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Chapter 219
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2025-04-02 18:00:04Leah's POV
The supermarket fluorescents buzzed like angry hornets. I trailed Liam past pyramids of canned beans, his boots squeaking against linoleum. He moved like a feral cat—all coiled tension and sideways glances. The discount rack called to him like a siren.
"Jackpot," he muttered, scooping armfuls of spaghetti boxes into the cart. The packaging screamed ITALIANA AUTENTICA! in Comic Sans. I snorted. Authentic as his leather jacket's "genuine pleather" tag.
"Grandma's got expensive taste in hospice care, huh?" I nudged a box with my elbow. The noodles rattled like dried bones. "Why not buy her real food now that you're rolling in mobster cash?"
He didn't look up. "Nonna'd skin me alive if I wasted good dollars on truffle oil when Barilla's ninety cents." The cart shuddered as he dumped another box. "Besides, spaghetti's her love language. Ate it every Thursday with Papa Enzo before the cirrhosis got him."
I let my claws retract just enoug
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