Code of Honor (Spontagio Family 1)

“I swear I didn’t know who she was in the beginning,” he says, his voice cracking. “I was given a job, so I did it. When I realized, I tried to warn you that you were in over your head.”

“I appreciate you risking your own life to try to warn me,” I say. “I’m just glad this is over.”

Benito lets out a strangled laugh. “You think it’s over? It’s never over, Pietro. This won’t end until you stop looking. You think this ends with him?” he asks, jerking his head toward where Mark is disposing of the body. “Andreas is nothing compared to Gambero. You came close to losing everything tonight. Next time you might not be so lucky.”

I back away, his words driving through me.

He’s right. I was lucky tonight. Next time I might not be.

Chapter 29

Lucy

Stirring in my bed, I open my eyes. It takes me a moment to remember where I am and what happened. The familiarity of being back at home in Chicago is comforting, but all I really want is Pietro. Easing myself onto my side, I lie there, the events of the last forty-eight hours running through my mind. I wince, the pain in my side a stark reminder of how close I came to being seriously hurt.

The pain I could handle, it was the memory of my father going off at Pietro that hurt the most. I’d never seen my dad so angry in all my life and while it was easy for me to be defiant and defend our relationship, I know my father’s disappointment in Pietro hurt him deeply.

My phone flashes on my nightstand. Gingerly, I lean over and retrieve it. I have several messages from Pietro waiting for me.

Pietro: I’m so sorry I let you down. Call me when you can.

Pietro: I feel terrible about what happened and I don’t know how to fix this.

Pietro: Call me, Luce. We need to talk.

I text him back, trying my best to convey that I’m not angry, nor do I blame him. Why would I? This was payback for something my father did. It had nothing to do with Pietro. In my eyes, nothing has changed. I still love him and I know he loves me. That’s the most important thing, right?

Me: I’m not angry with you, Pietro. This wasn’t your fault. Where are you?

Pietro: At home in Chicago.

Me: Come see me later. I’ll text you when it’s a good time.

In his usual dramatic attitude, Dad had refused to let Pietro stay here. I was determined to talk some sense into him today. He has to realize that he can’t control my life.

Easing myself out of bed, I throw my robe over my nightgown and venture out. As I track down the stairs, I listen for signs that he’s home. All I can hear is the soft humming from our housekeeper, Alsia, as she dusts the living room.

“You’re up.”

I jump, my hand flying to my chest to comfort my pounding heart. Dad exits his office and stands in front of me, frowning.

“Jesus, you scared me,” I gasp.

“Language, Lucia,” he chastises. “Come into the kitchen and we’ll have Marcel make you something.”

“I’m not hungry—”

“Nonsense!” he declares, his booming voice echoing through the high ceilings. “You will eat, because you need your strength.”

“How about I decide what I do and do not need?” I suggest, an icy tone to my voice.

He sighs and clasps his hands together.

“I take it this is about Pietro? He took advantage of you, Lucia. That’s no way for a man to act.”

“He didn’t take advantage of me, Father. We’ve been in a consensual relationship for weeks. We love each other.”

“You’re too young to know what love is.”