I was still splayed on the floor. “Antonio, really?”

“Really. It’s like the kids’ shows. When the song comes, the bouncing ball tells you when to sing the words.” He put his hand out to help me up. “Just follow along.”

We crossed the parking lot holding hands, and when we went into the pitch dark garage, he squeezed my hand. I heard men talking and a thup thup sound.

“Follow along,” he said and opened a door in the back.

In a low room decorated in wood paneling and cigarette smoke, a handful of men faced the same direction. Zo crooked his arm and straightened it quickly. A thup followed, and the others reacted by exchanging handslaps and cash.

Darts.

An Italian flag draped one wall. The chairs were wooden and well worn, like the desk and linoleum floor. I recognized a man in a fedora from outside Zia’s restaurant. Silence fell on the room like a lead curtain.

Antonio kissed me on both cheeks, left first, then right. He stared me in the face for a second before facing his crew. “Signori, this is Theresa. Theresa, you’ve met Lorenzo.”

Zo came up to me as if for the first time and took my hand. “Piacere.” He kissed me on each cheek, right then left, and stepped back.

“Otto, you’re still here?” Antonio said.

He stepped forward and took my hand. “Piacere di conoscerla.” He kissed me the same way, left then right.

“Good to meet you,” I said.

“Now go home,” Antonio said. He indicated a man in a checked jacket and receding hairline. “Enzo, meet Theresa.”

“Very nice to meet you,” he said in a clean California accent I wouldn’t have noticed in any other group.

“You, as well.” I counted three more. Fedora was next.

“Niccoló, this is Theresa.”

“Piacere.” He kissed me quickly, in the middle of counting a stack of bills, as if the whole process was inconvenient.

“Nice to meet you, too.”

“Last, Simone, I’d like you to meet Theresa.”

“Good to meet you!” The only blond in the crew, he shook my hand like a car salesman and smiled big, only kissing each cheek when Antonio shot him a look. He did it right then left, and the mix-up meant we almost kissed on the lips. He laughed.

“Enzo, Niccoló,” Antonio said, “go get the half-Armenian strozzino. Call me when you have him. Zo, bring the lady to the little house then pick her up a bag.”

Otto, Enzo, and Nicolo left, chattering in deep voices.

“Antonio,” I said with warning in my voice.

“The ball with the music,” he said. “Please. Call your roommate and tell her Zo’s coming.”

“I have work tomorrow.”

“I hope so.” He whispered in my ear, “I’ll come to you. Just wait.”

Paulie burst in. “Hey! I heard there was a formal introduction.”

“Hi, Paulie,” I said.

“This is Theresa,” Antonio said.

Paulie joyfully kissed my left cheek, then my right, and took me by the shoulders. “Welcome. Good to have you.”

“Thanks,” I said.

Paulie turned to Antonio. “We taking care of the Donna Maria thing?”

“Yes. Let me get Theresa set up, then we’ll talk about it.”

The little house stood up into the foothills behind a hundred feet of allergens. It could have been in the Tennessee mountains for all its foliage and acreage. A skinny kid of about nineteen with an acne problem sat on the porch. He stood when Zo and I drove up.

“Don,” Zo said, “this is Theresa. The boss formally introduced her tonight.”

“Huh,” the kid huffed, as if surprised. “All right, then. Piacere.” His accent was terrible, but he kissed me on both cheeks, left then right.

“Donatello’s gonna be on the porch. He’s keeping his eyes on you so, don’t worry about him.” Zo punched the kid in the arm, and he almost fell over.

“Thanks,” the kid said.

“This is a safe house, isn’t it?” I said.

“Used to be. Now it’s just safe.”

He took me through the two-bedroom house, which looked more lived in than any safe house I’d seen in movies. I saw old world touches all over in the unfinished wood and hand-painted ceramics. The quilt on my bed was deep burgundy, the oil paintings showed seashores and mountains, and the kitchen, the only ultra-modern part of the house, had a basket of fresh fruit on the counter.

“This is Antonio’s house?” I asked.

“Yeah.”

“It’s smaller than my loft.”

Zo shrugged. “He likes it that way.”

“Can you bring Katrina? It’s her I’m worried about.”

“Boss has it covered. He takes care of his people. And after tonight, you’re with us.” Zo kissed me on both cheeks again and left.

“Katrina? Are you all right?”

“I got a shard of swan in my foot, I want you to know.”

I was curled up on a strange couch, in a strange house, with a strange guy on the porch to protect me. I had the news on and muted. The ticker moved, and the heads talked. “There’s a guy coming to get a bag for me. Can you put some stuff in it?”

“Cups? Plates? Saucers? What do you want?”

“Are you okay?” I asked.

“When I’m not crying, I’m fine. God, I botched this.”

“We’ll make it right. I don’t know how, but we will. It’s a good movie.”

“I’m going to my parents in the OC tomorrow. I’ll stay a few days and get my shit together. If he chases me there, my dad will just shoot him.”

“Great plan.”

She sniffed. “Do you want the electric toothbrush? Or a regular one?”

“Regular. I don’t intend to be gone long enough to charge the electric one.”

“Okay. I gotta go. Michael’s coming over.”

“Really?”

Daniel’s face appeared on the screen. The ticker told me he was doing the unprecedented: opening a major case against an organized crime family at the tail end of a mayoral campaign.

“Reckless asshole,” I mumbled.

“Excuse me?”

“Nothing. Have fun with Michael. And, Kat?”

“Yes?”

“There are going to be men around watching you. Stay calm, okay?”

“Jesus, Tee Dray, what are you into?”

“I don’t know, but I think I’m up to my eyeballs.”

I slept on the couch until the navy sky faded into morning cyan. He came to me in a haze of pine and musk. His lips were my awakening, the hard firearm at his back a reflection of the hardness between his legs.

“Capo,” I whispered through my sleep.

“Ah, Contessa. I could barely talk tonight. All I wanted to do was make peace so I could fuck you every day and night.” He pulled up my shirt and kissed my belly.

“Is this about the trouble with your men?”

“Done for now. Tie up loose ends tomorrow.” He pushed up my bra.

I wove my fingers in his hair when he sucked my nipples. “I can go to work?”

“Shh. No talking.” He pulled away and got on his knees, looking at me. He yanked at my skirt and panties, slipping them off. “Spread your legs.” He shrugged out of his jacket and pulled off his shirt. “Touch yourself.” There was a sense of urgency about his manner as he wiggled out of the last of his clothes.

I watched him with my fingers between my legs, stroking my hardened, wet clit. “I want you so bad.” I moaned. “I want you inside me.”

“Shh.” He put his cock at my opening. He thrust forward.

I put my hands on his shoulders, letting the thrust of his hips take me. He took my hands and pinned them to my sides, wrapping his arms around me tight. He pressed the whole of his body to mine as if he was trying to crawl into my skin. If he did, I couldn’t have stopped him. He had me powerless under his weight, restrained by his desire. My legs were free but pinioned by the fulcrum of his cock.

“Every day,” he whispered, “I’ll take you like this. In the morning, before coffee, I fuck you. At night, I fuck you harder. In our bedroom, our living room, our kitchen, I’ll love you in every room. Amore mio, I’ll break you with my love and put you back together. And when I retire, you still call me Capo because you’re mine. Always mine.”