We pulled up alongside the curb of the Italian restaurant, a place Scava owned. It was trendy and popular, and the food sucked, in my opinion. Angus Scava would be inside already. I saw two of his men standing beside his sedan parked at the end of the street.

I turned to Gia, taking in how the tight black dress hugged her, how the heels made her legs look longer. She’d let her hair loose tonight, and it hung down her back. Her eyes shown bright, seeming almost to dance tonight. Alive and buzzing as if adrenaline pumped through her even as we sat there.

I touched the flat of my hand to her heart.

“You’re nervous.”

“Will he know that?”

“No. Not unless he touches you like this, and if he does that, it’ll be the last thing he touches.”

That made her smile.

“You know how to keep your face impassive.”

She nodded.

“I won’t leave your side,” I said.

“Thank you.”

I knocked on the window, and the driver opened the door. I climbed out and saw that my men were already lined up, the number I’d brought matching the number Scava had brought. I didn’t expect war, not tonight, but I knew from years of experience to never be caught unprepared.

I helped Gia out and led her toward the entrance, noting every eye on the street that turned her way, liking it. Liking that every man who passed wanted her on his arm. Knowing every woman felt a little pang of jealousy as they pretended not to notice her.

A man opened the doors, and we entered, followed by two of my men. The space was large and modern but completely empty of patrons tonight. Only a few staff I could hear working in the open kitchen, and Scava sitting at the far booth like he was fucking king.

“Why is it empty?” Gia asked.

I had an idea. “Privacy,” I said, leaving out anything else I suspected.

Angus Scava smiled. He watched us enter, his gaze sliding over Gia as we approached. Sick prick. He was old enough to be her fucking father. Hell, he would have been if his son had stayed alive long enough to marry her.

I felt a note of possession at that. A hint of jealousy. Which was ridiculous, considering James was dead.

“Gianna.” He stood when we neared. “Pleasure to see you.” He took her hand and kissed her knuckles, then straightened. “You look enchanting. My son had wonderful taste.”

She only looked on coldly.

I cleared my throat. Scava turned to me.

“Dominic.”

“Angus.”

He gestured toward the booth. “Please. I’ve taken the liberty of choosing the wine. I hope you don’t mind.”

“Not at all as long as you take the first sip,” Gia said.