As we pull up to the house, and Damian parks the car, I nod toward the man standing at the front door. “Emilio.” I tell Luca. “The one at the gate was Tony.”
“Emilio. Tony.” He repeats.
“Rosa’s waiting for us inside.”
Luca grinds his teeth and nods. “How . . . how do I call her? Do I have a pet name for her?”
Something squeezes in my chest upon hearing his question. “You call her ‘piccola,’” I choke out and take his hand in mine.
“And you?”
I blink in confusion. “Me?”
“Yes,” he says and passes his free hand through my hair. “Do I have a pet name for you as well?”
I bite my lip, and stare into his eyes, then whisper. “You sometimes called me ‘tesoro.’”
Luca nods and leans forward. “Thank you, tesoro.”
“You’re welcome.” I choke out, barely able to keep my emotions at bay.
When we
