little scared. Who wouldn’t be? She knew that Diesel wouldn’t see her as weak if she admitted that she didn’t want to die. But she remembered something that Fausto had written to her.
The only lies that matter are the ones we tell ourselves.
She was determined to believe that she could fix the situation. She had to believe that she was good enough and confident enough to make sure no one hurt her or her brother. Besides, she hadn’t been sitting on her ass for the last eighteen months.
She had done a lot for many people. It was time to call in some favors.
Chapter Twelve
Bright and early the next morning, Caprice staggered down the steps. The only reason she’d climbed out of bed was because she smelled coffee and bacon. Maria was cooking and Caprice couldn’t be happier. The only thing she missed about not living with Nico anymore was Maria’s cooking.
“Morning, sis,” Caprice greeted Maria. “Where’s my brother?”
Maria was taking a tray of scones out of the oven. The kitchen counters were covered with grocery bags, fresh vegetables, and a variety of fresh herbs. Caprice sighed deeply and poured herself a cup of coffee.
Maria had probably gotten up at the crack of dawn and had bought enough food to feed an army. She was nervous, Caprice observed. Maria always cooked like a crazy person when she was nervous.
“Nico went to Staten Island to pack up my stuff,” Maria answered Caprice’s question.
“Why are you cooking all this food?”
“You guys are not going to cook for yourselves, so I’m making what I can and freezing it.”
Caprice took another sip of coffee and the jolt of caffeine awakened her brain. Maria’s words immediately started to make sense.
“Nico went to Staten Island without me? Who was with him?”
“I don’t know, Caprice.”
There was sharpness to Maria’s words. Caprice figured that she was still angry from last night’s argument. It didn’t matter. Even being loved down by her man didn’t change Caprice’s stance on going to a safe house. She still wasn’t leaving New York.
“And you’re cooking like this because we’re staying in this house, right?” Caprice guessed.
“That’s what your brother says. He has Mateo and Giovanni bringing some of your stuff from your condo too.”
“Noooo!” Caprice shouted in horror. She couldn’t imagine Mateo and Giovanni handling her expensive clothes and shoes. She cringed at the thought of her BCBG and Dolce & Gabbana being stuffed in bags or thrown in suitcases without proper care.
“Maria!” she whined. “They’re going to ruin my clothes! How would they even know what to bring? Besides, Diesel lives there too! He can bring my stuff.”
Maria ignored Caprice’s outburst and began chopping garlic on a huge wooden cutting board.
“Talk to your brother,” she said. “In the meantime, you’re going to need to hire staff for this place. I don’t know how long you’re going to be staying here, but this house is too big for you to handle alone. Gabriella had a great service she used. You should call them.”
“Can’t you do that?” Caprice whined. “What do I know about hiring maids and shit?”
Maria sighed. “I won’t have time. Nico and I are leaving for Oregon tonight. Go in the study and find the number. I’m sure the number is saved on Gabriella’s rolodex.”
That was the last thing Caprice planned on doing. Caprice was a Boss, not a damn housewife. Though, she did understand why the Bonatelli estate was the best place for her and Nico to stay while they got things sorted out.
“Before you do that,” Maria said, “you might want to put some real clothes on.”
“I’m chillin’.”
“Rocco is on his way up here. Nico said the two of you needed to talk.”
“Fuck!”
Caprice groaned and turned up her nose at the idea of talking to Rocco. She had made a point not to speak to Rocco, not to see Rocco, and not to think about Rocco. But she did go upstairs to throw
The only lies that matter are the ones we tell ourselves.
She was determined to believe that she could fix the situation. She had to believe that she was good enough and confident enough to make sure no one hurt her or her brother. Besides, she hadn’t been sitting on her ass for the last eighteen months.
She had done a lot for many people. It was time to call in some favors.
Chapter Twelve
Bright and early the next morning, Caprice staggered down the steps. The only reason she’d climbed out of bed was because she smelled coffee and bacon. Maria was cooking and Caprice couldn’t be happier. The only thing she missed about not living with Nico anymore was Maria’s cooking.
“Morning, sis,” Caprice greeted Maria. “Where’s my brother?”
Maria was taking a tray of scones out of the oven. The kitchen counters were covered with grocery bags, fresh vegetables, and a variety of fresh herbs. Caprice sighed deeply and poured herself a cup of coffee.
Maria had probably gotten up at the crack of dawn and had bought enough food to feed an army. She was nervous, Caprice observed. Maria always cooked like a crazy person when she was nervous.
“Nico went to Staten Island to pack up my stuff,” Maria answered Caprice’s question.
“Why are you cooking all this food?”
“You guys are not going to cook for yourselves, so I’m making what I can and freezing it.”
Caprice took another sip of coffee and the jolt of caffeine awakened her brain. Maria’s words immediately started to make sense.
“Nico went to Staten Island without me? Who was with him?”
“I don’t know, Caprice.”
There was sharpness to Maria’s words. Caprice figured that she was still angry from last night’s argument. It didn’t matter. Even being loved down by her man didn’t change Caprice’s stance on going to a safe house. She still wasn’t leaving New York.
“And you’re cooking like this because we’re staying in this house, right?” Caprice guessed.
“That’s what your brother says. He has Mateo and Giovanni bringing some of your stuff from your condo too.”
“Noooo!” Caprice shouted in horror. She couldn’t imagine Mateo and Giovanni handling her expensive clothes and shoes. She cringed at the thought of her BCBG and Dolce & Gabbana being stuffed in bags or thrown in suitcases without proper care.
“Maria!” she whined. “They’re going to ruin my clothes! How would they even know what to bring? Besides, Diesel lives there too! He can bring my stuff.”
Maria ignored Caprice’s outburst and began chopping garlic on a huge wooden cutting board.
“Talk to your brother,” she said. “In the meantime, you’re going to need to hire staff for this place. I don’t know how long you’re going to be staying here, but this house is too big for you to handle alone. Gabriella had a great service she used. You should call them.”
“Can’t you do that?” Caprice whined. “What do I know about hiring maids and shit?”
Maria sighed. “I won’t have time. Nico and I are leaving for Oregon tonight. Go in the study and find the number. I’m sure the number is saved on Gabriella’s rolodex.”
That was the last thing Caprice planned on doing. Caprice was a Boss, not a damn housewife. Though, she did understand why the Bonatelli estate was the best place for her and Nico to stay while they got things sorted out.
“Before you do that,” Maria said, “you might want to put some real clothes on.”
“I’m chillin’.”
“Rocco is on his way up here. Nico said the two of you needed to talk.”
“Fuck!”
Caprice groaned and turned up her nose at the idea of talking to Rocco. She had made a point not to speak to Rocco, not to see Rocco, and not to think about Rocco. But she did go upstairs to throw
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