I got back one evening to find Elda sitting in the kitchen. It was darkening outside, but she hadn't turned on the lights yet. She didn’t even move when I turned on the lights.

It wasn’t something surprising, she did it often, but she was sitting looking pensive, hands wrapped around a mug. It took me sitting across from her for her to even realize I was there. Her eyes met mine, then skittered away as her hands nervously played with the cup in her hands. She lifted it up for a drink, barely took a sip and grimaced, letting the cup fall gently back onto the counter.

I frowned at the uncharacteristic behavior. Recently, she had two extremes; floating happily or exhausted from too much work, but still happy. She always seemed to have enough energy to attack me in the kitchen, or the shower, or the bedroom, practically every night.

Instead of either, she looked uneasy, and that worried me.

"What is it?"

Her eyes met mine as she bit her bottom lip, thinking about whether she was going tell me. I could feel my impatience grow, but I made myself wait for her. When I was on the verge of snapping, she spoke.

"I've heard word."

I stayed silent, waiting for her to continue. After taking in a shaky breath, she did.

"I can't be sure of its validity without any proof, and I don’t know how to get that without leaving the country—which I won't do. But word on the street is that Greco's son, the eldest, took over the family's business empire."

That wasn’t enough to be this worried over. It was bound to happen, though I would have imagined some uncle or older cousin vying for the spot. I remembered the kid, though, in the few times I'd met him. He was a lot like his father, so it wasn’t really a surprise to me that he'd managed to secure the position.

"We expected something like this, remember? They're a family business, so when you take the head, someone must replace it. I'll admit, I didn't expect his son. But why are you so upset?"

She frowned, hands squeezing hard around the cup until her knuckles turned white. I pulled it out of her hands before she hurt herself, felt the drink was cold—it smelled like chocolate. I put the mug aside. Her hands folded around each other, fingers twining together and squeezing in stress, and I put a hand on both of hers, hoping to comfort her, just a little bit.

"I was also told he's looking for the one that killed his dad. He's not just assuming it's some local mob hit, or whatever. He's sending word to pretty much every affiliate his father ever had, and there are quite a few all over the country. I only heard this, because one of the syndicates I worked for here got the news from the boy himself. He's offering reward money to anyone that can give him clues that they can prove. Luke, it’s a lot of money."

Well, I'd expected that, too, and planned for it before we even left the States. I didn’t need to know how much the prize money was, but the family was rich and only getting richer with lots more to spare. I could foresee some idiots trying to take advantage and getting themselves killed, but I didn’t care about anyone else.

I was careful, though. I did my job well. No one would know it was me that killed Greco.

The day before we were to board the flight, when we didn’t get enough sleep and Elda insisted on going out with me, I'd taken care of everything. Even if someone made a shot in the dark and brought my name up after my convenient disappearance, there was nothing that would lead them to me.

"Look, that isn’t something you have to worry about. No one is going to be looking for us here, I made sure of it. Besides, he was killed on American soil, with a foreign army general. When nothing comes up, he's going to assume that the General had something to do with it, and he'll divert his attention elsewhere, and eventually stop altogether. They can't touch us."

I filled my voice with the conviction I felt. I knew, even if they somehow did manage to track me down, I'd take them out before they did anything to us. I wasn’t in the business anymore but I was keeping my contacts intact, just in case, and Elda did the same.

I saw as she absorbed my sureness in this, and her worried look was wiped away with a smile. She pulled her hands out from under mine and got up.

"What would you like for dinner?"

Just like that, the topic was closed, and neither of us would be opening it again. Instead, we focused on the present.

The houses were ready, a few of them already under contract, and Elda and I were looking forward to our lives together as one.

* * *