Inferno(61)

Luca dipped his head further back, a groan of frustration catching in his throat as he exhaled. ‘If I knew that, I wouldn’t be lounging on this bench right now, Sophie.’

‘Are you worried?’ I asked, thinking of Donata and her troops, of all the ways she could hurt the Falcones. ‘About this … blood war?’

‘Yes, I am.’ He turned his attention back to me. ‘But I’m not worrying about my family, Sophie.’

‘Me?’ I ventured.

‘I don’t know what you were doing in Eden, or what your uncle wanted from you. I expect you won’t tell me anyway, but as long as Donata has access to you, as long as she feels you owe her something, you’re in trouble. I don’t know what your uncle bargained for that protection, but I’d bet it had something to do with you.’

The air was pressing down on us, and I could feel my back grow sticky with the rising humidity. ‘But what could I offer her?’

His jaw tightened, drawing hollows beneath his cheekbones. ‘I don’t know.’

‘I can’t give her anything.’

He inched forward, so subtly I barely noticed it, until I could make out the scar above his lip. He narrowed his eyes and asked, ‘Are you sure about that?’

Heat erupted inside me. I felt like I had been caught, but I hadn’t done anything. I knew about the safe, but it wasn’t like it had anything to do with me. It wasn’t like I was going to do anything about it. ‘Yes,’ I said. ‘I’m sure.’

‘Valentino’s looking into you, you know.’

Alarm spread across my face. ‘Why?’

He turned and flopped back on to the bench, exhaling at the sky. ‘My mother’s been in his ear.’

‘Oh.’ What a charmer she is. ‘Well, he’s wasting his time.’

‘Donata’s going to come back for you.’ He said it casually, like it was a conversation about the weather, but it stuck in my throat and I gulped it down, knowing it was true.

‘I’ll be OK,’ I told him. An image of my mother and me cramming our car full of trinkets and duvets popped into my head. ‘I have a plan.’

‘What kind of plan?’

‘The secret kind.’

He pulled himself up. ‘Sophie—’ He stopped, chewing on his words.

‘Yes?’ I prompted.

He frowned at the ground, his lips twisting. He was considering something.

‘What is it, Luca?’

I was about to poke him when he returned his attention to me. Hesitantly, as if the idea was still forming, he said, ‘If you need help, you can ask for it.’ At my surprised silence, he splayed his hands. ‘I mean you can come to us, Sophie. If you need to.’

I almost fell off the bench with shock. ‘What?’ I asked, my eyes bugging out of my head. ‘Are you kidding?’

‘Why would I joke about something like this?’ His expression was stony. ‘I know what Donata Marino does to people who won’t bend to her will. You don’t.’

‘A month ago your family was actively trying to murder me.’

‘I know.’ He paused, his fingers drumming below his bottom lip. ‘But things are different now … We can protect you.’

‘Reluctantly,’ I pointed out, reading his obvious hesitance.

He shook his head. ‘The process will be difficult,’ he told me plainly. ‘I don’t offer our protection lightly. But I offer it nonetheless.’

My shock faded a little, bewilderment rising in its place. I didn’t know exactly what he meant by process, but I could plainly see his offer was real, and important.

‘Why?’ I asked. ‘Why would you want to protect us? It wasn’t that long ago that you hated me.’

‘We didn’t know you then,’ he said, before adding, almost begrudgingly, ‘We didn’t care about you then.’

I clamped my hands together on my lap and felt their clamminess. Something squirmed inside me. ‘So, you care about me now,’ I said, meaning to make a joke of it, but it came out soft and low and full of something guttural that made me embarrassed. ‘Why?’

We both knew what I was really asking. What changed your mind?

Luca angled his body towards me, lost in quiet consideration. We were so close, if I edged forward I’d be right under his chin. Why would I edge forward? What was up with me today? When he spoke I could feel his breath on my cheeks, the only moving air in our bubble of stifling humidity. ‘Because I don’t know anybody like you. You’re like … a rare artefact. And it would be a shame if you got broken.’

Amusement spluttered from me in the most unattractive way. ‘Are you really comparing me to an antique right now? Oh my God, you nerd.’