Rosa shoved him in the chest. Though her strength was nowhere near enough to budge his massive frame, Luciano stepped back of his own accord. He was caught off guard by the raw agony etched into her features—a look of brokenness he wasn't accustomed to seeing on her face.
Ignoring him, Rosa reached into the closet and snatched a knee-length dress—an old piece of her own wardrobe left behind five years ago when she was still Mrs. Mancini. Luciano pulled up his pants, watching her silently; his gaze was calculating as he tried to decipher the shift in her demeanor. She retreated into the bathroom to wash away the remnants of their encounter, closing the door with a sharp thud that signaled she was still upset. Left alone, Luciano’s eyes immediately fell on Rosa’s handbag.
He remembered her
