Page 113 of Lupo

That's all I can do now. Wait and hope and pray that the man I—that the man we've both fallen in love with—survives long enough to come back to us.

"Mama?" Elena's voice is small. "Can you tell me a story? About Daddy and the dragon?"

"Of course, baby."

I tell her a story. About a brave knight who went to fight a dragon. About a princess and her daughter who waited in a castle for him to return. About how he promised to come back, no matter how hard the battle was.

I tell her a story with a happy ending.

And I pray with everything I have that it comes true.

That night, after Elena is asleep, I sit on the porch with the burner phone in my hands. I turn it on, just to see if there's anything—a message, a missed call, anything.

But the screen is blank. Just a cheap phone with one number programmed in. His number.

I turn it off and slip it back in my pocket.

One month.

I can survive that.

We both can.

I just hope he can too.

Chapter 31: Lupo

The villa is quiet.

Too quiet.

I stand at the floor-to-ceiling windows in what Ciro tells me is my study, looking out at the bay. The view is spectacular: all of Naples spread out below, the water glittering in the afternoon sun, Vesuvius rising in the distance.

Beautiful. Expensive. Empty.

Behind me, the room is all dark wood and leather, shelves lined with books I don't remember reading. There's expensive scotch in a crystal decanter. Art on the walls that Ciro says is worth a fortune.

I built all of this. Clawed my way up from nothing to own a villa on the hills, to command respect and fear, to have power and money and everything that's supposed to matter.

And all I can think about is a three-and-a-half-year-old girl asking when Daddy is coming home.

"Boss?" Ciro's voice from the doorway. "The maps are ready. We should go over the restaurant layout again."

"In a minute." I don't turn around. "Do you ever use the pool?"

There's a pause. "The pool?"

"Yeah. When you're here. Do you swim in the pool?"

Ciro laughs, actually laughs. "No, boss. That's your pool. I'm not here to swim."

"Right." I finally turn to look at him. "Did I? Use it?"

"Sometimes. Usually alone. Late at night." He studies me. "Why are you asking about the pool?"

"Just wondering." But that's not entirely true. I'm wondering if Elena knows how to swim. Wondering if Isabella ever took her to a lake or a community pool. Wondering if she's afraid of water or if she'd love it.

And I'm thinking that if or when I bring them here, I'll need to teach her. Make sure she knows how to swim before she's anywhere near that pool. It's deep. Dangerous for a child who doesn't know what she's doing.