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“I’ll help,” Montrell offered.
Vespa hesitated but then nodded, bumping her good shoulder against his lightly. “Yeah. Okay,” she said, and they trailed out of the room together.
Chapter 22
Antonio leaned against the wall in the stairwell, staring down at his phone. All of his exchanged texts with Vespa fit on one damn screen. It shouldn’t have bothered him so much that she hadn’t repeated the last one, but it did.
He’d told Vespa she was safe on the Di Salvo estate the night before. If he believed that, why was he still watching his brother’s bedroom? Giovanni would be pissed if he caught him out in the stairwell.
Antonio let his head fall back as the hour creeped closer to dawn.
Before the windows lightened, the door to their room cracked open. Nera slipped into the hallway alone.
It wasn’t the first time she’d left his brother sleeping in bed. Nera woke up early to bake, the habit too ingrained in her to break.
That Tommaso wasn’t clambering up the stairs to meet her caused a scowl to settle on Antonio’s face. Tommaso usually relieved either him or Enzo in the morning. His nerves skittered as Nera found him in the stairwell.
She didn’t look at all surprised. “Giovanni won’t be happy,” she said.
Antonio shrugged, finally able to force his smile. “A little frustration is good for him. You’ve made him so damn giddy all the time, he’s due for something different.”
A flush darkened her cheeks in the dim lighting. Her eyes struggled to focus on him as they usually did in the morning. The comments about her poor eyesight were accurate, but if one of their men said something aloud again, Antonio would react the same way. It wasn’t about whether they were correct. It was about them respecting her.
Nera deserved all the respect in the world. That he hadn’t always felt that way didn’t matter.
He pushed off the wall. “Let’s wake up that lousy dad of yours.”
“I asked Tommaso to leave me with you,” Nera said. She started down the stairs. “Help me in the kitchen?” she called back.
It wasn’t really a question. Antonio wouldn’t leave her to wander alone. His eyes searched the corners, but the house was as quiet as usual for that time of day. Nera didn’t turn on the kitchen lights. Giovanni had replaced them with special ones that made things easier on her, but she still preferred to start the day in the dark.
“I’m injured, Nera,” Antonio reminded her as she started setting out her bowls and other kitchen paraphernalia. “Tommaso is a better choice.”
Nera snorted. “Like you’d let anything hold you back.” She reached for the banana that had become her normal morning breakfast ever since she’d become pregnant, peeling and making quick work of it. “Besides, I did things one-handed well enough while I was injured. I’m sure you’ll do even better. Or at least try to.”
He leaned on the counter next to her. “You shouldn’t be so sure. I failed you in the kitchen once.”
Her gaze moved to stare at a spot on the kitchen tiles, the one where a body had once lain. “Everyone can be surprised, Antonio. There are no guarantees in this world.” She looked back at him. “You hovering outside of our bedroom isn’t a guarantee.”
“No.” He fiddled with one of the mixing bowls. “But I wasn’t going to sleep anyway. Speaking of sleeping, shouldn’t you be needing more of it now?” His eyes dropped to her stomach. The bump was noticeable.
“Not you too. Giovanni asked me to begin taking afternoon rests.” She blew out a breath as she crossed to the fridge for more ingredients. “That I’m actually napping during them is frustrating, but I’m accepting it.” Her gaze leveled on him as she turned with her arms full. “Stop focusing on me. I wanted to talk about you.”
“Not you too,” Antonio said, purposely repeating her own words.
Nera lifted her eyebrows.
“Enzo and Giovanni already played matchmaker over me taking a bullet for Vespa.” The thought of what could have happened still made his fingers tense. “I like her. Does it have to mean more than that?”
“Are you interested in marriage at all, Antonio?” Nera asked.
Antonio’s jaw hardened, but he hid it behind a smile. “You’re already taken, Nera,” he teased, trying to deflect.
She didn’t laugh like he expected her to, but instead studied the muscle in his jaw ticking away. “That’s what I thought,” she murmured. “Barone mentioned an offer, and I was surprised.”
“He shouldn’t have mentioned it. I already turned him down. An arranged marriage doesn’t interest me.”
“But you pushed Giovanni toward one at one point, didn’t you?” Nera asked.
