“I want to set up the room before he arrives.”

“Fine. I’ll go get my purse. Call me when you’re done and everything’s okay.”

“I will. I promise.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Rina brushed him off. “Isn’t marriage about promising to love, honor, and obey?”

“Something like that,” Decker told her. “And if I must brag, I’d say I’ve been pretty good with my vows.”

“Pretty good at the first two,” Rina admitted. “It’s the third that seems to trip you up.”

CHAPTER TWO

STRAIGHT OUT OF a Diego Rivera painting, he showed up with an enormous bouquet of calla lilies that took up most of his upper body. Size for size, Decker matched every inch of Christopher Donatti’s six-foot four-inch frame.

“You shouldn’t have.” Before Chris could register surprise, Decker took the flowers, tossed them on the marble counter near the door, and then turned him around, pushing him until he was flat against the wall. Decker’s movements were hard and rapid. He pressed the nose of his Beretta into the base of the man’s skull. “Sorry, Chris, but she just doesn’t completely trust you right now.”

Donatti said nothing as Decker patted him down. The man was packing good-quality pieces: the tools of his trade. He had an S&W automatic in his belt and a small .22-caliber Glock pistol in a hidden compartment in his boot. With his own standard-issue Beretta still at Donatti’s neck, Decker picked his pocket, tossing his wallet on the counter. He told him to take off his shoes, his belt, and his watch.

“My watch?”

“You know how it is, Chris. Everything these days is micro-mini. Who knows what you’re hiding inside?”

“It’s a Breguet.”

“I don’t know what that is, but it sounds expensive.” Decker relieved him of the gold timepiece. It was incredibly heavy. “I’m not stealing it. I’m just checking it out.”

“It’s a skeleton watch. Open up the back and you can see the movement.”

“Hmm…it’s not going to explode on me, is it?”

“It’s a watch, not a weapon.”

“In your hands, everything’s a weapon.”

Donatti didn’t deny that. Decker told him to keep his hands up and his body against the wall. He slowly backed up a few inches to give himself some room. With an eye on his hands at all times, Decker began to remove the ammo from Donatti’s guns.

“You can turn around but keep your hands up.”

“You’re the boss.”

He rotated his body until they were face-to-face. Stripped of his weapons, Chris seemed impassive. There was flatness in his eyes; blue without any luminosity. It was impossible to tell if he was angry or amused.