Page 18 of Savage Union (Rosso Mafia #1)

"I make it my business to know everything about you, Caterina.

" He says it so matter-of-factly that a chill runs down my spine.

"Your favorite color is deep green, not the neon monstrosities you selected today.

You prefer classic silhouettes with modern details.

And you have a weakness for good leather goods, particularly boots. "

The accuracy of his assessment is disturbing. "Have you been stalking me?"

"Research," he corrects. "Necessary when arranging a suitable partnership."

"There's nothing suitable about this partnership," I shoot back. "And your 'research' is creepy, not impressive."

"Nevertheless." He adjusts his position slightly, his knee almost but not quite touching mine. "The delivery van will arrive at the penthouse within the hour. Everything you purchased will be there, as requested."

This surprises me. "You're not canceling the order?"

"No." His expression remains unreadable. "But there will be consequences for your actions today."

"Of course there will." I can't keep the bitterness from my voice. "There always are with you."

"Actions and consequences, bambola . That's how the world works." His tone is almost gentle, which somehow makes it worse. "You made choices today. Now you'll live with the results."

"What are you going to do? Lock me up again? Take away my phone privileges?" I try for sarcasm, but there's real fear underneath. The phone in my purse feels suddenly heavier—what if he searches me and finds Elena's device?

"Nothing so crude." He turns his attention to the passing scenery, effectively dismissing the topic. "We'll discuss it when we get home."

The rest of the ride passes in silence. I watch Vito from the corner of my eye, trying to gauge his mood, but his expression gives nothing away.

The controlled facade never slips, not even when his phone buzzes and he reads what appears to be a concerning message.

He simply tucks the device away and continues staring out the window, lost in thought.

By the time we reach the penthouse, my nerves are frayed from the tension. I've spent the entire ride imagining increasingly dire "consequences" while simultaneously trying to figure out how I'll ever get privacy to use Elena's phone.

The elevator ride up is equally silent. Vito stands on the opposite side, his posture relaxed but alert, like a predator at rest but still dangerous. When the doors open to the penthouse, he gestures for me to exit first.

"I have business to attend to," he says as we step into the foyer. "I'll be in my office for the next hour. After that, we'll discuss today's events."

The unexpected reprieve catches me off guard. "Okay."

He studies me for a moment longer, something unreadable in his eyes. "The items you purchased will be here soon. You may arrange them however you wish in your room—the one you previously occupied, not our bedroom."

"Our bedroom?" I repeat, the phrase strange on my tongue.

"Yes." He loosens his tie slightly. "Dinner is at eight. Don't be late."

With that, he walks away, leaving me standing in the foyer with my purse clutched tightly against my side. An hour. I have an hour alone with Elena's phone, an unexpected gift I hadn't dared hope for.

I hurry to my old room, locking the door behind me before pulling out the phone with trembling hands. The screen lights up, showing several missed calls and texts from "Mickey C"—Liam's father. My stomach drops. If Mickey Costello is trying to reach Elena, something serious must be happening.

I bypass those notifications and open a new message, typing Liam's number from memory.

My fingers hover over the keyboard as I consider what to say.

How do you explain to a man that you made a deal to marry him in exchange for killing your father, only to end up engaged to the man who killed your father instead?

Taking a deep breath, I start typing:

Liam, it's Caterina Gallo. I'm using my cousin's phone. I need to explain what happened. Vito Rosso moved against my father before your plan could be executed. Now I'm being forced to marry him. This wasn't my choice. I didn't betray our arrangement.

I pause, considering my next words carefully.

I'm being watched constantly. This may be my only chance to contact you. Whatever you've heard about me and Vito, it's not what it seems. I'm a prisoner, not a willing bride.

Another pause. What am I asking for, exactly? Rescue? Forgiveness? Understanding?

I don't know what your father is planning, but please tell him I didn't choose this. I'll find a way to contact you again when I can. Be careful—Vito knows someone is moving against him, even if he doesn't know who yet.

I read over the message twice, wondering if I'm making things better or worse. But I have to try. The Irish need to understand I didn't double-cross them. I hit send before I can second-guess myself further.

The message shows as delivered. I stare at the screen, willing a response to appear, but nothing comes.

My heart races as I check the time—forty-five minutes until Vito expects to "discuss" my shopping spree.

I need to delete any evidence of my communication and return the phone to its original state.

I systematically clear the message history, cache, and make sure there's no trace of my activity before setting the phone aside. Just as I finish, there's a knock at the door that nearly makes me jump out of my skin.

"Yes?" My voice sounds strained even to my own ears.

"Delivery for you, Miss." It's Antonia, her voice muffled through the door.

The purchases. Of course.

"Just a minute." I quickly tuck Elena's phone in the bottom of my purse and smooth my hair before opening the door.

Antonia stands with two uniformed delivery men behind her, each carrying multiple garment bags and boxes. Behind them, I can see more waiting in the hallway.

"Where would you like these, Miss?" one of the men asks.

"In here is fine." I step back, watching as they begin bringing in my extravagant haul.

It takes nearly fifteen minutes for everything to be brought in, the pile growing until it fills a significant portion of the spacious room. As the last box is set down, I hear footsteps in the hallway—measured, deliberate steps that I instantly recognize.

Vito appears in the doorway, surveying the mountain of merchandise with an expression that might almost be amusement if it weren't so cold.

"Satisfied?" he asks.

I lift my chin. "Very."

His eyes sweep the room once more before settling on me. "Enjoy your organizing, Caterina. I'll see you at dinner."

He turns to leave, then pauses. "Oh, and one more thing."

"Yes?"

"I hope whoever you were texting was worth the risk." His eyes flick meaningfully to my purse, where Elena's phone is hidden. "Actions and consequences, remember?"

My blood turns to ice as he walks away, his footsteps echoing down the hallway.

He knows. Somehow, he knows.

And now I wait for the consequences to fall.