Chapter 6
763 Words
CHAPTER SIX
MRS. LEONARDO
Lina woke up to the smell of something burning.
She opened one eye.
The room was quiet. Sunlight slipped through the curtains, painting warm stripes across the enormous bedroom she still hadn't gotten used to.
Then came another smell.
Burning.
Lina sat up.
“Victor?”
Nothing.
She threw the blanket aside and hurried downstairs, nearly tripping over the last step.
Victor was standing in the kitchen.
The mafia boss.
The terrifying businessman.
The man whose employees seemed to forget how to breathe whenever he entered a room.
He was staring at a frying pan like it had personally betrayed him.
Lina stopped.
“What are you doing?”
Victor glanced over his shoulder.
“Breakfast.”
She looked at the pan.
Then at him.
Then back at the pan.
“That isn't breakfast.”
Victor frowned. “It was.”
“What happened?”
“I followed the instructions.”
“Which instructions?”
He lifted his phone.
“Video tutorial.”
Lina walked closer.
A piece of toast sat beside the pan, black enough to qualify as a weapon.
She covered her mouth.
Victor's eyes narrowed.
“Don't.”
“I didn't say anything.”
“You're laughing.”
“I am breathing.”
“Very loudly.”
That did it.
Lina burst out laughing.
Victor stared at her for several seconds before shaking his head.
“You're ungrateful.”
She leaned against the counter, still laughing. “You nearly murdered toast.”
“It was already dead.”
“Victor!”
His mouth twitched.
Lina noticed.
She pointed at him.
“Was that a smile?”
“No.”
“That was absolutely a smile.”
“You're imagining things.”
She stepped closer and inspected the pan.
“Move.”
“I can cook.”
“Your toast has charcoal.”
Victor reluctantly stepped aside.
Lina took over, pushing him away with her hip.
“Go sit down.”
“I can help.”
“You've done enough.”
He looked offended.
“I was trying to make breakfast for my wife.”
That stopped her.
Lina looked at him.
“My wife?”
Victor's expression softened.
“Is there another woman here?”
She looked around the huge kitchen.
“No.”
“Then I assume I meant you.”
Something warm fluttered in her chest.
Lina turned quickly toward the stove.
“Don't get sentimental before breakfast.”
“I wasn't.”
“You called me your wife.”
“You are my wife.”
She glanced at the ring on her finger.
The gold band still felt strangely new.
Not because they hadn't been together long enough.
Because everything about this life still felt unreal.
A new country.
A new home.
A new surname.
A husband whose life seemed to contain approximately seventeen mysteries per day.
Lina placed breakfast on two plates.
Victor took his seat.
She sat across from him.
For once, there were no arguments.
No father.
No warnings.
No conversations about whether Victor was dangerous.
Just the two of them eating breakfast in a kitchen that still smelled faintly of burnt toast.
Victor took a bite.
Lina watched him.
“Well?”
He chewed thoughtfully.
“Acceptable.”
Her mouth fell open.
“Acceptable?”
“You cooked it.”
“Get out of my kitchen.”
Victor's laugh came suddenly, low and brief.
Lina stared.
There it was again.
That rare sound she loved more than she wanted to admit.
She smiled despite herself.
Victor reached across the table and stole a piece of toast from her plate.
“Hey!”
“You weren't eating it.”
“I was!”
“Too late.”
Lina tried grabbing it.
Victor pulled his hand away.
“Victor!”
He looked entirely too pleased with himself.
For someone who supposedly ran a terrifying empire, he was remarkably childish when it came to stealing breakfast.
Lina leaned back in her chair.
“Fine. Keep it.”
“Thank you.”
“I'm going to remember this.”
“I'm terrified.”
“You should be.”
Victor raised an eyebrow.
Lina smiled sweetly.
And for the first time since she'd left home, she didn't feel like a daughter who had abandoned her family.
She simply felt like Lina.
His wife.
A woman building a life somewhere new.
She didn't know yet how complicated that life would become.
For that morning, though, she had her husband, her breakfast, and a piece of toast she fully intended to steal back.
It was enough.
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