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CHAPTER 1
Zakiya
Quivering fingers cling to my hand, pulling my attention away from the stately door we stand before. The little girl the hand belongs to doesn’t complain or whimper, yet her fear shrouds us in despair.
She has good reason to be afraid.
We shouldn’t be here. Here is the DeLuca mansion. Not the mayoral one the community nicknamed after the mayor, but the real deal DeLuca mansion where the local mafia don resides.
The pair of guardian lion statues flanking the door doesn’t do much to ease the girl’s fear. Instead of security, they emit danger and power. She stares wide-eyed at the granite giants, frozen in place. I wish I could offer her the comfort of a hug, but the simple embrace is beyond me and more than she can handle after her ordeal.
Instead, I squeeze her hand. “You’re going to be okay. No matter what, I’ll protect you.”
She pins me with her dark blue gaze, full of faith in me and my ability to prevent more harm from befalling her. To be honest, it’s her desperation that prevents me from handing her over to the man who owns this veritable castle. And I’ve tried. Somany times. But one look at her causes something inexplicable to come over me, and my plan to drop her off without a backward glance so I can return to my life goes up in smoke.
She makes a joke of my determination to lead the life of a hermit. Not that I’ve accomplished my goal yet. I still rely on others’ aid for my special hobbies, and there’s one woman I haven’t been able to lose since we were in middle school. I call her Dory, although that’s not her name. She claims to be my best friend and pops up out of nowhere like the overly positive amnesiac fish. Although I’ve told her stalkers can’t befriend their victims, she doesn’t heed my opinion.
She ignored me when we were twelve. She ignores me now, despite us being thirty-five and me making very valid arguments about why we’re not friends.
Every time I’m about to enact my strategy, something or someone comes along to put it on hold or laugh in my face. This time, it’s this little girl who’s sidelined my most recent scheme testing my ability to live in solitude. But I’m trying, dammit!
The little girl doesn’t speak, but I sense she is in the midst of an internal battle where victory means she temporarily holds her terror at bay. A long time ago, fear was also my constant companion, breathing over my shoulder and whispering evil omens in my ear whenever people looked too closely at me.
It took time, but the year I turned seventeen, the man whose voice terrorized me and whose specter haunted me no longer fazed me. With few exceptions, I was invisible to the outside world. A lot of freedom comes from not being seen. As a nerdy, fat, Black girl, some gravitate to justifying their humanity. Not me. I want people to look through me.
I don’t just have curves. My breasts are so large they require industrial-strength bras to defy gravity, and my ass… My ass is big, round, and a lethal weapon in its own right. And unlike a lot of other big women who have small waists, my stomach and lovehandles make a mockery of shape wear. One blessing I have in the incognito department is my height. At five-two and with the right wardrobe, I’m easy to overlook.
I haven’t grown out of my teenage desire to blend into the background and still don’t want people looking at me. But I have no choice now. The six-year-old clinging to me with a desperation reminding me of a time I thought long forgotten won’t let me disappear.
Why hasn’t someone come to the door yet? Sansone DeLuca has a massive staff of servants and security. Granted, I slipped past the security to get us to this point, but the information I have suggests the staff should be here. I’d rather someone open the door before the guards complete their next round and find us where we’re not supposed to be.
I glance at my smartwatch. We have another minute before we have to disappear and try a different residence or return another day. I sigh, causing the little girl to look up at me with a question in her eyes.
“Looks like it’s you and me for another night, kid. That alright with you?”
She turns my words over before solemnly nodding her agreement.
The organ in my chest that I thought long numbed into oblivion twinges at her reserved manner. I can usually harden my heart to kids who disengage after a traumatic experience to protect myself from being hurt when I find a relative worthy of raising them. Not with this little girl. She doesn’t talk, not when she likes or dislikes anything. Her disassociation reminds me of people who’ve given up after being punished for merely breathing.
As I turn us to leave, a route to sneak off the property undetected already mapped out in my head, crunching gravel announces someone’s arrival. Whoever it is, they’re important.The live-out staff uses the rear entrance to access the property. Although it could be a guest coming to await the don, my bet is the master of the estate has arrived.
Below us, a large Cadillac replica of Cadillac One rolls to a stop. A man hops out from the passenger side to open the rear door. From his build and gait, he must be Sansone’s favorite guard, Mattia.
If I thought I had a chance to leave, the footsteps from both sides of the house stomping toward us convince me otherwise. I straighten my shoulders and step in front of my ward, determined to face the heavily armedunwelcome party.
About a half-dozen men line up at the bottom of the stone stairway and aim their guns at me. They leave a path free for the man who has yet to exit the vehicle.
From the rear of the limo, shiny black shoes appear before the rest of Sansone’s body clears the door. His pictures don’t do him justice. Wind ruffles caramel strands, the envy of every supermodel. His trimmed beard saves him from looking pretty and only hints at the danger he poses. I’m undaunted and very much aware of his true potential for violence. In truth, his savagery is why I’m here.
Sansone locks gazes with me. Even from this distance, the blue of his eyes pierces me with a familiar intensity. Heat flushes through my body and a silent gasp leaves my mouth. This reaction is nothing like when the little girl clutching my shirt stares at me with those same eyes.
I release a shaky breath and remind myself why I dragged a little six-year-old girl into this situation. Sansone DeLuca has the power to protect her in case certain people come looking for her.
He approaches, his smooth gait as he traverses the stairs feels like a slow-motion reel where he becomes the only personI see. When he stands three steps below, he stops. Despite being on higher ground, his height dwarfs mine.
“Who are you and how did you get on my property?”
CHAPTER 2
