Page 13 of Stained Honor

The irritated sarcasm in his voice makes me laugh, and for the first time in an entire month, a real smile spreads across my face. When he sees it, the hardness in his eyes softens.

When the waitress brings our mojitos, Giorgio takes a sip and stretches one of his long legs out beside the table so he can sit more comfortably.

“Where the hell did this even come from?” he asks.

I shrug lightly. “You, Lorenzo, Maxim, and Brando are the only ones who know what I did. And except for you, who’s basically forced to babysit me, none of them even said goodbye before I left. Not even Brando.”

I take a sip of my drink before continuing quietly, “No matter what, I still got three of your men killed.”

One corner of Giorgio’s mouth lifts while his eyes narrow slightly.

“First of all, the three guys you got killed weren’t innocent fucking saints. They were murderers just like the rest of us, and the world didn’t lose anything valuable when they died.” He leans back in his chair. “Second, tell me something, Emily. In the five years you’ve lived around us, how many actual conversations have you had with Maxim or Lorenzo?”

The question genuinely makes me stop and think, and immediately I understand what he’s trying to say. I see those men every day, but the truth is, I don’t really have relationships with them. I trust them to protect me, but that’s where it ends.

The second Giorgio notices realization crossing my face, he continues.

“And Brando? The same day he found out what happened, he got on a jet to Chicago to help Noah come up with another plan to kill Tony. Because if Tony dies before opening his mouth about you, this entire mess disappears.”

My eyes widen slightly.

“Before he left,” Giorgio says, “he only said one thing. He said this was Don Carlo’s mistake for dragging you into this mess in the first place and ignoring the fact that you’re a new mother dealing with something that would fuck with anyone’s head.”

Shock flashes through me.

Not only did Brando not judge me, he defended me.

Giorgio shakes his head with annoyance. “And I’ve been busting my ass trying to drag you out of this depressing bullshit mood for a month now.” He points at me with his drink. “So who exactly is left to hate you?”

My heartbeat finally eases a little, but a bitter smile still pulls at my lips. “Guess that only leaves Carlo. Apparently he can’t even stand looking at me anymore.”

Giorgio takes another sip of his drink. “Be patient. This’ll pass too.”

My eyes start burning again, so I look away before the tears can fall and let my attention drift toward the inside of the restaurant, trying to pull myself out of this miserable spiral.

Then I see him.

And every part of me turns to ice.

A pair of savage blue eyes from across the room. Eyes burned so deeply into my memory they haunted my nightmares for years.

I don’t need to look at the rest of him to know exactly who he is. The same monster who pinned my friend down in a dark alley years ago and left me with a crippling fear that stayed with me for years. He hasn’t changed much. His blond hair’s longer now, and somehow his face looks even more dangerous than before. He’s wearing jeans and a black V-neck T-shirt, standing off to the side while lazily scanning the restaurant.

But I already know that body.

That massive frame covered in tattoos.

I freeze so completely I can’t even move my eyes away from him.

And then, like he feels me staring, his gaze shifts.

Straight toward me.

The second our eyes meet, my heart leaps into my throat so hard I can barely breathe. My eyes widen in panic, and I whip my head away fast enough to hurt my neck, staring down at the white floral tablecloth instead.

Giorgio notices immediately that something’s wrong, but the monster isn’t in his line of sight.

“What happened?” he asks sharply. “Why do you look like you just saw a ghost?”