Everyone knew there was something wrong. She could tell by the looks they sent her way. Even Mrs. Castillo, who had worked for Durante for half her life and didn't let anything fluster her, sent worried looks her way. Natale wasn't going to stop and indulge in any of the pitying looks from her people. She'd already banned Ericka from saying a word.

It didn't help that Salvatore looked ready to pick her up, toss her over his shoulder and drag her off somewhere.

Well, that would have worked the night before when she'd all but begged for it. It had only been her stubborn pride that had kept her from actually uttering the words. She wanted him, but if he didn't want her, then she would be a big girl with big girl panties and walk away. This show was more important than anything else and she'd let herself get distracted. That was never going to happen again.

Every ounce of her energy was going to be focused on her show. She would get over the humiliation, and she'd secure the business for her family. And when she had everything back on track, she'd lick her wounds and maybe open herself up to trying again.

Maybe.

With someone else… anyone else.

“Natale?”

Tensing just the littlest bit, she turned to her oldest friend. Smile in place, Natale looked at the garment in her hands. “What's up?”

“Lavonne’s here for her fitting, you said you wanted to-”

“Yes!” Natale reached out and touched Ericka’s arm, giving it a little squeeze. “Thanks for remembering.” Taking the garment and draping it over her arm, Natale met the model in the center of the room. Seeing the anticipation on the other woman’s face, Natale felt the tension on her shoulders drop away. “Lavonne, just the woman I’ve been wanting to see all morning.” It was true, this dress had given her fits. The design was simple but that was the catch. The simpler designs were always the trickiest. Simple meant that every seam, every inch of hem would be scrutinized. Simple meant it had to be perfect or be ripped apart in reviews.

Together in the fitting room, they lifted the gown over Lavonne’s head, and with a few wiggles, the garment washed over her body, and settled around her generous curves.

Looking up into the mirror, Lavonne’s face softened for a moment. “Oh, Natale!”

Gently setting her arm around Lavonne’s shoulders, Natale took in the whole effect. “You look so lovely.”

Both women took in the easy fit of the garment as Lavonne shifted slightly before the mirror. Natale pulled the tab on the invisible zipper and drew the garment together in the back. She could see Lavonne tense before her. Natale didn’t blame her. Finding clothing for a woman with curves was an exercise in frustration and many times futility. The model before her was called ‘plus-size’ but her ‘rack size’ was one that a large portion of American women called their own. Rather than being singled out in fashion as ‘large’ or ‘not-commercial,’ Lavonne was very much a ‘model American woman.’

Natale knew what Lavonne had braced herself for. She was waiting for the pinch of the zipper. She was waiting for the zipper to become stuck because of her size. Neither issue happened and instead, the garment only accentuated her lush curves in a gentle embrace of fabric instead of stretching and pulling over her skin. “Just perfect.” Turning her head, she pressed a kiss on Lavonne’s cheek. “Let’s go and show the ladies.”

As the women emerged from the fitting room, Natale saw the spontaneous reactions of the women in the workroom and her spirits soared. These women together had more than a hundred years of sewing and patterning skills and they were worth their weight in diamonds. So, when the ladies gasped and clapped their hands at the sight of Lavonne in her dress, it was truly a winning moment for Natale.

A soft rush of sound turned her head and she regretted the decision. Salvatore had stood up from his chair, his eyes fixed on her. He didn’t have to say a word, she saw the entreaty in his eyes. He wanted to talk, something he made clear on the way to the workroom, and she thought she’d made her answer very clear at the workroom door.

Catching Ericka’s pointed look, Natale struggled to keep her good mood firmly in place. “Go ahead and take some Polaroids and have Mrs. Costello fit her for shoes and check her hem.”

Before she could walk away, Ericka grabbed her arm. “Want to go get some lunch?” She darted a glance toward the door. “We could go get a drink, take the edge off, and-”

“I don’t want to talk about it, Ericka.”

Ericka’s shoulders slumped. “Sweetie, I’m sorry if I messed things up for you last night. I probably made a complete ass of myself by bringing over the bag of-”

Natale silenced Ericka with a bear hug, nearly squeezing the very breath from her friend’s lungs. “You didn’t do a thing. I’m just not cut out for the relationship thing. Okay? Look, I don’t think I can go anywhere. Salvatore wants me to keep a low profile while his brothers check on some leads. So,” a nervous chuckle peppered her answer, “I’m kind of a prisoner in the workroom today.”

Ericka opened her mouth to say something, but Natale couldn’t listen to it.

Stepping away, Natale called out to the room in general. “I’ll be in my office if anyone needs me.” She offered the workers a bright thankful smile. “You’re all amazing! I can’t wait until the world gets to see all of your hard work.”

Before anyone could stop her, she walked into the hallway and headed for her office.

* * *

Near the end of the day, Natale was ready to drop. She’d thrown herself into her work, and while she didn’t want to jinx things, her crew was ahead of schedule and well on their way to being ready for the show a full day ahead of schedule. The next day was going to be a long one with visits to the event space and conversations with the tech crew. Lighting, sound, and front of house were all etched into her schedule and frankly, she couldn’t wait. In the past, she’d played second to father, but this time, it was her vision and she ached to see it all come together.

A quick knock at her door had her on her feet. Ericka poked her head in.

“I hope you’ve got a bottle hiding in your desk. Caprice is headed this way.”

Before Natale could comment or even wrap her head around the idea, Caprice pushed the door open and swept into the room past Ericka. Her cousin stopped before her desk, her hands planted on her hips. Every quick in-drawn breath lifted her shoulders. A few moments later, Caprice nailed Ericka with a look. “Don’t you have something to do?”

Natale saw Ericka’s eyes narrow and knew if she gave her a nod, any kind of permission, Ericka was likely to grab Caprice by the hair and throw her out.

As tempting as that was, Natale knew how hard this whole situation had been on her cousin. Caprice had been so sure she would get to present her line at Fashion Week. Natale knew that it was more avantgarde than Bellezza, but it had completely staggered her cousin. “Thanks, Ericka. You can go ahead and leave. I’ll lock up when I leave.”

With one last uncomfortable look, Ericka nodded and disappeared into the hallway, closing the door after her.

Struggling with her smile, Natale looked at her cousin. “Caprice, I have to say I’m kind of surprised that you’re here.”

As she watched, Caprice’s normally haughty glare dissolved into tears. “Natty, I need your help.”

To say that Natale was stunned was an understatement. Caprice had always seemed to be a force of nature. “What happened?”

Dropping her Chanel handbag to the floor, Caprice closed the distance between them, taking Natale’s hands in her own. “I was so stupid yesterday. I was tired and jet-lagged and I was probably hungry and I can’t believe what I said to you,” she continued on, “to your face! I don’t know what came over me. You understand, don’t you?”

The whole idea that Caprice was actually there, apologizing to her, knocked Natale for a loop.

“Sure,” she gave her cousin an encouraging smile since she didn’t know how long this version was going to last, “I can understand, but-”

“See? That’s why everyone loves you!” Caprice released Natale and covered her tangle of gemstone necklaces with a trembling hand. “I need you to help me. After all, this is all his fault!”

Natale held up her hands, trying to get her to slow down. “Wait. What are you talking about?”

“That goon of yours.” Caprice waved her hand at the door.

“Salvatore?”

Caprice rolled her eyes. “Who else?”

Natale felt her hands go cold. “What happened?”

“He must have called Uncle Gio after I came by yesterday. He’s so upset!”

“Salvatore?”

“No, Uncle Gio! He told me to stay away from Durante until the show is over and now, I need to get into the storeroom to send samples back to a vendor.”

Natale pressed her fingers to her temple. “Then just do it. The storeroom is in a completely different building.” She ground her teeth together. Natale wasn’t a person who said ‘no’ easily. This was no exception. “I’m sorry, but I don’t have time to go to storage.”

Caprice’s voice snapped from her lips. “I can’t go. Your father told me to stay away.”

She wanted to snap right back, but that wasn’t going to help. As much as she struggled to understand her cousin’s attitude at times, it wasn’t about petty issues between them, if she needed to get something for a vendor then she needed to help.

“I can call Papa. I’ll explain-”

“Please don't make this a bigger mess than it already is.” Caprice handed her a written list of the items. “If you’ll leave them with your doorman I can pick them up and take them to the Mailbox store.” Caprice gave her an air-kiss and headed for the door.

“Wait, Caprice!”

The blonde stopped just inside the office door, her hair whipping around her face only to fall into gentle waves around her shoulders. “What?”

“Why don’t you come with me?” Natale could feel the hopeful smile on her face. “The Mailbox store is just a few blocks down from the warehouse. We could go and get dinner together.”

She saw the involuntary wince and looked away.

“Look,” Caprice gave a little shrug, “it’s not that I don’t want to spend time with you, Natty.”

Natale struggled to smile in the face of her childhood nickname.

“I just don’t think I can be around your new friend. He’s the reason I’m having to ask you to do this in the first place.” A huff of laughter passed her perfectly painted lips. “The last thing I want to do is come face to face with the brute! I’d probably put my heel through his foot.”

“Caprice-”

“You’re either going to help me or not. Which one is it?”

Natale opened her mouth to answer, but Caprice had already pulled the office door open and moved into the hall. Instead of hearing her heels down the hall, she heard the soft click of the door in the hall and remembered the fire door in the alcove.

“Okay,” she said to no one in particular, “I guess I’ll go get those things for you. Thanks for asking.” She sat on the edge of her desk looking at the paper that Caprice had pushed into her hand. She’d had her issues with her cousin. Caprice had done horrible things to her, said horrible things, but she was dedicated to Durante. If you would cut either of them, they’d likely bleed fabric dye and pull thread from their veins.

If Caprice said she needed help and it was for the business, then she needed help.

Looking up at the office door, she knew that if she went outside Salvatore would insist that she remain in the workroom, or he’d go with her. The first option wasn’t an option. She needed to take care of this tonight.

Her thoughts strayed to the stairwell that Caprice had used. Stairs weren't her thing. After hours on her feet, the last thing she wanted to do was make her way down countless stairs.

The clock on the wall ticked away, sounding just like Caprice’s heels on the hard floor. Part of her said she should just tell him what she needed to do and make him come along.

The larger part of her remembered the humiliation from the night before. It wasn’t really his fault, she knew that. Sure, he’d said some pretty things to her about how they were meant to be together, and she’d wanted to believe. Maybe he meant it, but maybe she’d taken his flirtation for serious interest. That was on her.

Shaking her head, she looked at the list in her hands one last time.

If she cut across Central Park, following her usual path through the Rambles, cutting a few corners and turn arounds, she’d be able to get there and back before Salvatore came looking for her. He probably thought she was still in her office. Good. Let him.

Grabbing up her purse and her keys, Natale moved to the door and quietly opened it. Leaning her ear toward the entrance, she froze when she heard the ring of a phone. Flattening her purse against her belly, she held her breath and almost ruined it by laughing when she realized that the ring came from down the hall, and she’d already turned her phone off when Caprice had come into her office.

Salvatore answered with his usual Italian greeting, and she had to admit the rumbling sound of his voice rolled right through her and made all the wrong parts of her body tingle. Most of what she heard was muffled. He was a fair distance away and she hadn’t spent much time eavesdropping on people, so she could only catch pieces of what he was saying.

“…nothing new?” A break, long enough for an answer on the other end. “That doesn’t make sense.”

She clamped her lips down, silencing herself.

“So, nothing’s happening.” His voice was strung tight, but she wondered if it was all just disappointment, that he didn’t have to be a hero.

Natale’s shoulders sagged in relief. Nothing. No news. No letters. No danger. Almost giddy with the realization that she was staring at freedom, Natale closed her door, slowly turning the handle to keep the locking mechanism silent, and headed for the stairwell. She didn’t have to worry much about making noise because she was in her comfortable flats. When she reached the door, she saw how Caprice had managed to breeze in and out without an issue. Someone had stuffed a paper in the lock, making it impossible for the bolt to click into place. “Brilliant.” She’d leave it blocked and use it to slip back in when she was done.

Pushing the door open, she eased out into the stairwell, holding the door open with her back, half expecting Salvatore to show up and pull her back into the workroom. She heard him shout and froze in place, her hand losing hold of the paper in her hand as she grabbed for her purse. When several breaths went by with no one appearing, she eased out into the stairwell and closed the door behind her. Trying not to think of the sheer number of stairs between her and the ground floor, she began her descent.

* * *

Salvatore felt his back teeth grind together and held tightly to his phone so it didn’t shake loose from his hands. “I don’t like this.”

He could hear his brother pacing on the other end of the call. “None of us do. They don’t escalate and then drop off the face of the earth.”

“Have Valerio head to her apartment and you come here. You’ll drive my car and I’ll stay with her in the back.” Fangs slid free in his mouth, grazing the inside of his upper lip. The blood was hot in his mouth and he felt his bear rise. “There’s something wrong.”

A heavy breath sounded through the speaker on his phone. “What’s wrong is you.”

Uberto didn’t challenge him often. When he did, they both ended up bloody and shaking from exhaustion, waiting for their wounds to heal. Even when the challenge was on the phone, Salvatore felt his bear rear up on his hind legs and glare. “What?”

“You’re not thinking straight.”

Salvatore was searching for the sound of contrition in his brother’s voice.

He didn’t find any.

“You’re not safe because you’re on the phone, ‘Berto.”

A subtle growl reached his ears. “I’d say it to your face, brother. You need to hear the truth in my words. You’re wound too tight. You’re too focused on her.”

“She’s my responsibility!”

“She’s your mate, ‘Tore.” Uberto’s tone held more humor than was safe, even as his brother. “You’re thinking with everything but your brain right now.”

“I would never let anything happen to her!” He turned his head, half expecting Natale to come out and glare at him, but the hallway remained silent. “That’s why I’m focused on her.”

“Yes,” he heard the soft, soothing tones in his brother’s voice, “but you’ve never been in love with a client before. You’ve never been so out of your head that you’re tied up in knots. What has you so on edge today?”

The truth hit Salvatore hard in the ribs. “What makes you say that?”

Uberto’s sigh was a familiar one, Salvatore had heard it over and over throughout the years. “When you picked up the phone you bit my head off. That’s how I know. Something happened and you’re not happy.”

There was no way that he was going to tell his brother that he’d had the chance to hold her in his arms and turned her down. He’d seen the hurt in Natale’s eyes, heard it in her voice and when he’d listened at her bedroom door, he heard the way she’d tossed and turned in bed.

He’d wanted her more than his next breath, but while he would have gladly rolled her beneath his body and tasted every inch of her skin a hundred times over, she deserved to know the truth. She needed to know who he was inside and out before she allowed him to claim her. It had to be her choice, but with her eyes open.

The elevator opened up and Salvatore got to his feet.

He saw Ericka through the glass panel. A moment later she swung the door open, her keys dangling from the lock.

Pulling the phone away from his ear he met her worried gaze with his own, instantly on alert. “Ericka?”

“Where’s Natale?”

He ended his call knowing that his brother heard what had been said. Dropping it into his pocket he looked down the hall. “In her office.”

Ericka’s gaze looked heavenward and she almost collapsed in relief. “Thank goodness.”

“What’s wrong?” He didn’t like the fear that was riding her when she’d arrived.

She let out a little giggle. “Don’t mind me, I get a little ‘odd’ sometimes.” Waving away his concern, she rolled her eyes. “I get these feelings. Natale calls it the voices in my head.”

His gaze narrowed on her face, concerned.

“Oh hey, relax!” She gave him a swat on the arm and then recoiled liked she’d hit a brick wall. “Ouch, you’re hard as rock!” She giggled. “But I’m sure I’ll get all the details when I talk to Natale. She’s going to think I’m crazy for coming back here, but I just had this odd feeling.” She shuddered. “I felt like Natale was in trouble.”

Some didn’t believe in feelings or intuition, but when you were a man who could become a bear at will, superstition didn’t seem like such a stretch. When Ericka’s words settled in his thoughts, he felt a sudden and abject fear gnaw through his middle.

Turning his head, he bellowed down the hallway, “Natale?” He didn’t bother waiting for an answer, he started in that direction. He knew before he opened the door to her office that she wasn’t there. Once he opened the door he stopped short, his heart pumping blood wildly through his veins.

His bear paced wildly, pushing hard against his ribs with the strong force of his compulsion. Go. Move. Now. Find. Protect.

He heard Ericka’s shoes on the hard floor a moment before she grabbed a hold of his suit, rocking him forward. “There,” she was looking at the hallway floor. She bent down and snatched up the paper. As she read aloud, he didn’t understand the words, he just waited impatiently for her to explain.

“Tell me.”

She shrugged. “It doesn’t make any sense, we’re not using any of these for the show.”

Salvatore reached for the paper and she pushed his hand away. “It’s a list of things that we have stored in our warehouse.”

“I didn’t know you had storage in this building.” He felt a rush of relief ease the strain across his shoulders.

“It’s across the park.”

His gaze found the door tucked into the alcove. Crossing to it, he pushed it open and stared at the old stairwell. Frustration rose up in his middle until he was nearly choking on it. “Address.”

If Ericka was angry that he had made a demand, she didn’t show it, rattling off the information with fear in her eyes.

Nodding, he started down the stairs. He heard Ericka calling after him, following after him, but she fell behind him in a matter of seconds.

He couldn’t worry about her, not now. He had to get to Natale.