nothing sinister. But then the notes grew more graphic.” I shudder. “I went to Sal, Emilio’s father, but he blew me off. This was right before Emilio returned.”

  Salvatore Ricci was old-school syndicate. The kind of leader who believed women were meant to be seen and not heard. That a woman’s place was behind her man, not beside him. I never wished him dead, but his son is a far better head of the organization than Sal ever was.