Page 50 of Mafia Scars

Or maybe that was how I perceived it.

The air smelled different though. Cleaner, clearer.

My heart pinched as unexpected warmth filled me. The kind of warmth I imagined when people spoke about coming home.

I felt that, and it was weird. Weird coming back to the place I fled when I was seventeen.

At twenty-eight years old, I’d had so much happen to me, and coming back felt like finding refuge. Which I suppose I was.

A limo picked us up when we arrived. It was late, super late, like early in the morning.

I glanced at the clock display ahead of us and saw it was nearly two a.m.

My mind ran on Gigi, and I prayed she’d be okay. I’d have to call her.

I couldn’t believe that I didn’t get to say goodbye to her or speak to her properly. I knew Luc would have people looking after her, but in all honesty, I would even ask Sinclaire to stop by the house to see how she was doing.

Despite what had happened between us, I still trusted him, and I knew that although he said he was done with me, he’d help me if I needed it.

It didn’t take long with the clear roads for us to get to our destination.

Somehow, I thought we’d be going to my house—my father’s house.

This wasn’t his place though.

It was dark, but I could see the vast expanse of the stately home that came into my view.

A massive set of gates like the one’s at my father’s house opened up for us to enter.

Lights lit up as we drove along the driveway, illuminating the premises. My eyes were stuck on the size of the property and the beauty I could see all around, like a fairytale. The moon beamed down, gracing the fantasy-like architecture that reminded me of the designs I’d seen in Europe.

I’d managed to do a tour of some old cities once, years back. Best holiday ever. I went to Italy, Spain, Switzerland, Poland, and Bulgaria.

This place seemed to hold a mix of the creativity I’d seen there.

“Who lives here?” I asked Claudius, who’d been quietly resting next to me with his head back against the seat and legs up on the seats in front of us.

“My brother and I. Welcome to our bachelor pad.”

“Pad?” I looked at him and squinted. This was no pad. It was a mansion on an estate.

Most guys thought of a pad as a condo, or an apartment. Not a full-on house that looked big enough to fit a small country. Okay, maybe that was an exaggeration. It was just big,big.

“This is how we roll. Plus size with everything.”

“It’s beautiful.”

He answered me with a grin.

When we got out of the car, I was tempted to go exploring. The place had that feel about it that sucked you in and made you want to see more. Like my family’s summer home in Italy. I spent many days there roaming the grounds and going on all sorts of childhood adventures.

The temptation was great but not stronger than what fueled me to see Luc.

My heart. My heart rejoiced at the fact that we’d made it this far and beat faster at the anticipation of seeing him.

The minute we went inside the house, I heard footsteps rushing toward us.

The sound came from up the wide grand stairs that flowed down toward us in the passageway.