I picked up the phone and dialed Roman, but before he could answer, the door burst open. Lucia stood in the doorway, looking pissed off.

“So are you just going to lock yourself up in here and not talk to me at all?” She walked inside. “Because you’re giving me fucking whiplash.”

I put the lid of my laptop down just as Roman answered the phone. “Let me call you back.” I got up and closed the door. “You ever hear of knocking?”

“What the hell is going on, Salvatore? What happened this morning? You were fine. We were fine. Then you had that breakfast meeting, and I don’t know. It’s like you keep pulling the fucking rug out from under me!”

“I told you, I’ll give you your freedom as soon as I can. I thought you would want that.”

“This isn’t about that. You can’t just throw that out there. And besides, how long until you’re boss? And what if you change your mind?

I resumed my seat behind the desk but pushed away from it and crossed one ankle over my other knee. “I won’t.”

That silenced her for a second. She just stood there surprised.

“If you want a fight, I’m not in the mood,” I said. “Not now.”

She shifted her weight and folded her arms across her chest. “How about the truth, then? Are you in the mood for that? What is the Luke DeMarco problem you have to take care of?”

I let my gaze run over her. She’d changed into a pale yellow sundress, and I could see she wasn’t wearing a bra underneath. My balls tightened, but I steeled myself. Lucia was fast becoming a weakness. My weakness. I needed to stop this. I meant what I said, that I’d release her from her contract. I needed to take care that when the time came, she wouldn’t look back.

The best way to do that was to be a dick.

I leaned forward and placed my elbows on the desk. “How’s your ass, Lucia?”

“My ass is none of your concern.”

“Show me.”

“Screw you.”

“You want to know about Luke DeMarco?”

She eyed me warily but nodded.

“Fine. He’s stirring up trouble. A lot of it.”

“What did Franco mean when he told you to take care of it?” she asked.

“You aren’t surprised by what I just told you?”

She shrugged a shoulder. “We’ll always be enemies.”

That took me a moment to digest. I decided to push further, see how much she knew.

“Why exactly did your father disown your sister?”

“Because she got pregnant.”

“Doesn’t that seem strange to you? I mean, this is modern day. Women have babies out of wedlock and alone all the time.”

She studied me. What did she know? Did Isabella confide in her? How much?