Page 116 of Sinful Hearts

I turn my attention back to her. “She’s a pain in my ass.”

“Andre said the same about me plenty of times.” She laughs around a sigh. “You wouldn’t have brought her here if you didn’t trust and like her.”

I flex my fingers and straighten my watch. “You needed me, and I didn’t want to waste my time figuring out what to do with her. So, I made the choice to bring her. I just pray it wasn’t a mistake.” I take a slow sip of the fancy water that Angelica said was filtered through pixie dust or some shit. “Who put a bullet in Andre?”

“He won’t tell me.” She rolls her eyes. “I’m sure he pissed someone off.”

“I wish you hadn’t married into this world. It puts you in too much danger.”

“Andre and his family would take a bullet for me without blinking. They’re like the Lombardis on steroids when it comes to bloodshed over people they love.”

“His father is a don. That makes your life more in danger than it was, being the daughter of a capo.”

She holds up a finger. “Ormore protected.” She perks up. “I like to look on the bright side of things, dear brother.”

“At least Andre isn’t next in line to be the boss.”

Andre is the youngest, and his brother, Gabriele, is set to be the boss when his father either steps down or dies.

While I’ve only met Gabriele once, he’s the perfect candidate to take over. Their father, Constantino, has taught him well. He’ll continue to run a great empire.

“Just stay safe, okay?” I chug the remainder of my water and toss the bottle into the recycling bin.

“Are you going home today?” she asks around a long yawn.

“Yeah. Gabriele said we can use the jet again.”

“I love that jet,” she says around a sigh before yawning again.

As much as I’d rather stay here and spend time with her, I need to get back to New York and find out who tried to kill me and my wife.

The list of possible suspects who’d want me dead is long.

Could be the Russians, a rival family, or some entitled prick who lost money at the poker table. Hell, it could be all of the above.

If I had to place my chips, I’d stack them against the Russians.

Whoever it is, they won’t live to try again.

“Why don’tthe Lombardis own a private jet?” Liliya asks while we’re in the air.

It’s all she’s done—ask questions.

One after the other, over and over again.

I’m half tempted to find a parachute in here, strap it to her back, and tell her we’re skydiving back to New York.

“Because they’re expensive as hell,” I reply.

“Tell them they need to make more money then.” She motions toward the jet. “Clearly, Andre’s family has it figured out. Maybe you should switch sides. Andre’s Mafia fam looks like they pay better.”

I massage my temples, a headache pounding so hard that my ears ring. “Let’s play a game.”

“Monopoly?”

“No, it’s called Liliya Goes Five Minutes Without Asking a Question.”

She tilts her head to the side, thinking. “Best I can do is, Liliya Goes Three Minutes Without Asking a Question.”