Amelie interrupts before I have a chance to sucker punch him. “You two quit standing there and get that tape off her.”
We end our stare down and do as we’re told like fucking children. As we finish removing the tape, Sante asks the million-dollar question.
“Why is Biba after you?”
Danika looks at us while rubbing her wrists and seems to debate answering. “First, I need to know who you guys are and how you know Biba.”
She’s not in a position to make demands, but I suppose I understand her need to know. “I’m Tommaso Donati, and this is Sante. My brother is Renzo Donati—have you heard of him?” I watch her carefully for signs of recognition, but find none when she shakes her head. “How about the Moretti Family? Ever heard that name before?”
Her porcelain skin pales even further. “You’re Italian mafia,” she breathes.
“Now it’s your turn,” Sante pushes, all business. “What does Biba want with you?”
Danika looks from one of us to the other, wringing her hands with indecision. “I took something from him.”
Sante and I immediately look at one another as we’re reminded of a crazy day years ago when we too stole something from Biba. We didn’t exactly mean to—we were kids taking a million-dollar car for a joy ride. How were we supposed to know it belonged to the head of the Russian mob? The thrill was unlike anything I’d ever experienced. Unfortunately, Biba wasn’t particularly understanding, and the incident was a key factor in our extended stay in Sicily.
It wasn’t so long ago, yet it feels like a lifetime. What are the odds that a mere handful of weeks after our return, this woman careens into my life having committed the same sin? It can only be explained in one of three ways: a lie, a coincidence, or karma. All three options suck.
“What did you take?” I ask her.
“Something that wasn’t his to begin with, and it couldn’t be helped. I had no choice, and the thing I took is totallymeaningless to him. He’s just upset and needing to make a point.”
“You’re really not going to tell us what you took?”
“It doesn’t make a difference what I took. Biba’s going to hunt me to the ends of the earth regardless.”
“Man trouble,” I muse, remembering what she’d said yesterday in front of the police station.
She stares at me with a degree of strength and conviction that surprises me. “And just like I said, there is no solution to this sort of problem. All I can do is hide.”
“Well, I hope whatever it is you took was worth it because it very well may cost you your life.”
Golden-strawberry hair waving all around her, she lifts her chin defiantly. “That’s a price I’m willing to pay.”
She thinks I’m talking about Biba.
She has no idea there’s a greater danger standing right in front of her. A man with shady morals and a penchant for taking what he wants. That man wouldn’t just kill her; he’d keep her, and her life would be forever his.
CHAPTER 6
DANIKA
Prisoner or refugee?Shouldn’t I be able to tell if I’m one or the other? If I wanted to leave, would they let me? Where would I go if I did leave?
Exhaustion hits me like an ocean wave crashing onto the shore. The man and woman—Sante and Amelie—just left, and no matter how terrified I should be about being left alone with Tommaso, I have no energy left to fuel any fear.
I’ve escaped the grasp of the Russian mob only to end up in the hands of the Italian Mafia. I don’t know what to think about that. Amelie seems sweet enough, and her husband clearly adores her, so that’s a good sign.
Tommaso is a different story.
They called him Tommy, but such a boyish name doesn’t fit around his hard edges. He’s so severe. So rigid.
I would be sold on that perspective of him if it wasn’t for the way he helped keep me calm after restraining me. What kind of monster comforts its prey? Either he’s a very twisted creature or … he’s not a monster at all.
I’m bound to find out soon enough.
He watches me with inscrutable intensity like a jungle cat eyeing a snake for the first time, unsure if it’s danger or dinner.I want to assure him I’m neither, but it won’t do any good. I can already tell Tommy is the sort of man who isn’t easily swayed.
