Code of Honor (Spontagio Family 1)

“A few times now I’ve just felt like I’m being watched. I’m not stupid enough to think he’d let me come here without some kind of security, but it makes me nervous not knowing if I should be concerned or not…” Her voice trails off. “Never mind. You don’t have to answer. I know Dad has this thing over you.”

“Oh, he does, does he?” I ask, amused.

“Yes, I mean”—she laughs—“God, that came out so wrong. I just meant that I know how much you feel like you owe him. These are questions I should be asking him, not you.”

She starts talking about the café down the street from her apartment and how she plans to start living off their double skinny decaf mochas. I let the conversation move on, glad I don’t have to flat-out lie to her again. I show interest in what she’s saying, pretending I hadn’t been cowering in the bathroom of the café as she drank her first double skinny decaf mocha. I feel like such a creep.

“I wish Bell could come to New York for a few days. I miss not having anyone to talk to.”

“Ask her?” I suggest.

“I have. She can’t get out of work.”

“I could come for a few days.” The words fly out of my mouth before I can stop them. What the fuck am I doing? Before I can even process my ridiculous lapse of control she responds.

“You’d do that for me?” Her voice is so small and full of gratitude I can’t possibly renege on my offer now.

“I’d do anything for you,” I mutter, closing my eyes.

My hand rises to my forehead and I rub it gently. This could be a complete mess. What the hell am I going to say to Giovanni? I have to spin this in such a way that it looks like I’m doing this for him. Maybe if I say she’s on the verge of breaking? I begin to calm down as I realize I’m making this into a much bigger deal than it needs to be.

“I have two days off after Saturday’s session. More if I don’t get past this week,” she adds with a bitter laugh.

“Stop it, Luce. You’ll make the cut. Okay, it’s settled. I’ll be over Saturday when you’re done. I’ll meet you at your apartment.”

“Okay,” she says, sounding happier already. “I’m excited to see you again. I know it’s only been a month, but it feels like forever.”

“Me too, Luce.”

—

As excited as I am, I’m also nervous about seeing her. Even though we claimed our relationship was back to strictly friendship, I have no idea if that would change once we were face-to-face. I’m still in love with her. Deciding not to act on that doesn’t change the facts.

I’m also nervous about fucking up this whole arrangement of me watching out for her. All I have to do is say one wrong thing, and if she picks up on it, then it’s over. What is Giovanni going to think about me pretending to travel over to see her? I decide to call him now. I need to tell him before Lucy does.

“Pietro,” he announces when he answers his phone. “How nice to hear from you. Is everything okay?”

“Yeah, everything is fine,” I assure him, running my hand through my thick curly hair. “Listen, I’m going to see Lucy for a few days this week.”

“You’re going to see her? What do you mean you’re going to see her,” he demands. “You see her every day, Pietro. What are you trying to tell me?”

“She called me,” I say simply. “She’s a bit lonely. She asked me if I could come visit her. I said I would. She would’ve asked Bella, but she’s busy with some guy,” I add, knowing the mention of Bella will instantly make me more appealing.

“Hmph. She never mentioned anything to me about being lonely. Maybe I should visit her?” he wonders.

“No. That would be a bad idea,” I say, laughing. I could just imagine Lucy’s reaction if her father came to visit instead of me. “I think she needs a friend. You being there would just add extra pressure on her. I think she just needs a way to unwind.”

As soon as I say it, I regret my choice of words.

“You better not be her way of unwinding, Pietro. I’ve killed men for less, you know.” he growls.

I close my eyes and rub my forehead.

“That’s not what I meant. And you know we’re just friends. We’re family, for God’s sake.”

“Yes,” he agrees. “She is like your sister.”

I cringe at his phrasing, but I don’t dare speak up. If that’s what he needs to think, then I’m okay with it.