But I couldn’t escape the feeling Freddy was setting me up to be the fall guy on this. If I broke my code and killed the daughter of Giovanni Accardo—andifit got out that one of the MacCarrick boys was involved—I was going to end up oneveryone’starget list. Was vengeance for my brother worth that?
Yeah. I’d put a target on my back to balance the scales.
But was vengeance for my brother worth killing some innocent woman, even if I hated her father?
No. Cal wouldn’t have approved of that, and I didn’t either.
That said, I couldn’t leave her here to call the cops or call her father and bring down the wrath of the entire Accardo Syndicate on my head. I’d painted myself into a corner, and now I had precious few options.
I needed to get out of here. I’d wasted too much time already. The clock was ticking, and things were getting worse with each passing minute.
“Are you going to kill me?”
I heard the note of fear in her voice. Some assholes got off on being feared. It made me feel like shit. I didn’t let it show. If she was afraid, she would be less of a problem, and I had problems enough.
“I can’t leave you here, Princess,” I growled. “You’ve seen my face.”
She paled. “I don’t know you. I’ve never seen you before.”
“I know who you are. Too many people can connect the dots with a simple description from you.”
“This is…” Her voice gave out. She tried again, forcing the words. “This is about my dad?”
It was jarring to imagine anyone calling Don Giovanni Accardo “dad,” but she had the right, I suppose. I was just as much in the dark about the reason I’d been hired to kill her. Omertà—the code of silence—strikes again.
She was waiting for me to answer. I stared at her, wondering how much she might know about any of this. I’d called her pretty, but I had to admit that she was closer to beautiful. Not that this was the right time to be thinking about that kind of thing—and she definitely wasn’t the right person. All the same, I couldn’t help but admire her a little. She was doing her best to hold it together after a strange man stepped into her bedroom and pointed a pistol in her face.
It was best to keep her guessing and keep her close until I could find out exactly how sideways things had gone.
“You’re coming with me,” I said instead of answering her question about her dad. “Don’t be a problem.”
“Where are you taking me?”
“Somewhere else.”
Somewhere I could lie low until I figured out just what the fuck was going on and exactly how much shit I was in.
I glanced around the room, fighting against my increasing uneasiness about running out of time. I’d fired four shots since breaking into the penthouse. My pistol’s suppressor was why Sofia hadn’t heard me putting two bullets in each of the men eating in the kitchen. Neighbors wouldn’t have heard any gunshots, but I didn’t intend to push my luck. An assassin did his work and either got out or got caught.
A small carry-on suitcase sat open on the bed, filled with clothing. Two garment bags were lying next to it, and another, bigger suitcase sat open but empty on the floor nearby. Judging by the patterns, the suitcases and garment bags were all Gucci, surprise, surprise.
I pointed at the small suitcase on the bed. “Your luck’s in. Looks like you’re already packed. Where were you going?”
She crossed her arms and looked away from me, staring toward the bed. I tried not to notice how crossing her arms pushed up her breasts. Not that I had a problem looking…in the right situation.
Again, this wasn’t the right situation.
“Aruba,” she finally answered, sounding as if she wanted to be there right now. I couldn’t blame her. New York in winter could be bleak.
“You’re going to miss your plane. Grab your suitcase and your toothbrush, put on a coat, and leave your phone behind. Be good and this goes easy.”
A little of the tension went out of her. It took me a second to figure out why. It reassured her that I wanted her to bring along clothes, and even the throwaway toothbrush line reassured her that I wasn’t simply dragging her somewhere worse to kill her.
She did as ordered. It was easy to appreciate a person wise enough to know when not to bitch. Especially someone like her, used to getting her own way, judging by the luxury life she enjoyed.
I watched as she zipped up the suitcase. I’d check it later for weapons or any tech that could make a call or connect to the internet. It was sloppy to allow her to take the carry-on at all, but I was really feeling the time pressure, and my plans had already fallen apart. So here I was, letting the beautiful daughter of a man I hated bring along her toothbrush on a kidnapping.
Christ, was it clear that I was making it up as I went along? That was asking for an ass-kicking, but now I was all in. All in over my fucking head with my first-ever hostage.
