“I’ll listen only because I know my role within this family.” He rounds my body and is standing directly opposite me. “But—” I jab a finger into his chest. “Don’t ever manhandle me like that again.”

When I shove past him to get to the front door, he calls out, “Pretty sure you didn’t mind being thrown around a couple weeks ago…”

I pause in my steps before shoving through the doors and huffing out so loudly I’m sure it looks dramatic enough for the soldiers waiting outside.

I slide into the back seat, slamming the door loud enough for Poppy to jump in her seat.

“What happened?” she asks, her eyes wide on me.

“You remember how I told you that my father wouldn’t change him?”

She takes a champagne flute from the center of the side console. “Yes.”

“Well…” I glare at her, ignoring the fact that the door swings open, “…I was mistaken.”

The door slams closed and I’m painfully aware of how close he is to me when his thigh brushes against mine.

Poppy looks between the both of us. “Ah…” She clears her throat. “Is there something I should know?”

“No.” I flash her a smile, shuffling away from Wicked. “Nothing at all.”

Wicked’s hand comes to my knee, squeezing it tightly. “Yeah. Nothing for you to worry about, Pop.”

Poppy’s wary eyes rest on me. “O—kay.” She points to the both of us. “Then why is Revio not taking Ruby?”

Wicked’s grip tenses on my knee. A warning, or a promise. I’m not sure which yet.

I shake my head, my mouth splitting into a wide smile. “It’s complicated.” It isn’t. Something has clearly happened between the two families, and it makes me nervous. The La Rosa and Gambino families have had a close relationship for a long time. Since before Papa and Grandpapa snuck over on the boats years and years ago. Papa is old school, though, where Jo Gambino is new school. Both deadly, but different styles. No doubt if there is some tension between us, the Cupola will have to interfere and no one wants that. Not even Papa.

My phone buzzes in my clutch, and I unlock the hatch, opening to a text from Revio.

“You skipped out on marrying me. You should probably ask your new guard why…” My blood turns to ice as the words replay in my mind before I quickly shut it off and shove it back into my clutch.

“Who was that?” His voice coats over my skin like it belongs there, and for the sixth time since I met Wicked, I wish I didn’t have him so close and near. I like old Wicked. The one who at least smirked when he put his hands down my pants.

I don’t like this one. The one who doesn’t even want to put his hands down my pants.