The Choice (House of Sin Book 6)

by Elisabeth Naughton

  “Yes, he is.” She rose and moved to a shelf where several bottles of wine were hidden. “Of course, the first time I met him, I thought he was Spanish.”

  “You did?”

  “Yep. He was good at faking his accent. I was totally hot for him.” She poured the wine and came back with two glasses of red. Handing me one, she sat beside me and tucked one leg under her. “Then I found out he lied and conned me, and I quickly changed my opinion.”

  I nearly spit my wine out. “Dear God, is that part of the Salvatici playbook or something?”

  Felicity grinned. “It’s entirely possible. Though Marco quickly learned the error of his ways.”

  I leaned back and sipped my wine, enjoying her story, unable to stop worrying at the same time.

  She reached out and squeezed my hand. “Marco’s not going to let anything happen to Luc.”

  “I know. If they were planning to hurt him, they would have done it last night.”

  “Exactly.” She tipped her head. “So, what’s bugging you? Marco said you and Luc worked things out.”

  “We did. I’m just... nervous about what his father is going to want him to do. Being the supportive wife is one thing. Being supportive when you know he’s being forced to participate in illegal activities...”

  “For what it’s worth, I don’t think he’ll start there. Antonio is smart enough to know that Luc will balk at anything too nefarious to start. My guess is whatever job he gives him will be masking something else. Much like his role at Covet.”

  “Great.” I frowned and lifted my wine to my lips. “So he’ll be doing nefarious things but pretending to be doing legal things.”

  She laughed. “Think of it this way. The more Luc learns about the behind-the-scenes activities, the easier it will be for him to change them when he takes his father’s place.”

  I lowered my wine and stared at her. “That could be years.”

  “Possibly. Hopefully not.”

  I looked down at my wine, hating how our life together was being dictated by others.

  “And the parties and rituals?” I asked warily.

  “He’ll go, reluctantly, as expected, and he won’t participate, like Marco. None of that has changed, Natalie. Luc’s deal with them did not specify he was required to participate.”

  I breathed a little easier with that knowledge, though I still didn’t like the idea of him attending any of those gatherings, with or without me.

  Pushing the thought aside before it could depress me, I looked over at her. “Speaking of nefarious activities...”

  Her eyes narrowed. “Yes?”

  “I need something to keep me busy. This is the first time I haven’t been employed since I was fifteen. If I have to sit around, waiting for Luc to come home every day, I’ll go batshit crazy. I don’t suppose there’s any chance you need help? With your nefarious activities?”

  “You want to work with me?”

  I nodded. “I saw what you did for Sela.” Sela was the young woman who took care of Luc’s house in the tropics. She had also once served as a kitten under the control of House Salvatici until Felicity had helped her escape this nightmare. “You’re making a difference. I can’t help Luc with his House, but I can help people like Sela and Dante.”

  She considered for a moment. “You were very helpful with Dante. And Luc, actually. A lot of the girls we relocate are traumatized and injured. Most of the guys I work with don’t have that calming presence. If you’re serious, I can definitely use the help. Though you have to keep in mind it can be dangerous.”

  “I’m not afraid of a little danger.”

  “No, you certainly are not. But I’m pretty sure Luc will say no.”

  “Let me deal with Luc. He feels so bad about last night, it’s the perfect time to hit him up with something I want.”

  She laughed and tapped her glass against mine. “Okay then. To being partners.”

  I smiled, finally feeling like I was pulling my own weight in this crazy twisted world. “To being partners.”

  “No way. Absolutely not,” Luc said hours later as we sat outside on the patio under the string lights, listening to the crickets in the fading light of early evening.

  “Why not?” I turned toward him on the double chaise and stared at him.

  We’d had a nice dinner on the patio, just the two of us, and talked about Luc’s new position as president of the Salvatici Wineries—a position I’d been relieved by because it was a normal job. But ever since we’d moved to the chaise and I’d brought up the topic of working with Felicity, he’d been a bear.

  “Because you think it’s dangerous?” I asked.

  “Absolutely because I think it’s dangerous. Because it is.”

  “Marco doesn’t have a problem with Felicity doing it.”

  He snorted and reached for his wine from the table at his side. “Marco’s a basketcase every time she leaves on one of her damn relocation trips.”

  “I wouldn’t be going with her, Luc, just helping her at the safe houses when she’s treating the girls before they’re transported.”

  “Helping them how? You’re not a doctor or even a nurse.”

  “Reassuring them, being a calming presence for them. The same things I did for Dante and you, even though you didn’t want me anywhere near you.”

  He frowned at me as he swallowed his wine. “I did want you near me. That was the problem.” He set his glass back on the table at his side with a scowl. “And no way am I letting you go comfort someone the way you comforted me.”

  I smiled, loving that possessive streak.

  Throwing a leg over him, I straddled his waist and pressed my hands to the back of the chaise as I looked down at him. “Do you really think I would comfort someone the way I comforted you?”

  His hands landed against my hips, and the bracelet I loved to see on his wrist slipped down against the cuff of his dress sleeve. “I hope not. Especially since you’ll be comforting mostly women.”

  My smile widened. “Does that mean that’s a yes?”

  He frowned up at me. “Are you going to listen to me if I say no?”

  I shook my head.

  “Merda. If anything happens to you, I’m going to kill Felicity. Then Marco.”

  I laughed and kissed him.

  “I’m not kidding. It’ll be bloody,” he said against my lips. “I’ll probably go to jail. Get the death penalty.”

  “Do they have that in Italy?”

  “In my House, they sure as hell do.”

  I laughed as he pulled me down and rolled me over, then gently bit my throat.

  He drew back and looked down at me, his expression sobering. “I’m serious, though. It worries me. If something were to happen—”

  “It won’t.” I brushed my hand across the soft stubble on his jaw.

  “You don’t know that.”

  I looked up into his silvery eyes. “Everything we do is dangerous, Luc. You said so yourself. I can sit here and grow bitter about that, waste away until I’m a shadow of the woman you married, or I can do something to make a difference. Like you’re making a difference.”

  “I’m running a winery. I’m not changing my House.”

  “No, but you will. And this is your first step toward making those changes.”

  He sighed and pressed his cheek against my chest, right over my heart. “I never wanted to be the one to bring change to this House.”

  “I know that.” I sifted my fingers through his hair and looked up at the twinkle lights in the pergola and wisteria above us. But he would. We both knew he would, because it was the right thing to do. And as much as Luc claimed he wasn’t a hero, he was one. A reluctant one I loved more with every passing day.

  He was silent for several minutes, then said, “If we’re really staying here for the time being, we should probably talk about where we want to live.”

  My fingers stilled in his hair.

  “I have plenty of money,” he went on. “We could go estate
shopping if you want. Or...”

  “Or?”

  “Or Marco offered to let us stay here in the guest villa as long as we want. I know it isn’t very big, but—”

  “I want to stay here.”

  He lifted his head and met my gaze. “You do?”

  I nodded. “I love this villa. It’s kind of a second home at this point.”

  “Second?”

  “After your island.”

  His eyes softened. “I thought you hated my island.”

  I brushed the hair back from his temples. “I only pretended to hate it to cause you trouble.”

  He pressed his fingers against my ribs, making me laugh and twist beneath him. “You are trouble, angioletto. My trouble.”

  Sighing, he laid his head back on my chest and slid his arm around my waist, holding me tight. “For what it’s worth, vita mia, if it were up to me, we’d build boats together in Tahiti and raise half a dozen babies on our island.”

  I smiled at the picture he painted—me, the girl who was deathly afraid of water, building boats—then sobered. My heart pinched as I thought of all those babies we were never going to have.

  I blinked back the burn behind my eyes, determined not to be sad about one more thing we’d lost. “Babies turn into obnoxious teenagers. I should know. I was terribly mouthy at sixteen.”

  “I don’t believe it.” He pushed up on one arm and looked down at me.

  “It’s true. My mother and I used to get in horrendous screaming matches. She threatened to wash my dirty mouth with soap multiple times.”

  A mischievous smile curled his lips. “I like your dirty mouth.” He leaned down and kissed me. “I like it a lot. In fact, why don’t you show me just how filthy that mouth can be right this very second?”

  I laughed as he deepened the kiss, relieved that my Luc really was back.

  This might not be the life either of us wanted, but we had each other. And that was all we ever needed.

  I just prayed Giovanni left us alone to live it.

  “It has to be delivered directly to Signore Polermo,” Felicity said several days later as she handed me the manila envelope with a nervous expression. “As in, placed in his hand and no one else’s.”

  “I got it. Stop stressing.”

  “You’ll need to cover your tracks. Wander around the market for a while first in case anyone’s following you. You remember where to meet him, right?”

  “Yes.” We’d already been over this a dozen times. “I can handle this, Fee. Trust me.”

  She didn’t look so sure. I was acting as a courier between her and a contact in Florence. She’d been hesitant to give me the assignment, but she had a transport later today and couldn’t make the drop herself. When I’d offered to do it, she’d been wary, until I’d convinced her I was the perfect person for the job. No one would ever suspect the American wife of the recently returned Salvatici heir would be involved in something shady.

  That had convinced her, but she’d still instructed me on how to act as if I was just out on a routine shopping trip.

  I wasn’t really sure what was in the envelope. I’d only deduced it couldn’t just be a letter or money. Both of those could be sent electronically. I had a feeling it was a file of some kind. Possibly with information about House Salvatici she was smuggling out of Italy.

  It occurred to me that Felicity could be involved deeper in the uprising against House Salvatici than simply smuggling sex kittens out of this depraved world. But I wasn’t quite sure I was ready to know all the details.

  Small doses of information. That was how I was keeping my brain from completely freaking out these days.

  I hadn’t spent any time in Florence, and the history lover in me wanted to explore the museums, to see the David, to climb the hillside at the Boboli Gardens, but I resisted and focused on my task, telling myself I’d make Luc bring me back here another day.

  The San Lorenzo markets were just as Felicity had described. The Central Market was an indoor, two-story food market in an old warehouse. The outer market was a colorful and cheerful affair consisting of stalls selling leather, clothing, and souvenirs along Via Ariento from the Church of San Lorenzo all the way to Via Nazionale.

  I perused the Central Market first, taking my time to shop and purchase fresh meats and cheeses for the villa, then wandered through the outer market. I was careful not to spend too much time at any one stall, and I continually checked my surroundings to make sure I wasn’t being followed.

  Confident I looked like a tourist in my long dress, sweater, wide-brimmed hat, and sunglasses, I darted into an alleyway away from the market and searched for the address Felicity had given me.

  It took me roughly ten minutes to find it. An antique bookstore in an even older building. As I pulled the glass door open, a bell chimed above me. Rows and stacks of ancient tomes lined the shop, and the scents of wood and paper filled my senses.

  A short, elderly man with a round chest and small spectacles stepped out of a back room and stopped near a counter at the rear of the shop. “Come posso aiutarla?“

  “Um.” I searched for the right words. “Parla inglese?”

  “Sì, signora. How can I help you?”

  “I’m looking for Signore Polermo. I was told he works here.”

  “Sì.” He lifted bushy salt and pepper eyebrows in anticipation. “I am Signore Polermo.”

  I exhaled a relieved breath. “Felicity Merrick sent me.” I tugged the envelope from my bag and held it out to him. “She said you were expecting this.”

  He took the envelope from my hand and looked from it to my face. Then his dark eyes widened, and he said, “Mio Dio. You are the American. The one who married Signore Salvatici.”

  Apparently, word had spread. My cheeks warmed as I gripped my bag in both hands in front of me. “Sì.”

  He rushed to the open doorway behind the counter with the envelope still in his hand. “Signore Vecellio,” he called, looking through the doorway and waving his hand excitedly. “Sbrigati! Veloce!”

  He said something else in Italian I didn’t understand, but I was too shocked by the man stepping through the doorway to try to translate the words.

  “I-I know you,” I muttered, my eyes growing wide.

  He was thin, tall, with a wrinkled face and long white hair pulled back in a tail at the nape of his neck, and though he was dressed in loose slacks, a white button-down shirt, and a long deep brown vest instead of a full-length dark robe, I recognized him immediately.

  I recognized him as the man who’d grabbed me in Rome after that fashion show at Santo Spirito in Sassia and tried to pull me away from Luc.

  “Signora Salvatici,” Signore Palermo said, holding his hand out in introduction toward me with a wide smile.

  Signore Vecellio’s dark eyes narrowed on my face, and he eased closer to me, but he didn’t step around the counter or touch me. And I was glad because I suddenly wasn’t sure what I’d do if he tried. “Signora Salvatici?”

  Signore Palermo nodded several times and spoke quickly in Italian. The white-haired man tore his gaze from me and listened, then slowly nodded and looked back at me once more.

  I had no idea what was going on. Luc had told me this man was a member of the Seventh Sanctum, a group who opposed the Entente and was working behind the scenes to rid the Houses from the world.

  “I-I’m confused.” I looked toward Signore Palermo. Felicity hadn’t said anything about the Seventh Sanctum, and I couldn’t help but wonder if she even knew of their involvement with Signore Polermo.

  “Yes?” Signore Vecellio said, watching me carefully.

  “The last time I saw you, you were trying to kidnap me.”

  “Not kidnap. Rescue.”

  After all the things I’d learned about Luc’s family, I could see his point. But he didn’t know Luc at all. I straightened my spine. “I don’t need to be rescued from my husband.”

  Signore Vecellio placed his hands on the counter. “Signore Polermo
speaks very highly of your husband. He says he will make a great leader very soon. It is the intention of the Sanctum to rid the world of all those who try to exert authority over those they have no claim to—”

  “But,” Signore Polermo said, rushing to his side with a pointed look. “The Sanctum has realized the benefits of joining with la Resistenza. Together, we are stronger, and together we have the opportunity to instill true change in Europe.”

  “Sì,” Signore Vecellio said, nodding his head, his eyes still on me. “And across the world. Of course, much depends on what happens in House Salvatici. And the hidden intentions of your new husband.”

  I wasn’t about to get into any of that with these men, and part of me wasn’t sure I should leave that envelope with Signore Polermo, but this conversation was quickly getting out of control, and I wasn’t about to be sucked into a discussion that was over my head.

  “I must be leaving. Signore Polermo.” I nodded his way. “Signore Vecellio. Buongiorno.”

  I turned for the door, but Signore Vecellio’s voice stopped me when he said, “Signora Salvatici. Un momento per favore.”

  I stopped with one hand on the glass door and slowly turned back to face him.

  “Do you know what the Salvatici name translates to in English?”

  I shook my head.

  “It means savage. You may trust your husband, but he is and will always be a Salvatici in every sense of the word. Be careful. Even the lost pup can be reintroduced to the pack, and after enough time, assimilate until it is virtually indistinguishable from the other beasts.”

  My heart raced, and my hands grew damp as I stared at him. Fingers shaking, I pulled the door open and moved onto the street, fighting back the chill suddenly sweeping down my spine.

  The man was wrong. Luc was not like his family. He wouldn’t become like the rest of his family simply because he was back in Italy and working for them. He wouldn’t let that happen. I wouldn’t let that happen. I fumbled for my phone and dialed Luc’s cell, desperate to hear his voice and prove to myself that would never happen.