Her light makeup couldn’t hide how tired she looked, though.
There was a bone-weary weakness to the way she held herself, and even her citrusy omega scent couldn’t make her seem at all optimistic.
She scanned me from head to toe, assessing me. I wasn’t sure what she was looking for—I had no idea why she was here for me to begin with.
After looking me over, she turned to Conrad. He snored louder as if in response to the scrutiny. Her assessment didn’t take long, and then she turned to the uniformed man she came in with.
“These are the two,” she stated. “Release them to me and the Alfieri family will owe Theodore Windsor a favour.”
He nodded. “Of course. We’ve been told to cooperate with any prisoners you’d like to take with you today.”
My heartbeat slowed in my chest as I clued in to who this woman was.
An Alfieri daughter.
The elusive women didn’t make many public appearances, but at least one of them helped with day-to-day operations of their family’s branch of the mafia.
Shit.
They must know about the ammo—Grave probably told them we were selling it to the O’Connors to cover his own ass. If this woman took us out of this prison cell, we were both going to die before we could make sure Talia was alright.
“I want my phone call,” I said, looking up at the woman. “I’ll leave with you after I get my phone call.”
She looked at me. Then, she laughed. “Oh, Mercer. You’re leaving with me right now. No phone call. If you fight it, I’ll have them sedate you again and you’ll be dragged out of here like Conrad.”
The suited man waved over the guards, and they uncuffed my packmate. A few more men in all black suits came through the door, holding a cot between them. I watched helplessly as they rolled Conrad and his modesty blanket onto it and picked it up, hauling him out the door.
“Have you decided to walk out with me peacefully?” she asked.
I stifled a growl.
If I walked out of here with her, I was going to die.
What choice did I have? She’d made it clear she was taking me one way or another.
“Fine.”
“Good. Undo his cuff,” she ordered the guards about like she was the police chief here.
She might as well be, considering she had his support.
My arm dropped to my side when the cuff was undone, and I pushed to my feet. The Alfieri woman didn’t flinch or step back when I walked toward her. All she did was watch me intently.
Part of me wanted to lunge forward to scare her, to growl or bark or assert my authority in some way. Not only would that make my life worse, but I couldn’t bring myself to do it. She was a woman—an omega.
She was going to kill me, but until she was holding the knife to my throat, I wouldn’t be able to attack her.
“Let’s go, then. If I don’t get my fucking phone call,” I grumbled.
“You’re not very grateful to the woman who saved you from a few more nights in jail.”
“I know why you did it, and I’m aware this doesn’t end well for me.”
She smirked. “You may think you know, but you don’t. And whether this ends well for you or not is fully dependent on whether you impress me and my fathers.”
How was I supposed to impress a mafia heiress when I’d already been ‘caught’ selling dangerous ammo to their competitors? I could claim we hadn’t done it and give them the box of ammo West had stolen—assuming he got it somewhere safe—but that would put our third pack member into the line of fire too.
“Don’t overthink it,” she said with a laugh. She must have noticed my internal dilemma. “I’m Lavinia. Follow me, and show a bit of thanks.”
