“Shit,” I muttered.

“That pot sure is smellin’ sweet,” Nico’s uncle Jimmy said as he walked past.

I, as well as Jimmy, might have had quite a bit of money on the gamble that Ace wouldn’t go through with the marriage to Adriana, but I still wasn’t looking forward to the trouble it would cause.

The next fifteen minutes happened, and that bet was practically in the bag. It seemed Ace had had enough of Elena and Christian’s chat, and so, naturally, he pushed her into the pool, leaving everyone staring and speechless.

I gave Elena the change of clothes I’d brought with me because, honestly, I felt bad for her. I wouldn’t want to be on the other end of Ace’s affections. He was softer in a way than his papà had ever been—I admired Ace’s late mamma Caterina for that—but he was still the same pushy, confident man who always got what he wanted. I worried he would bulldoze right over sweet Elena Abelli.

The incident had killed the mood, and the party dispersed soon after.

“Thank you for coming. Sorry about the—” My smile faltered. “Um, situation.”

Salvatore Abelli gave me a disapproving look before he and the rest of his family left. Well, at least there hadn’t been bloodshed. That seemed to be a recurring theme at these parties with the Abellis.

Nico headed to the door.

“Goodbye, Ace!” I called. “So glad we could finally have a peaceful, uneventful night with the Abellis, aren’t you?”

The expression he gave me said he wasn’t impressed with my joke.

After saying my farewells to the last of the guests, I shut the door, leaned against it, and took in the mess of glasses and dishes left behind.

“Dio mio,” I muttered, and then cursed myself. That was going to be ten Hail Mary’s at my next confession.

I sighed, but before I could let it all out, my body tensed. I thought Christian had left earlier, escaping the party as soon as the drama he’d created commenced. Although, as I drifted toward the low timbre of his voice, I knew I’d been mistaken. My heart rate dipped and dived like it’d had one too many Tequila Sunrises.

His gaze was averted as he leaned against the glass railing on the terrace, talking on the phone. Each word was rough, quiet, and not understandable, as though he was speaking a foreign language.

When he looked up and noticed my presence, a flicker passed through his eyes, and he suddenly spoke clear and concise English.

A man of many secrets.

He ended the call, and we stared at each other in silence. Our expressions were apathetic, yet electricity played in the air, hindering the ease to breathe.

“I guess I should say, nice party,” he drawled.

“I guess. But it just doesn’t have the same effect, considering you ruined it and all.”

“Ah, so Ace loses his cool and I take the blame?”

I shook my head. “You knew exactly what you were doing.”

“Maybe.”

“My question is, why? I thought you and Ace got coffee, shared secrets, and went shopping together?”

He shrugged a shoulder. “Fair play.”

This was about payback? “For what? Wait, don’t tell me—he stole one of your women.”

The slightest muscle tightened in his jaw, and I faltered.

“Oh, my god, he did.”

He pushed off the railing and rolled his shoulders.

Who was this woman he wanted so badly? Elena Abelli?

A bad taste filled my mouth. Must be from that brownie I’d washed down with booze earlier.

“Well, for what it’s worth, I would’ve put my money on you,” I told him.

“Why?” His eyes trapped me where I stood.

I licked my lips. “Well, number one, you’re too pretty for your own good. And number two, you hide your dark side well—Ace doesn’t even try to.”

He nodded slowly, like that made sense.

I lifted a shoulder. “If you want a couple pointers, however, you could probably work on being less of an asshole sometimes. Though I’m beginning to think that’s only for my benefit.”

My messy life must annoy him immensely.

“I’ll keep that in mind.” He slipped his hands in his pockets and took a step toward me. With eyes narrowed, his voice was rough and demanding. “Why did you shut the door on me earlier?”

My pulse fluttered, and I took a step back. “Your face triggers me.”

Another step. “Why the drugs?”

Another one back. “Why the fifty questions?”

“Answer me.”

I gritted my teeth. “Make me.”

A shadow crossed his face as he walked toward me slowly, but I still saw the spark of anger in his eyes. “Do you want to know what I learned over the years?”

I shook my head.

“Interrogation. It takes about twenty minutes to break someone—to make a grown man cry for his mother. I could have you screaming in two.”

My blood ran hot and cold. “Where does one learn to do something like that?”

“Hell.” He said it without pause and so matter-of-fact it sent a chill down my spine. “You’ll tell me why you fucked around with blow today, and you’ll tell me now.”

He was the last person I would willingly share my past with. He already thought of me as a mess; I could only imagine how he’d regard me if he knew all my dirty little secrets.

“You disappear for three years and then come back and demand things from me? You made your interest clear a long time ago, Allister. I’ll never answer to you—get used to it already.”

Cold eyes pierced me with an arrow through the chest. “What part of ‘call me if you need anything’ did you not fucking understand?”

My pulse beat unevenly. A part of me couldn’t believe we were actually going back to that night.

“Please. When a woman doesn’t hear from a man in two weeks, she gets the picture crystal clear.” Another response ricocheted off the walls in my head: You weren’t there. You weren’t there for me, just like everybody else.

Resentment wrapped around my throat.

“Or maybe it was just easier for you to accept a new husband with enough money to keep your self-indulgence supported for the rest of your life.”

I laughed and then choked on it in fury. “I despise you.”

“The feeling is mutual.”

He headed toward the door, and I turned to watch him go.

“Tell me, Officer, were you this cold to your mother?”

He stopped in his tracks.

The temperature in the room took a dive, and goosebumps rose on my arms. But I couldn’t seem to stop myself. I wanted to hurt him; to make him feel something for once in his life. “I feel sorry for the woman—to birth such a heartless son as you.”

He turned around. If expressions could kill, I’d be dead. “Shut your goddamn mouth.”

I laughed coldly. “What are you going to do? Make me scream? Is that what you did to your mam—”

The air escaped me in a rush as he grabbed me by the throat and pressed my back against the wall.

“You know nothing of my past,” he growled.

His words were different, rougher, than they should have been. It took me a moment to understand the significance while I was trying to catch my breath. And when I did, I stared at him, panting.