Page 79 of Venomous Throne

Banging about the kitchen, making as much noise as possible, I started the coffee. The phone vibrated in my pocket. I snatched it out, nearly burning myself on the gas flames on the stovetop.

Jaxon’s answer was one word:Tonight.

I smiled at the text. He was a man of so few words, speaking more with his body and the flash of his eye. Except in the bedroom. Then the doors opened, and the dirty talk came out. I shivered in delight. I didn’t mind. Not one bit.

***

Thirty minutes later, we were on our way to the car dealership. There was no fear of an attack. Bonetti and his faction received a crippling blow. It would take them time to regroup. Meanwhile, we had a shipment of illegal goods that needed laundering. Donnie, the master washer, was going to do his magic while we interacted with customers.

The perfect outing.

“I just need to stop by the Ivory Pony Club,” Donnie instructed his soldier, a middle-aged man named Tom.

I looked on with interest as we pulled into the gravel lot. There were no cars.

“Don’t they open at eleven?” I asked, peering out the window.

“Yeah.” My capo’s voice was rough.

The hackles on my neck pricked.

“Stay here,” Tom instructed.

Like hell.

But Vincenzo, who was sitting in the back with me, moved his hand out. I shot the lad a look, and he shook his head.

Donnie and Tom jumped out. The second SUV, with five other soldiers, likewise emptied. Three men stood outside on guard, while two joined the entrance party.

My heart thumped against my chest.

“This is ridiculous,” I snapped.

“Donna Isabella, this is for your own safety.” Vincenzo swept a hard look out into the street.

Each second dragged on like an eternity. Tension crackled in the vehicle like an electrical storm, suffocating the air around us. A frigid sweat erupted over my skin, chilling me to the bone with its relentless grip.

“They’re out.” Vincenzo cracked his door and shouted in Italian.

Mine was decent, but the words I caught couldn’t possibly be right. When the lad winced, I realized I was right.

I launched from the car.

Vincenzo cursed.

“Show me,” I demanded, approaching Donnie.

“Donna,” he protested.

I held up my hand. “Donatello Pileggi, you show me right now.”

Theor elsehung in the air.

He was wise enough not to test me.

“Right this way,” the capo groaned and led me to the strip club’s entrance.

The strip club had always been a joke among our community—kitschy, sad, and lit by the kind of fluorescent lights that made everyone in them look like a ghoul after last call. But this morning, it was transformed into something more akin to a shrine: solemn and silent except for the ever-present buzz of the bulbs overhead. Before I even crossed the threshold, I caught the coppery reek that hung in the air like a warning.