He huffs. “No onion.”
He shrugs and pockets his gloved hands. “Seem to be going out of your way for the new girlfriend, huh?” he says with an arrogant smirk.
I close the door in his face, then I open the brown bag and inspect the contents. It’s her usual order from one of her favorite restaurants. She can hate me all she likes, but while I’m in charge of her safety, I’m not going to let her wilt away into nothing.
I hover outside her door, thinking better of barging in. Instead, I place my offering on the floor and then knock before walking down the stairs. I’ve got a lot of work to do, investigating her father, and I can’t help but think Lily Taylor might be my most turbulent mission yet.
8
LILY
Ridiculous. That's what this situation is. And I can’t do anything about it. I don’t want to end my friendship with Ara, but I also don't want to be stuck with a brute of a man whose default setting seems to be broody and annoyed.
I don’t know what I ever saw in him.
This thought repeats in my mind as Lorenzo drives us to the party, and he hasn’t even so much as spoken to me since practically forcing me into the car. I’ve never met someone with the skills to irritate me so spectacularly. He’s beyond offensive, and I can’t see myself getting used to this arrangement any time soon. The sooner Luca gets his shit together, the better. For all our sakes.
I’ve done my best to ignore him all week, despite him never being far from my side, but my curiosity has limits. I side-eye him, betraying myself as my gaze trails over his immaculate suit and freshly trimmed facial hair. Strong wafts of cedar roll off him, and I despise every intricate detail I notice.
He looks good.
Too good.
He always has, and that’s certainly part of the problem.
Shouldn’t killers give some indication of the danger they pose? Shouldn’t they look scary or repulsive?
“You’re staring,” he says.Damn it. I immediately divert my gaze out the window. Of course, he notices everything.
I swear I can sense his gaze shift to me, which unfurls an uncomfortable unease in my stomach. Something that flutters before it’s washed over with the cold reminder of exactly how my father is going to react when he sees me at this party with Lorenzo.
I don’t know what to do. I’m trapped, because even if I run from Lorenzo, I know he’ll find me. I’m a fool for romanticizing him before. I always thought he was attractive, and I would sneak glances whenever he was around Luca and Ara. But now I wish I had never gotten too close, because I’ve only found a closet full of demons.
Perhaps my taste in men is worse than I imagined. Maybe I really should let my friend Elanee matchmake for me.
A startling thought hits me, and I can’t help but look back over at Lorenzo. I don’t know much about Dmitri and Elanee’s relationship, but there was a lot of weird tension going around when they got together.
“Is Elanee a part of the Mafia?” I ask quickly, too scared I’ll lose my nerve if I don’t throw it out there. Oh my gosh, are all of my friends actually part of some underworld scene? Am I so sheltered that I even lack the natural instincts to warn me when I'm around dangerous people?
Lorenzo’s gaze meets mine. “I don’t share other people's secrets.”
A cold dread washes over me, and I’m once again quick to divert my gaze, too scared that he’ll see every little pebble of fear piling up inside me. The small flutters in my stomach become heavier. I focus on my breathing as I try to push through the sheer panic washing over me.Holy fuck. What have I gottenmyself into? I don’t know right from wrong anymore. I don’t know who my friends really are. I mean, I know they’re my friends, but as evidenced by my current situation, it's obviously dangerous just to be associated with them. But I can’t seem to blame Ara for any of it. Nothing has happened all week, and I’m starting to believe it’s all an exaggeration.
My mind begins to spiral as it becomes harder to breathe.
I try to control my thoughts.Let’s just focus on the issue at hand.Fuck, my father’s going to lose his shit when Lorenzo, an unknown bachelor with no money or connections, comes in, declaring himself as my boyfriend. But I can't tell him I’m best friends with a Mafia boss's wife or… or… Fuck!
The car comes to an abrupt halt at the curb, and the back of my head hits the seat hard, stunning me for a moment. Adrenaline pumps through my veins as I look up, expecting an accident. Or worse: will there be men pointing guns at us?
People are yelling and screaming at us, but there’s no accident or ambush; we’re simply parked halfway over the curb onto the sidewalk.
What the?—?
“Breathe.” Lorenzo’s voice carries hypnotically through the car. It’s only then that I notice the rough pads of his fingers that prickle along the back of my neck. It pushes a fresh dose of adrenaline through my veins as his feather-light grip redirects my face to look in his direction. Those dark-brown eyes pin me, bringing me back into myself. “Breathe,” he says again, and I trail the word to his lips, following his lead. Slowly in and slowly out.
In and out.
In and out.
