Maybe by then, Nardo would arrive with my food and I could eat on our way to the next interview.

Just as the thought filtered through my mind, my stomach gave another angry growl and I touched my hand to my abdomen with a small groan, but I tried to focus on what Garik was saying so I could translate for him. The door opened, causing all conversation in the room to halt abruptly as all eyes went to the newcomer.

Ryan walked in like he owned the place, and honestly, I didn’t know if he did or not. His family was into a little bit of everything, and for all I knew, they could have stock in radio just as easily as they could have in any other communication medium. Dressed in another tailored suit and with his long coat open, he commanded the room with nothing more than the powerful aura emanating from him. The host’s mouth dropped open, his eyes nearly bugging out of his head as he watched Ryan cross to me and place a brown paper bag in front of me with my favorite deli’s logo on it.

There were no other seats in the room, so he lifted me and sat, pulling me onto his lap. “Eat,” he commanded. I didn’t argue. Opening the bag, I pulled out the ham and cheese grinder and bit into it.

Ryan motioned to the host. “I apologize for the interruption. Please continue. I will be happy to translate.”

Hoping Emmie wouldn’t get mad at me for the interruption, I glanced at the window to see what her reaction was. Her green eyes were narrowed on us all, but when she caught my gaze, she smirked for a moment and gave me a thumbs-up, mouthing, “Nice.”

The man stumbled over himself for a moment before shaking his head as if to clear it and asking the question he’d started to ask before the interruption. Ryan listened intently, then shifted his gaze to Garik and repeated it in perfect Russian. While he spoke, my eyes stayed glued to his lips. He was the reason I’d gotten so interested in learning different languages. Listening to him speak, no matter if it was English, Italian, or Russian, was one of my favorite things. I could do it for hours and never once get tired of hearing his voice, the way his accent changed with each language, how confident he was when he spoke.

It was both soothing and sexy all at the same time.

I was so entranced by it, I stopped eating just to listen and watch his lips form each word. Without pausing, Ryan wiped a smear of mayo from the corner of my mouth then licked his thumb clean. “Eat,” he commanded quietly, turning his mouth away from the microphone so no one else could hear. “Nardo said that Pietro was concerned you were hungry. I don’t like you going without meals, my heart.”

Sighing, I took another bite of my sandwich and got lost in listening to him talk again. The others in the room were nervous yet in awe as they kept their eyes locked on him. No one spoke his name, but there was no doubt they knew exactly who he was. In New York, the Vitucci family was treated like royalty.