Chapter 113: I’ll PDA With You Anytime

Veronica’s eyes narrowed immediately. “Yet?” she repeated.

“I promise I will tell you,” Valentina said quickly. “But not yet.”

“Are you in trouble?” Veronica asked.

“No,” Valentina said firmly.

“That’s all I need to know,” Veronica said quietly, stepping aside.

*****

The Uber rolled to a stop in front of the pizza parlour just as dusk began painting the sky in bruised purples and fading gold. The neon sign in the window flickered on, casting a red glow onto the sidewalk.

Veronica stepped out of the shop at the same moment, waving back at Rosa and Tony through the glass door. The bell jingled softly behind her as it closed.

Luca emerged from the Uber. Dark suit jacket thrown over broad shoulders, shirt collar open slightly, hair still perfectly in place despite the long day. His eyes locked on her instantly.

The tension he carried all afternoon dissolved the second he reached her.

He kissed her. Hard. Urgent. His hand slid into her hair, fingers curling at the nape of her neck as he pulled her closer.

Veronica’s hands came up automatically, gripping his shirt. The kiss deepened.

When he finally let her breathe, she blinked up at him, cheeks flushed.

“I didn’t know you were into PDA,” she laughed softly, catching her breath.

“I’ll PDA with you anytime, Bambola,” he replied, brushing his thumb along her lower lip. “You ready?”

“Yeah,” she said quietly. She handed him her car keys.

He took them without breaking eye contact, then leaned in briefly, pressing a slower kiss to her forehead this time.

“Wait here,” he murmured.

He crossed to the street parking where her car sat under the glow of a flickering lamp post.

Veronica stood on the sidewalk, arms wrapped loosely around herself against the evening chill.

Five minutes later, he pulled the car up smoothly in front of her.

He leaned across the passenger seat and pushed the door open.

She stepped forward, and slid inside. “So Detective Voss…” she started, as the car eased into traffic.

He drove with one hand resting loosely on the steering wheel, the other relaxed against the gearshift. “Not here, Bambola,” he said, the corner of his mouth lifting in a faint smile. “You keep sensitive topics until you are in a safe place.”

Veronica leaned back into the leather seat and exhaled slowly. She was still learning the architecture of his world. The invisible lines. The unseen threats. In her world, conversations happened wherever they needed to. In his, words could be weapons.

Being in love with a mafia god did not come with a handbook.

“I got you something,” Luca said suddenly, breaking the silence.

Her head turned sharply toward him. “Luca? Another gift?”

“You still wear the necklace, right?” he asked.

Veronica reached beneath the soft cotton of her fitted t shirt and pulled the pendant free.

“Right here,” she said quietly.

His jaw flexed with satisfaction. “That one is for safety.” He reached into the inside pocket of his pants and pulled out a small black box. He handed it to her. “This one,” he said softly, “is to inform everyone you belong to a Genovese. Specifically me.”

Her fingers traced the edges before she opened it slowly.

Inside, nestled against dark velvet, lay a bracelet forged in heavy gold. Studs lined its band.

At its center was a large calligraphed G.

And carved into the middle of that G was an L.

“This is beautiful, Luca,” she said. “How is it you come up with such pretty gifts with conditions attached to them?”

“You’re branding me,” she said quietly.

“Don’t you belong to me?” he asked.

They had just pulled into the narrow street where Luca’s house stood.

Veronica turned toward him slowly. “Of course, I do,” she answered.

“Your sister visited me today,” he said.

“I knew the little shit was up to something,” she muttered, folding her arms. “Why?”

“I think you should speak with her yourself. I do not want to get in the middle of this,” he added with a low chuckle.

“Is that where she met Ricardo?” Veronica asked.

“I suppose,” Luca said. “Why?”

She hesitated for a second. Then, “She seems quite smitten with him.”

“Well,” he said evenly, “unless you want her to move to Italy, then you better save her from the heartache and break it off.”

“Hmmm…” she hummed, noncommittal.

“Speaking of,” Luca continued casually, “I will be leaving for Vienna in the morning.”

Veronica’s gaze snapped to him.

Vienna.

Where his wife was.

“Okay,” she said.

One word. Flat.

Luca’s eyes sharpened immediately. “I sense some opposition.”

“No, nothing,” she replied.

“It’s not nothing,” he emphasized.

“Just let it go, Luca.”

“Come on. Tell me.”

“You never listen,” she shot back, rolling her eyes. She exhaled slowly, fighting herself. Whatever she said next would sound small. Petty. Emotional.

“If you know that then tell me what is suddenly wrong,” Luca asserted.

The car rolled slowly toward the iron gates of his estate. Black wrought metal twisted into elaborate patterns. A guard stepped forward from the small security booth, rifle slung casually across his chest. He nodded once, recognizing the vehicle, then moved to unlock the gates.

Veronica stared straight ahead, hands clasped tightly in her lap. “Vienna is where your wife is,” she said.

“Uh… yes… so?” Luca replied, glancing at her as the gates began to part with a slow mechanical groan.

“So?” she echoed, turning toward him now. “You are going to see her, aren’t you?”

He exhaled through his nose impatiently. “Not particularly,” he said. “But of course I will see her. She lives in the Genovese house.”

Of course.

“Of course,” Veronica repeated aloud.

The car rolled forward through the open gates and into the courtyard. The mansion loomed ahead.

“What is happening here?” Luca demanded, cutting the engine but not looking at her. “You always knew I am married. What… what is this?”

“What is this?” she repeated. “Look,” she said, turning fully toward him now, her dark blonde hair catching the dim interior light. “I have a right to feel whatever way I feel. I don’t need you to validate my feelings.”

Luca’s head snapped toward her. “Woman, you’re testing me,” he said, his tone dropping lower as he shifted the car fully into park.

“Which is why I asked you to let it go,” she shot back.

“What exactly is the problem?” he pressed. “I can’t go to Vienna?”

She threw her hands up. “You can do whatever the hell you want!” she snapped, already reaching for the door handle.

The second the car stilled, she stepped out.

“Fucking hell!”

All he saw was Veronica’s back as she strode away from him, shoulders rigid with fury.

He shoved the door open and stepped out. “Vee!” he shouted. She didn’t slow down. Didn’t even turn her head.

She crossed the courtyard and disappeared along the path that curved behind the mansion, toward the smaller wing.

“Vee! Goddamnit. Answer me when I call you!”

“Fuck you!” she shot back over her shoulder without breaking stride. She reached her door. Her mouth tight. She pushed the door open and stepped inside, slamming it just as Luca reached the threshold.

The door hit his chest.

He swore under his breath and shoved it back open, stepping into her flat. He grabbed her arm. “What the fuck is wrong with you?” His fingers circled her wrist firmly enough to stop her.

She wrenched her hand free.

“Me?!” she fired back, turning on him fully now. Her eyes were bright, furious, wounded. “I’m not the one who fucked me and then running off to be with the wife!”

“I’m not going there to be with the wife!” he snapped.

“Then tell me,” she shot back, stepping closer to him instead of retreating, her chest rising with each breath, “are you going to fuck her?!”

His nostrils flared. “She is my wife!”

“Exactly.”

“You are being a child!” Luca barked in frustration.

“Go to hell, Luca!” she threw over her shoulder as she ripped her bag off her shoulder and flung it onto the living room chair. She headed toward the bedroom.

He caught her again. His hand wrapped around her arm, stronger this time, pulling her back with enough force that she stumbled. She collided with the back of the velvet sofa, trapped between it and his body as he stepped into her space.

“Don’t walk away from me,” he warned.

She glared up at him, breath uneven, her back pressing into the edge of the sofa cushion.

“You chose this!” Luca snapped.

“What am I supposed to do while you are off with her, uhn?” she demanded, stepping into him now, refusing to be physically overpowered by his height. “Sit here in your little annex like a well-kept secret? Count the hours until you decide I’m worth returning to?”

“You wait for me,” he said.

“Like hell I will!” Vee yelled.

“What does that mean?” .

“It means what it means.” Her chin lifted. Defiant. Reckless.

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