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“No.”

“I’m just kidding, I know it’s Hardwell.” She shrugs haughtily.

How did she know that?I scan the console to make sure it’s not listed anywhere. It’s not.

“You look surprised?” She smirks.

“I am.”

“My friend, Jacky, goes to all these ridiculous festivals, so when we’re working late, we’re forced to suffer her music rotations sometimes. I hated it at first.Dsh! Dsh! Dsh!”She pumps her fist. “After getting tortured for weeks on end? I concede to my Stockholm syndrome – it’s alright.”

“Jacky, huh? Maybe you should hook me up with her,” I say.

“Sure. Jacky’s a dude.”

My face grows hot.

“Asshole.” She laughs and points at me. “She’s actually a beautifully freckled flowerchild. But I had you going for a second. Serves you right for trying to scam on your wife-to-be.”

“And Gil? You going to pretend you don’t have a thing for him?” I side-eye her. “Hypocrite.”

“I don’t! Not my type.”

“What do you mean not your type? He’s got the perfect name for a boring-ass lawyer.”

We bicker for another twenty minutes until we finally reach my house. The driveway is a cobblestone cul-de-sac with landscaped bushes in the center. I whip to the front and shove the car in park. Goddamn, I remember her being quiet as a mouse whenever me and Pop visited in my teenage years. I never could’ve imagined a damn firecracker about to explode. Not the big M-80 types, but those little annoying jumping jacks bouncing around everywhere.

Pain in my ass.

While the ‘smart’ lawyer has been playing angry girlfriend for the past half hour, I’ve been scheming as to what the Lucrazi’s next move will be when they realize Sonny is missing.

They’re going to look to Rocco’s closest mobster ties – which, thankfully, is almost all the families. But none of them would be crazy enough to start a war. The firepower of the Barone-Lucrazi alliance alone is enough to make a small army shake in their boots. My father is a fucking crazy person for taking this on. And if I’m caught with Rocco’s daughter…pfft. The don might turn his back on us. No protection against two families?

I better keep her under the radar when we’re together.

“C’mon.” I snap my fingers, watching her gaze up at my two-story home. Italian marble columns, stone brick archways. Is she impressed yet? Or is she just sizing up her new living quarters?

“The windows look pristine. I’m shocked.” She folds her arms.

“What did you expect?”

She giggles, running her French-manicured fingertips over the marble leading to the front door. “I’ll hold my tongue.”

“Say it,” I demand.

“No. You’re sensitive and moody. When you’re off your period, maybe.”

I shake my head as I get my keys out. The door may look like a fresh-wood design, but it’s coated in three layers of steel, and the locks are heavy duty. Security and privacy are the number one priority in my line of work.

“Wow.” She looks around. “No glitter and stripper juice splashed everywhere? A nicely kept fireplace. Oh, this couch… not a crumb on it. You’re giving serial killer vib—whoops.”

The hair on the back of my neck prickles. I don’t like being called out… and she’s done it like three times at this point.

“Are you going to be a problem?” I point my finger in her face, eyes holding hers. It’s so clear that her mind is churningwith held-back quips. Show me you can restrain yourself, woman.

She shakes her head with a slight frown.

I grunt. There’s that goddamn guilt again. Like I shouted at a child or something. “C’mon.”