He made his way over. Once we were off the exit, I gave him directions. We weaved our way through the narrow streets near my childhood home.

“Want to get a cup of coffee first?” I asked when we neared my favorite bakery, wanting to put off our inevitable arrival. Afraid Isabella would see right through me. Would I be a traitor then?

He seemed surprised by my offer. “Sure.”

“Right here, you can park at the curb. The parking lot is usually full.” And I wanted to walk through the streets, see the houses and neighborhood I didn’t realize I’d missed. “You don’t mind walking a few blocks, do you?” I asked once we climbed out.

“No, it’s fine.” Salvatore pushed a button to lock the car and looked around. “I’m curious where you grew up. This is very different from what I imagined.”

Wayne, Pennsylvania, was a pretty suburb. Quiet. Wealthy. And, apart from the mob family living there, safe.

I slung my purse over my shoulder and glanced up at the sky. Clouds collected thick and heavy with moisture. It had to be ninety degrees already. As much as I hated rain, I’d welcome it today to cool things down.

Salvatore came to my side, his attention still on the surroundings. He wore a navy T-shirt and jeans, and I had no idea how he wasn’t sweating his ass off. My tank top and shorts seemed stuck to me.

“What did you imagine?” I asked as I led the way, liking the fact that most of the houses looked just like they had five years ago.

Salvatore turned his blue eyes my way. Would I always become breathless when he looked at me?

“I don’t know. A castle with a moat.”

I chuckled. “That’s your family. We were more…low-key.” I thought about it. “My father kept us out of things. He wasn’t meant to rule the family, my uncle was. But when my grandfather and uncle were killed, he was forced to take over. I remember it happening. Well, remember all the meetings, all the people who were suddenly in our house all the time. I was maybe ten.” They’d told my sister and me that they’d had a car accident, but I knew better. I’d snuck into my father’s study and had seen the photos of the bullet-riddled car. Of them inside it. I shuddered. Some things you couldn’t un-see, no matter how much you wanted to. “I remember not being allowed to play in the front yard or bike through the neighborhood anymore.”

“Your father didn’t have control of the family.”

I stopped.

Salvatore turned to me.