Page 112 of My Dark Ever After

I swallowed thickly and glanced up to find his countenance was one of real sorrow.

“Thank you,” I said. “But how did you come to find this? I thought they’d all been stolen when the Venetian broke into my apartment.”

“The rest were,” he agreed with an easy shrug, dropping the postcard onto the desk and putting his hands in his pockets to rock back on his heels. It was a boyish gesture to match the slightly chagrined expression on his face. “I’m afraid I took that when I went looking into you after we met at Fattoria Casa Luna.”

“Looking into me?”

“You have to understand, there have been many women in Raffa’s life who sought to use him for their own designs. Then there you were, this American girl he ran into, suddenly living in his palazzo? Wearing designer clothes he bought for you and hanging out with his inner circle? It was alarming.”

“So ... you looked into me,” I repeated. “You broke into my apartment and spied on me?”

He winced. “I didn’tspy. But I had to check to make sure you were who you said you were. It’s part of my job.”

“Isn’t Martina his consigliere?” I asked.

“Yes,” he said with a wan smile. “And Renzo is his underboss. Ludo is his hacker, and Carmine is his second at Lupo Nero and helps to run the other companies.”

“And you look into suspicious people?”

Raffa hadn’t given Leo a title.

Leo? He does everything I need him to do, sometimes before I can even ask it of him.

“That and whatever else needs doing,” he agreed. “I’m sorry for it, but it had to be done. Raffa protects us all, and in turn, I must protect Raffa.”

There was something about the way he said it, defensive almost, aggressive definitely. Like his ability to protect had come into question, and he was determined to prove his worth.

“I want to protect him too,” I said calmly, because I understood that looking into me had been the smart thing to do. “Though, obviously, you missed my connection to the Pietra clan. That would have been helpful to know.”

He blinked at me, and his voice was very mild when he said, “Yes, it would have been. Though computer wiz Ludo didn’t find it either, so I won’t castigate myself too much.”

I nodded, continuing to stare at him, because despite his open expression, I found him the hardest to read of all Raffa’s mafiosi.

“Here,” he said, pushing the postcard closer to me with his pinky. “You should have it back. I’m sorry I can’t do more.”

Without another word, he strode toward the door and back down the hall.

It took me a moment to wonder what more he could have done beyond giving me back my unsent letter to Gemma.

Chapter Twenty-Four

Raffa

I waited for Guinevere in the lobby of the Florentine palazzo, studying the bowl of red flowers on the entryway table but remembering the black chrysanthemums that had been placed there during the San Lorenzo celebration in the summer.

The night everything had gone to hell, and the last time Guinevere and I had occupied this space together.

It was amazing what a difference three months could make.

She had fled the country and come back, my reluctant prisoner for her own safety, and now a blue-blooded Mafia princess in her own right, ready to take my side as my queen.

It was too good to be true for a man like me.

What had I done in all my years to deserve a woman who saw my darkness and understood its necessity just as much as she saw my light and nurtured it?

She was not the yin to my yang or the white to my black, nothing so stark and contrary.

There was no end or beginning to our connection, but a gradation from self to self, a blurring of lines between our souls that perfectlyharmonized the dark she’d yearned for in her own life with the light I’d needed in my own.