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However close or not close Antonio is or was to Marcello, it doesn't kill his appetite. He takes me downstairs to eat breakfast in thebreakfast room—I didn't know this room was part of the house. It's a beautiful bay window room with a view of the spectacular backyard I've seen from the balcony.

Dishes covered with gleaming silver cloches line the table. The scent of fresh coffee and something decadent lingers in the air. Curiously, I lift lids, first one, then another. Scrambled eggs, eggs over medium, pancakes…

"Coffee?" Antonio asked, filling a cup.

Shit. I really need to find out if I have a little jellybean inside me or not. "Uhm, I think I'll stick to orange juice. Get my stomach settled and all that."

The smile I send his way must not be very convincing, because his eyes narrow at me. "I'm fine. Really, either nerves or a stomach bug. Nothing serious. There, see, I'm eating."

I'm not very hungry, but the last lid I open holds an assortment of various breads. I grab a croissant and bite into it. "Hmm. Yummy." I exaggerate.

He grunts and pulls out a chair for me. "Sit."

"So bossy." I grin up at him.

"You don't know the half of it yet, wife," he retorts, and his lips spread into a wide smile when he says the last word.

"I love you, Mr. DeLuna."

"Not as much as I love you, Mrs. DeLuna." He kisses the top of my nose before he slides into a seat next to me, from where he helps himself to a breakfast of kings.

"Where's Gigi?" I look around.

"Sleeping, she's not much of a breakfast person."

"So, who is all this food for then?"

He points from me to him with a buttered butter knife.

"That seems like an awful waste."

He shrugs. "The guards will get their share. Trust me."

That makes me feel a little better. It also helps me refrain from trying every dish of this delicious assortment. If this is a daily occurrence, I'll have plenty of time to taste them all. Otherwise, I'll end up as round as some of these rolls. Well, I might anyway…

Alright, Scarlet. Think of something else.There is something I've actually been wondering for a while.

Antonio watches me over his buttered roll, which he has filled with jelly. "Spit it out, what's on your mind?"

"Well, I've been wondering about something," I hedge.

"No secrets between us, remember?"

Okay, I'll dive right in then; nobody has ever accused me of being diplomatic, and new Scarlet apparently is even more direct. "Why did Carlos kill your dad?"

He stops his bread on its way to his lips and studies me for a moment. Then he answers, "Because Edoardo ordered him to."

I reach over to take his hand. "I'm so sorry."

But I'm still confused. "I thought in your world, you handled things differently than in thenormalworld. I would have thought you would have…" I trail off, not wanting to be rude or impolite, if either of those words can even apply in the mafia.

He studies me thoughtfully for a moment longer than necessary before he wipes his lips with his napkin. "Ordered him killed?"

I nod, feeling guilty for prying, assuming, being noisy; take your pick.

I'm still holding his hand, and he squeezes mine. "Normally, I would have, but right now, our Capo dei Capi, the boss’s boss,"his voice is filled with venom, making it easy to gather that he's not a big fan of the man, "is not like any we’ve had before. He's not an honorable man. In fact, he wants me to kill Carlos for what he's done so he can make an example out of me, have me neutralized, and put someone in my spot who is more… cooperative."

My eyes widen as the full weight of what he's telling me settles in. "The Capo dei Capi wants you dead? Why?"