Page 31 of Queen of Misfortune (Shadows of Redemption)

"Something like that." I cross the threshold. "Do you have a phone I could use? I need to make a call about Giuseppe’s funeral."

He leans back, studying me like he’s assessing whether I’m telling the truth or not. It occurs to me that he’s likely as suspicious of me as I am of him.

I hug myself, feeling the chill of the room, or perhaps it's the coldness of guilt seeping into my bones. My relationship with Giuseppe was never the stuff of fairy tales, but we had a mutual respect and affection. So why does the memory of Donovan’s kiss feel like a betrayal?

He stands, stretches. “You can use this one.” He motions to the phone on his desk. He steps around the desk and heads to the door.

"Thank you, Niko."

Alone now, I approach the desk. The phone sits there, but I hesitate. Most people take phones for granted, but in my world, the phone could be a lifesaver or a killer. It had been a phone call that had tipped my father off about Dylan.

My hand hovers before the phone. Giuseppe would have laughed at my hesitation. “My little shrew isn’t afraid of anyone or anything,” he used to joke. Being called a shrew is offensive, except Giuseppe said it with such affection.

I’d told him all about Elena's predicament, the danger she faced, and when she vanished, taken by a rival family, he encouraged me to come to Elena.

"Take care of her," he had said, his voice weak but resolute. Had he known then that he wasn’t long for this world? Is that why he sent me? He didn’t want me to be around when he passed? Or is that thought to relieve the guilt I have for not being with him in his last days?

I push all the thoughts aside, focusing on the task at hand—contacting Luca. I press the numbers and listen as the phone rings. But when the call connects, it’s not Luca. It’s his voicemail.

"Luca, it's Lucy. Just checking in," I begin, feeling unsure as to what to say. Luca was always kind to me, but that was probably because I was good to Giuseppe and Giuseppe cared for me. Would Luca’s kindness continue now that Giuseppe is gone? "I wanted to discuss… Giuseppe's arrangements. I, ah…” I have no way for him to call me back except through Niko. “I’m with Elena at Don Niko Leone’s.” Hopefully, Luca will know how to reach Niko. I remember that Niko had once commented that he knew Luca.

I replace the receiver and stand alone in Niko’s office. There’s nothing to do now except go back upstairs and try to sleep. I decide a glass of wine might help with that, so I make a stop in the kitchen to pour a glass and then return to my room.

When I close my door and look at my bed, the sheets a mess from my restlessness, I decide a warm bath might help me settle down.

In the bathroom, I run the water in the large tub and uncap the lavender oil, putting a few drops in. I take my robe and nightgown off and submerge myself into the warm, fragrant water. I drink several sips of wine and then close my eyes, letting the warmth sink into my bones. I focus on the tranquil scent of lavender to clear my mind of worries and Donovan. Instead, he lingers like a ghost, haunting me.

Why? Of all the men I could find myself drawn to, why big, rude, Toady Donovan?

I think about Dylan and his tentative and sweet kisses. Sometimes, we touched each other through clothes, in a sweet innocence. But that had been it. And as lovely as it was, it wasn’t anything like what I felt at Donovan’s touch. Dylan was like slow, liquid wax, whereas Donovan was like a blowtorch, sending fire through my blood.

My heart races from the undeniable truth—Donovan didn’t just kiss me. He ignited something fierce and raw, something I can't douse with reason or will away with stubborn denials. Which isn’t to say that I’ll ever kiss him again, because I won’t. Never again will I allow him to use my feelings to humiliate me.

The lavender's soothing scent weaves through the steam, but it does nothing to calm the storm Donovan has stirred inside me. I close my eyes, and there he is—Donovan, with his stormy gaze and the hint of danger in his touch. The firm fullness of his mouth. The sensations he sent roaring through me when he rubbed his hand over my nipple. The way his arousal pressed against my belly. The fantasy unfurls so clearly, it’s like he’s here. His hands roam with intent, touching me here, there, everywhere.

A sigh escapes me as I settle into the memory. But where Donovan abruptly walks out in reality, in my mind, he stays. He continues to kiss and touch me. And I touch back.

My hand slides down my chest, pinching my nipples as I imagine Donovan doing the same. Sweet sensation flows through me. I may be a virgin, but I know pleasure and I seek it now. Donovan’s lips on mine. His hands fondling my breasts. Each kiss, each touch building up the tension as I slide my hand down to my clit and stroke it.

A gasp escapes, and for a moment I stop. I think about the wisdom of pleasuring myself in Niko’s home. Are there cameras or microphones? I look around and decide I’m being paranoid.

The image of Donovan returns. His beguiling smirk. His hard hands.

I rub my clit, faster, harder. The tension coils, tightens to the brink of shattering, and then I tumble over into bliss.

In the aftermath, I lie still and the self-deprecation rolls in. What have I done? I’m such an idiot, indulging in fantasies about a man who doesn’t see me as a person. A man who represents everything I despise. A man who could destroy me without even trying.

Now angry from the emotional chaos Donovan has sown within me, I rise from the bath. I consider a shower as if I could wash away the longing and the guilt. Realizing I can’t, I dry off and put my nightgown back on.

I finish my wine and climb into bed, closing my eyes. Of course, Donovan is there, but this time, I focus on all that I’d like to do to the man to torture him. To wipe that smug smirk off his face. When I fall asleep, he’s begging me… no, not to live, but for me to make him come.

10

LUCIA

The next morning, I have breakfast with Elena in her room. The sun is out, filling the room with a warm glow.

It’s still not as radiant as Elena, whose hand gently rubs the swell of her belly. “Thank God these little ones let me keep my food down.”