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“Leave.” I frown. “Where are we going?”
He points to the bedroom. “Get dressed.” He’s furious. The anger radiating out of him is thermonuclear.
“Tell Lorenzo to pick up Olivia and take her to my mother’s. She can stay there with them. I want extra men on the Ferrara house while I’m gone.”
“What?” I whisper. “I don’t want to go to your mother’s. That’s just awkward.”
His eyes widen at me. “Do not even think about disobeying me tonight, Olivia. You will stay at my mother’s. Get fucking dressed. Now!”
Oh my God. I storm up the hall and quickly throw some clothes on. He soon follows and marches into his wardrobe.
“What’s happened?” I ask.
He rips his clothes off a coat hanger, and it flings across the room with force. “I have to go to Sicily.”
“What, now? It’s the middle of the night?” I frown. “What’s happened?”
He kisses me quickly. “Nothing that you need to be worried about. I have something that I have to take care of. You will stay at my mother’s house until my return.”
“I’ll just stay here.”
“You will not stay here alone.”
“Okay. Calm down.”
It’s obvious he’s under a lot of stress about something, and I don’t want to add to it.
“Pack a bag.”
“Well, how long will you be?”
“I don’t know.” He tears out an overnight bag and begins to throw clothes into it with force. He’s completely losing his shit here.
Fear starts to run through me. “Is something wrong?”
He opens the safe in his wardrobe and removes two guns.
He puts one under his jacket.
“Just trouble at one of the brothels. Nothing for you to worry about.”
“Why do you need a gun, then?”
He brushes past me and goes into the bathroom to pack his toiletries.
I storm in after him. “Is Sofia there?”
“Olivia,” he bellows. “Do not fight with me tonight. This has nothing to do with Sofia. Pack your fucking clothes.”
“You don’t have to be an asshole about it!” I snap.
I walk back into the bedroom and begin to throw some clothes into the overnight bag he has gotten out for me. I go into the bathroom and grab my toiletries. I stare at the closed bottom drawer for a moment and then I snatch the pharmacy bag that I picked up today.
“How long are you going to be?” I ask.
“Not long.”
“Not long as in one night, or not long, as in eight?”
