AllFreeNovel
Share Us
He won’t even meet me and tell me to my face. I cannot believe it.
I settle up and I’m just out on the sidewalk texting Mikey to say come get me, when the limo pulls right up beside me.
The door pops open and I’m still looking at my phone as I absently get in.
I should have known. Mikey never stays in his seat to pop the door. He always gets out to open it for me.
Immediately the car jerks forward. My phone almost slips out of my hand as I’m thrown back into the seat.
Mikey’s not driving me. I know before I even look.
This is not my car.
CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO
While I’m still off balance, a gloved hand with a surgeon’s skill removes my phone.
Pale grey blue eyes shine into mine. Two pairs. Two men.
Dressed in black with ski masks, they both have small automatics pointed at me. They move down the limo to sit in front of me. As they look into my eyes, I know that I’ve seen them before. I try to look ahead and avoid more direct eye contact. But it’s hard to fight my nature.
I’m about to move when one of them tells me, “Keep your hands open and in sight.”
The other one says, “And away from your pockets.”
Glaring back at them with defiance, I tip my chin up. The long car sways as it cuts through the traffic.
Somewhere in all the mob functions, the funerals and weddings, sit-downs and dockside meets, I’ve met these two men. I know them. I know their rough, feral scent, and I know their quick, sharp eyes.
I’ve been close enough to register their traces, their earthy mix of testosterone and something like a damp forest at night. Their names will come to me soon.
Their names will pop up from my memory like Rolodex cards, I know that they will. Keeping eye contact risks them sensing when I recognize them. But I can’t make myself act like I’m afraid of them. I cannot allow them to think they can intimidate me.
That’s probably the smarter instinct. Scratch a man and there’s an animal not too deep below. Mob muscle, even mob aristocracy like I think these could be, the animal is near enough to the surface that it’s ready to break out at any moment.
And if they smell fear, the gleams in their eyes and their teeth and claws will be the last things I see. I know it.
I have an animal just like it, quite near the surface of my own skin. But that’s it. I know now.
As soon as I distracted myself and thought about something else, their pictures and names flashed up in the back of my mind like index cards. I manage not to smile, but I before I can stop myself, I draw in a breath of satisfaction. It’s obvious.
The pale blue gray of their eyes, like lilac. Both the same liquid hue. The same eyes. Dario and Ettore. The Romano twins.
They carry a double reputation for ruthlessness. Cruelty without a second thought. Ski masks mean they probably don’t aim to kill me, though it’s no guarantee. That might change if they sense that I’ve identified them.
My phone rings. The man holding it looks down at the screen. It’s lit up with a picture of Carlo. The man’s finger waves over the red button to reject the call. A delicious sensation of present danger lights up in me as he turns his head and raises his eyebrow.
He’s asking permission. I can almost hear the Sicilian accent in his gesture. ‘Posso?’
Tight lipped, I hold out my hand. He doesn’t want to speak more than he has to. Doesn’t want to risk giving himself away.
He passes the phone back to me. I press the green button and lift the phone to my ear. “Carlo?”
“Princess.” The sound of his voice, next to my ear, sets off a simmering, deep in my gut. I take a breath to savor the feeling before I tell him, “Carlo, I’ll call you later.”
Tension, an urgency slides into his tone. “Are you okay, princess?”
I look back at the Romano brothers. From one pair of eyes to the other, and back. And I smile.
