Chapter Sixteen
"I told you we didn't need to come here. I have a perfectly fine dress at home I could've worn," Olivia tried to argue one more time as she and Nico stepped into the fancy—more than likely overpriced—department store. With Nico at her side in his fine-tailored suit and her in jean shorts and a t-shirt, she felt significantly underdressed.
"And I told you," Nico said, hugging an arm around her shoulders and steering her deeper into the store, "this is a special occasion, and fine is not good enough. I want you to have the best."
They'd first argued at home and then in the car on the way to the store. Well, to be honest, she argued while Nico listened and then promptly ignored all her objections. She still wasn't comfortable shopping, and having Nico foot the bill made it worse. He didn't seem to understand her misgivings even when she'd tried to explain. According to Nico, shopping was one of the perks of being married to him. He didn't realize the only perks she wanted couldn't be bought.
The echo of two sets of dress shoes—Nico's and Marco's—along with her flip-flops clipped and flapped against the hard marble floor. As they passed a perfume counter, the overpowering array of mixed scents hit Olivia's nostrils and made her already nervous stomach feel queasy.
Mannequins in a variety of fashions lined the walkway proclaiming each department. And when they reached the dress section, Nico steered them off the walkway and into the cluster of clothing racks.
A woman elegantly dressed in a suit skirt and silk blouse approached them. "Mr. Conti." She flashed Nico a megawatt smile. "How wonderful to see you. How may I be of assistance?"
"We need a full wardrobe, including lingerie, shoes, and an evening dress in red." Nico's arm tightened when Olivia tried to step from his hold.
The saleswoman eyed her, giving her the once-over, her smile dimming a few watts. "Of course. Let me start gathering a few things and set up a dressing room."
Olivia watched the woman walk away before hissing at Nico, "You said one dress."
His hold on her tightened. "Actually, I said you needed a dress for tonight. I just failed to mention we'd be buying other things, as well."
"Omission is still a lie."
"No, an omission is the absence of divulging the truth."
"That's the same thing."
"In my line of work, it's not."
A fleeting shadow passed over his eyes, a glimpse of the deadly predator he tried so hard to hide from her, peeking out. She turned her head away, not ready to face that side of her new husband. Ignorance truly was blissful.
A finger on her chin guided her head, forcing her to look back at his eyes. Whatever she'd seen was now gone, and he even had a small smile on his lips. "Do this for me, tesoro."
He'd given her so much, and she'd given hardly nothing in return. It felt petty arguing further. With a resigned sigh, she nodded.
"Thank you." He leaned down, giving her a gentle kiss on her forehead.
The shadows in his eyes, from moments ago, were replaced with a warmth that filled her with happiness because she knew she had made him happy. And she vowed right then, in the middle of a department store she didn't want to be at, doing something she didn't want to do, she would gladly do whatever it took to keep his shadows at bay, so he would always look at her exactly as he was then.
She felt like Cinderella by the time they'd left the department store. Gone were her "rags" and in their place, a sexy, red evening dress. They'd also filled the trunk with additional purchases that she hoped would tide Nico over—for at least a few years—from dragging her on future shopping expeditions.
Walking into the dimly lit restaurant on Nico's arm, the first thing that hit her was the smell of garlic, tomatoes, and the yeasty scent of baked bread. Her stomach rumbled in anticipation, and she placed a hand to cover it, covertly glancing around to see whether she'd attracted any attention. Eyes were pointed their direction, but thankfully, as usual, they were looking a Nico. Olivia heard a soft chuckle and sighed. While her stomach issues may have escaped the notice of the masses, they didn't escape the detection of the man standing at her side.
And, of course, he had to mention it. "Hungry?"
Embarrassment heating her cheeks, she figured she could give as good as she got. "Starved, actually. Torture will do that to a person."
The hostess returned to her podium and spotted Nico. "Mr. Conti, please follow me, your table's ready."
"Torture?" Nico asked, picking up the conversation as they followed the hostess to their table.
Nico held out her seat, and she waited for the hostess to hand them their menus and leave before she replied. "Shopping. Surely you remember dragging me to the department store or are you so old you don't remember? I know memories can be tricky at your age."
He picked up her hand, bringing it to his lips to kiss her fingertips. "My funny wife. Keep it up, and I'll show you how virile us old men can be." He ended the sentence, capturing her pointer between his lips and sucking it into his mouth.
Heat speared through her, and she didn't even care if the whole restaurant full of people were watching. Her voice came out low and throaty. "Careful or I might take you up on your threat."
He leaned into the table, cutting the distance between them in half. With eyes so dark, they almost looked black in the low lighting, he whispered, "I don't make threats, tesoro, I make promises."
She didn't doubt that for a second. She turned away from his intense stare, her eyes finding and locking on one of the many framed paintings on the wall.
"Olivia."
Nico's tone was soft but held an edge that was impossible to ignore. She turned her gaze back to his.
"That's twice now you've turned away from me. I'm not sure what you see to make you do so, I can only guess, and my guess is, it's something scary. I can't tell you I'm a nice guy. I'm not. I'm bossy, demand I get my way, and have a short temper even though I know how to control it. But know this," the hand that wasn't still grasping hers came up to trace a line down her cheek until it spanned her neck, gently squeezing, "though I hold your life in my hand, I would never do anything to hurt you. You have nothing to fear from me, tesoro mio. Ever."
Even with the weight of his hand around her neck—that she knew was there to make a point—when she searched his eyes, she saw he spoke nothing but the truth. And call her a fool, but she believed him. Leaning slightly forward, putting more weight into his palm, showing him her trust, she rasped, "I believe you."
He removed his hand from her neck, bringing it back to cradle her cheek, his thumb lightly brushing along her skin. "Good."
Keeping her voice low so as not to disturb the peace of the moment, she asked, "What does tesoro mio mean?" She noticed he called her that a lot.
Picking up her hand, he brushed his lips across her palm before answering just as softly, "My treasure."
And call her a fool again, but with those two little words, she found herself surrendering another piece of her heart to Nicoló Conti.
Belly full and two glasses of champagne—which she discovered she enjoyed much better than wine—consumed, Olivia was fully content as they stood to leave. That is until she heard a voice that had her stomach dropping.
"Well, fancy running into you here." Carmine Vella stood before them. A pretty, petite blonde at his side.
"Carmine." Nico acknowledged with a small nod, but neither man offered their hand for a shake.
Carmine's gaze drifted over Olivia in a slow sweep, lingering in places that made her feel dirty. When his eyes made it back to hers, she saw anger in their depths she'd never seen before, and that he didn't try to hide.
Already close, Olivia took a sidestep that plastered her side against Nico's. His hand, that had been resting at the small of her back, wrapped more fully around her waist, his fingertips rubbing her hipbone in a calming caress.
"I hear congratulations are in order. Aren't you going to introduce me to your beautiful new bride?" Carmine's question was for Nico, but his eyes never strayed from Olivia.
Nico turned his attention to the woman standing next to Carmine, ignoring his request. "I can say the same. It's a pleasure to meet you, Mrs. Vella."
The blonde beamed at Nico. "Please call me Lidia. Any friends of Carmine's are friends of mine." She reached over, hugging her husband's arm.
Olivia saw the flash of annoyance before Carmine could mask it as he looked over at his wife. Luckily, Lidia was still talking and didn't notice.
"What a coincidence, you guys are newlyweds, too? How long have you been married? Carmine and I just celebrated our one-month anniversary."
So the rumors that Carmine had been engaged while pursuing her had been true. She felt sick just thinking about it.
Lidia continued talking, barely taking a breath. "We just got back from our honeymoon." Her smile grew brighter. "Paris! We could only stay a week because Carmine had to get back for business. I would've loved to stay longer. The food was magnificent, and the shops were divine. Where did you two—"
Carmine interrupted his wife by loudly clearing his throat and giving her a stern look. "Please excuse my wife. She can be quite," he gave her a small frown, "chatty."
Lidia compressed her lips, hurt crossing her features before she bowed her head to look at the floor.
Olivia felt Nico squeeze her hip. "Well, it was nice meeting you, Lidia." He nodded, once more, to Carmine. "But, I'm afraid we must get going."
Nico turned them to leave, but after only a few steps toward the exit, she heard Carmine call out. "It was lovely to meet you, Mrs. Conti. I'm sure we'll be seeing each other again soon."
A shiver slid down her spine, and her feet picked up pace, wanting nothing more than to carry her from the restaurant and flee from the lingering gaze she felt burning into her retreating figure.
* * * * *
Nico stood on the back patio, staring up at the sky, lost in thought. It was late enough that the blistering heat of the day finally gave up its hold, surrendering to the night, making the evening temperature pleasant with a light, cool breeze as an added bonus.
He'd left a sleeping Olivia in their bed, curled on her side, a protective cocoon of peacefulness surrounding her. Wrapping himself around Olivia, he could usually tap into some of that peacefulness, at least enough to get some sleep, but not tonight. No, tonight his thoughts were anything but peaceful. He worried Carmine was going to be a bigger problem than he'd thought.
He brought his cigarette to his lips, taking a long drag and pulled the smoke into his lungs before blowing it out, watching as it dissipated into the night. He hadn't liked the look in the other man's eyes, the degree of anger radiating from him. Wives were supposed to be safe. Untouchable. It was a code they lived by. He'd underestimated Carmine. A mistake he wouldn't make twice.
Olivia was safe in their house, but the plan had been for her to get out more. He hadn't liked finding out she spent her days cooped up in their room. But after tonight, he was conflicted on whether to encourage outside activity. Nico was never conflicted. Right or wrong, he always knew the course he needed to take, and he took it regardless of the outcome or who may get hurt.
But Olivia was a different matter. He couldn't fuck up when it came to her well-being. His chest hurt, and he found it hard to breathe at just the thought of something happening to her. He angrily crushed out his cigarette, using that as the excuse for his shortness of breath. He looked down at the bits of white paper and shredded tobacco. Yeah, that was the reason. It couldn't be anything else.