His Mafia Prince
Chapter 255: The Eternal City

Chapter 255: The Eternal City

(SASHA)

It is a shock to disembark in Rome after a long flight and hear so much Italian around me. It’s not that I was expecting English—it’s just odd to hear so much Italian when I’m used to snatches here and there.

"We’re never flying coach again," Tyler grumbles after we get through customs. Our fake passports worked beautifully—Miles specials.

"We’re undercover," I point out quietly. "We could hardly live it up in first-class the whole way and then disappear into the crowd."

His only answer is a loud, body-shaking yawn that makes passersby sidestep him. Although it’s only nine a.m., back home, mornings are not Tyler’s preferred time of day. He didn’t sleep on the plane and the nine-hour flight has exhausted him.

I did like the way he held my hand tight on take-off and landing. I’ve been on a few more planes since our first honeymoon and I’m certainly not afraid of flying, but I still don’t like leaving my fate in someone else’s hands.

I’m more excited to be in Italy than I’d ever admit to. Excitement in general is not an emotion I feel often, and not usually outside of private times with Tyler. Now that I’m here, even just in the airport, I can feel a whole new world opening up before me.

I do feel a little naked without any weapons on me. Miles has set up a contact for me if I need anything, and I might just take him up on it. But not on our first day here.

I put my arm around Tyler’s shoulders as we head to the exit, bags in tow. "Come on, baby, this is supposed to be our third honeymoon. Can’t you be a little excited? We’re in Rome. The Eternal City."

"Please don’t break into song or something," he sighs, but then he leans into me. "Fuck it, honey; sing your heart out if you want. You’re right, we’re supposed to be enjoying ourselves. I’m just a little worried that we haven’t heard back from La Contessa yet."

"We will," I assure him, although I have no confidence at all that La Contessa will get our message in the first place, let alone respond, let alone agree to meet. But it’s a reminder that our time in Italy is not primarily meant for pleasure. And I have Adonis business I want to undertake if I can make contact with La Contessa. I’ve set Miles working on that particular problem, while Gloria Donovan reaches out to La Contessa.

In the meantime, all Tyler and I can do is wait, and enjoy Rome

We take a taxi to our hotel—a rundown little place with the smallest double bed I’ve ever seen, but with a view of the Colosseum when I stick my head out of the window and strain hard to the right.

I pull the window closed to keep the cooler air inside the room and see Tyler staring around himself with a twist to his lips. "This is not what I had in mind," he says.

"You booked it," I point out to Tyler. Miles gave us a list of approved hotels for Tyler to pick from, so he only has himself to blame.

It’s a tiny room, made up mostly of bed, and the bed isn’t all that big to start with. There’s a TV, which looks like a first-generation flatscreen, mounted on the wall opposite the bed, and through a thin door, there’s a bathroom with a shower, toilet and sink crowding into each other.

A large air- conditioning unit overhead rattles and shakes when I turn it on. The weather report I checked before departure told me it was still warm in Rome during the days.

Tyler laughs, good-humoured despite his distaste for the accommodation. I think I get the idea that Tyler doesn’t exactly fancy the accommodation. But I’d rather not make him sensitive to that. What matters is that we have a getaway, and we’d better enjoy every minute of it before going back to the chaos of the city.

"You know what? I fucking love it. Let’s pretend we’re broke, honey. That we scrimped and saved to fly coach to Rome and stay in this shitty hotel room. That way the only thing that really matters is—"

"—each other."

The room is so small I can cross to him in two steps, which I do, and then kiss him passionately and thoroughly until he’s melting in my arms. "And as you damn well know, angel, you are the most important thing to me."

I take a shower to get the grime of travel off me, and Tyler claims he’s going to join me, despite the shower being too small for the both of us. But his sleep schedule, already disrupted by all those late nights taking care of me, can’t take the jet lag on top.

He passes out on the bed. Literally passes out—one moment he’s chatting about how we can walk down to see the Colosseum, and then he stops mid-sentence. I glance over my shoulder from where I’m putting a new SIM card into my phone that I bought on the way out of the airport, and see my husband’s adorable face mashed into the pillow, mouth open. After a second he gives a little snuffly snore.

I resist the urge to snap a photo of him like that. He’d never forgive me.

Instead, I log into the hotel Wi-Fi and check the throwaway email account I’ll be using while here. There are no emails except the welcome message, but when I check the drafts folder, there are several informative updates from Miles.

I settle on the bed gently next to Tyler, making sure I have a glimpse of the Colosseum out the window and read over Miles’s emails.

It’s not a perfect start to the vacation—to our third honeymoon, even—but with Tyler beside me and a wonder of the world before me, what else could I possibly need?

I just wish I could shake off this nagging sense of unease.

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