Sempre: Redemption (Forever Series #2)(86)

He blanched, nodding, suddenly too terrified to reply.

“I mean it,” Corrado warned. “Don’t even breathe too loud.”

Reaching for his phone, Corrado answered it as he brought it to his ear. “Hello, Haven.”

And just like that, the air flew from Carmine’s lungs. Corrado narrowed his eyes at him as he let out a shuddering breath, but he couldn’t help it. The room felt smaller, stifling, suffocating.

He wanted to puke. He wanted to cry. He wanted to sucker punch his uncle and snatch the f**king phone from him just to hear her voice one more time.

But he did nothing. He merely sat there, staring across the desk, straining his ears in hopes to hear something, anything . . . just a part of her again.

“I just called to tell you I’d be away for a while,” Corrado said. “It’s nothing to be concerned about, but I may be out of touch for a few months.”

Corrado was silent as he listened to her response. He pulled his phone from his ear after a moment, laying it on his desk as he pressed a button on the screen. Carmine’s stomach sunk, figuring he had hung up, until he heard her sigh through the line. It was subtle, barely inaudible, but it was there. Speakerphone.

“How’s school?” Corrado asked, sounding disinterested, his eyes glued to Carmine as he asked the question.

“It’s, uh, good,” Haven replied. “The new semester starts tomorrow. I’m all signed up for my classes.”

“That’s great.” Corrado tapped his fingers against the desk. “I hope you’re enjoying yourself and making friends.”

“I am.”

“Good,” Corrado said. “I’m glad you’re well. Take care of yourself.”

“You, too, sir.”

Carmine closed his eyes as his uncle pushed another button, this time ending the call. They sat in silence for a moment before Corrado addressed him. “I’m not going to be around to keep an eye on you, Carmine, so you better stay straight.”

“Where are you going?”

“Jail.”

Carmine blinked a few times. “What?”

“They’re revoking my bail as we speak,” he explained. “They think I had something to do with your father going missing.”

After a strangled bout of silence, Carmine forced the million-dollar question from his lips. “Did you?”

Corrado waved his hand, turning back to his stack of paperwork. “You’re dismissed, Carmine.”

29

The moment Corrado stepped in his house later that night, the succulent aroma of marinara assaulted his senses. He took a deep breath, inhaling it as he strolled toward the kitchen. Celia stood in front of the stove, the sleeves of her blouse rolled up to her elbows and her usually pristine hair pulled back in a sloppy bun. A blue apron was tied around her, protecting her clothes from splatter as she stirred the homemade sauce.

Corrado silently watched her, a ghost of a smile tugging his lips. She hadn’t heard him come in and continued to concentrate on her cooking, oblivious to her husband’s presence. Corrado loved these moments, when Celia was in her element and the world around her faded away. She glowed radiantly, beaming like the sun as she floated along. It was what had drawn him to her in the first place—her ability to bring light into such a devastatingly dark world.

He would miss it. There was no doubt about it. His world would soon be a much colder place.

He let out a deep sigh, not wanting to think about what would come tomorrow, and Celia jumped at the noise. Dropping her spoon, she spun around and clutched her chest. “You scared me! I didn’t know you were home.”

Corrado’s smile grew, but he said nothing as he took a few steps toward her. Carefully, he untied the apron from around her waist, and Celia eyed him skeptically as he tossed it aside. He reached up and tugged on the band securing her hair, making it fall loose. It was messy, an unruly wave cascading past her shoulders.

“What are you doing?” Celia asked as he took her hand.

“Taking you upstairs,” he said, “and getting you out of those clothes.”

She tried to dig in her heels to make him stop, but he was much stronger than her. “Corrado, hold on! I’m cooking!”

“So?”

“So my sauce might burn!”

“You can make more later.”

“But the stove is on!”

“Who cares?”

“Who cares?” she asked incredulously as he pulled her toward the stairs. “What if it catches on fire?”

“Then I’ll buy you a new stove.”

“It could burn down the whole house!”

“Then I’ll build you a new house.”

She laughed with disbelief. “It’ll burn down with us in it, Corrado.”

He glanced at her, cocking an eyebrow. “Do you really think I’d let that happen?”

Her comeback was snappy. “Do you really think you could stop it?”

Corrado was momentarily silent, still clutching her wrist as they stood near the bottom of the stairs. He pondered her question. Did he think he could stop it?

“Bellissima, I’d stop time for you. I’d give you the moon and the stars; I’d learn to defy gravity. There’s nothing I wouldn’t do, nobody I wouldn’t kill, if you asked me to. If you needed me to. Saving you from a fire would be nothing, purely instinct.”