Page 33 of The Mafia’s Girlfriend

“I knew the moment you left that you wound up at the Tropican. They alerted me.”

Dammit. That figured. Then again, he hadn’t bothered to order me home until now. If that’s what this call is about.

“But I didn’t think that you would’ve been at the same fucking place where the Marcheses were attacked.”

“They were attacked?” I tried to keep the sarcasm out of my tone. They weren’t attacked. Luke merely intervened and fought to defend me when Antonio’s new recruits thought they could share me.

“You see anything?”

I rolled my eyes. Oh, I saw it all. But I wasn’t saying a single word. “Me?”

“You stupid bitch.” He growled, frustrated. “Like you’d notice anything. Stuck in your little fantasy world all the time.”

What the hell? I loathed it when he made me out to be some brainless twit. He called my interest in nursing a joke. A stupid pastime and worthless hobby.

“Vincent and Antonio aren’t happy.”

I can’t imagine they would be. If that guy Luke beat so soundly was supposed to be some sort of an elite fighter, he sure proved them otherwise. Luke was supposed to be an ordinary stranger.

“They’re accusing Marlo Rossini of setting up one of their fighters to go after theirs.”

I furrowed my brow, considering this carefully. Marlo Rossini? I hadn’t heard his name in a while. The old boss was halfway to the grave according to the rumors I’d heard over the last few years. All three of the families—the Rossini, Giordino, and Marchese—ruled supreme in this area of Florida, but no one was ever close with Marlo.

“You see anyone else around there? Any Rossinis?”

I huffed a single laugh. “I don’t even know any Rossinis.” No one did. They were a secretive group, unlike the Marcheses, who liked to remind everyone of how powerful they were. They got high on others’ fear and respect. Power hungry like no other.

He was after information about that Marchese man who was taken down. I could fill in the blanks, but I wouldn’t ever explain that Luke was the one who’d fought that man.

I have to talk to him.

My father didn’t order me home. He’d known where I was all along, but he wasn’t going to tell me to come home or else. Until it was time for my wedding, it seemed he preferred me to be out of sight and not aggravating him.

After I disconnected the call, I grabbed my coverup and set out to find Luke.

I’d been keeping tabs on him so well now that I knew when his usual daytime shift was done. And I was in luck. My hustle to reach the simpler building that looked like an employee facility showed him walking out with another man. I recognized him as the first man who showed up when I complained about that faulty lock.

“Evening, miss.”

I acknowledged the Black man with a nod but focused on Luke. “Hi.”

He rolled his eyes. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Randy.”

“Yeah.” He did a handshake, clap on the back thing, volleying his gaze between me and his friend. He was curious, and confused, which had me wondering if Luke didn’t talk about me with him.

Then he left. Without replying to me, without a look my way, Luke continued walking away.

“Luke?”

Nothing. He didn’t turn back to me, striding away.

I sighed, annoyed and slightly worried that he’d really meant it, that he wanted me to go away.

Then why go to such extremes to defend me? It had to signify something. He had to care at least a little bit.

The next time, I tried to find him and tag along until I could get him alone.

By the third day after my call with my dad, I improved my technique, waiting for him in the staff breakroom I had no business being in. Then standing out my condo at night, waiting for him to walk by.