Gabriel might be dangerous too, but if he had wanted to kill me, then why didn’t he? He didn’t try to force me to stay, either, merely warned me that I was a dead woman if I went out on the streets alone, and I’m beginning to see that he’s right. If I stay out here, I’ll be dead before I make it home. So, even though it’s far less than ideal, I spin around on my heels and take off in a run back toward Gabriel’s apartment building. I don’t like the idea at all, but I need to stay there until Leo can come offer me a bit of protection to get back home.
I manage to reach the door before the guys who are trailing me, but not by much. And of course, it’s locked. “Gabriel!” I shout at the top of my lungs as I bang on the entry door to the building. Two of his guards eye me from the lobby inside but don’t move. “Gabriel, please, let me in!” I pound my fist against the glass window at the top of the door so hard that I feel an instant swelling form on my knuckles. I stare at the soldiers inside the building, looking at me with a complete lack of empathy as they stand there doing their jobs.
But just as I see the reflection of the two men come up to stand behind me, the door opens and none other than Gabriel himself is standing there. “Welcome back,” he says dryly as he puts an arm around me to pull me through the door, glaring at the two men just outside of it. They inch closer as if they think they’re coming in too, but without even needing to be given a command, Gabriel’s guards are abruptly at the door with their hands on their belts. They’re careful not to flaunt the fact that they’ve got their fingers wrapped around loaded guns, because the general population vastly underestimates how entrenched the mafia is in their city. But the threat is received well enough, and the two men turn and walk away.
“Don’t you want to capture them and see who they’re working for?” I frown at Gabriel. It seems like a stupid idea to just let those two leave.
“What, no ‘thank you?’” he teases sarcastically. “I did just save your life from a most certain dumping of your dead carcass in the East River somewhere.”
“Thank you,” I grimace, getting the pleasantries out of the way. I hate being forced to use manners when there are more important matters at hand, but he isn’t wrong—he did just save my life. “But letting those guys go is dangerous. They’ll be back, and likely with more men.”
Gabriel nods toward his two soldiers, who go back to their previous stations to guard the building, and then he reaches out and grabs my hand to pull me toward the elevator alongside him. I feel a bit like an unruly child being herded through the aisles of a store without being given time to look. “It doesn’t matter whether they return or not,” he says as he presses the elevator button. “I’m dangerous too.”
I step into the elevator with him and as soon as the doors close, I feel as if the air has been sucked out like a vacuumed space. The confined proximity in this small metal box alongside Gabriel is unnerving. I’m just not sure whether that’s because he’s dangerous or completely intoxicating.
4
GABRIEL
At least she turned around and came back. She was smart enough to realize that she wasn’t going to make it far on her own. Camille might think she doesn’t need anyone’s help, but the truth of the matter is that she does. Still, I have my own work to do, and I can’t spend my whole night babysitting her while I wait for my brother to come and collect his friend. Admittedly, a part of me really does want to just sit here and stare at how lovely she is, but I have business to attend to.
After getting back up to my penthouse, I hold a small meeting with a few members of my crew. My priority right now is on finding out who it is that’s trying to kill me. “It’s definitely anothercapo,” I say, sorting through the process of elimination in my head and spewing my theories aloud to my captive audience. Camille sits in the corner of my oversized office next to the stone fireplace and listens to us. She’s watching me, trying to figure me out. Many women have tried to do the same.
“We’ll up the perimeter guard, send out a few runners to try and get some intel, and shake down acomareor two,” my underboss says. “We can also case a few of the empty suits to see if any of them have inadvertent dealings with any muscle that might be lingering around. Some of it might add up to placing who was behind hiring the assassin. What about your independent?”
He glances over at Camille, and I shake my head. I highly doubt she’s even a real independent. “Camille, do you pay a royalty for permission to operate outside of the mafia?” I ask.
“Why would I pay anyone? People hireme.”
“You do know how this all works, don’t you?” I chide. “I would assume since you grew up in the Grecoborgatathat your father, beingcapo, would have shown you the ropes. At least enough to keep his daughter out of trouble.”
“I know the rules,” she glares at me. “I simply choose not to play by them.”
I’d love a picture of the look on the face of my underboss right now. His jaw is hanging so widely open at her complete disregard for the things that could kill her that you could fit a football between his jaws. “She’s not an independent,” I say as I turn back to him to answer his question. “More like a lone wolf.”
When my meeting is over, my crew has a clear set of directions to ramp up security and figure out who’s pulling the strings behind trying to take me down, and they all head off to do their thing. “Glass of wine?” I offer, trying to extend an olive branch to my beautiful, albeit vexing, new houseguest.
Camille nods but asks a question instead of answering me. “Why would one of the othercaposbe trying to kill you? Have you done something to cross someone?”
“I’ve done several things to cross several people.”
“What is one of the more recent things?”
“Probably fucking another man’s wife,” I answer bluntly.
Camille turns her delicate nose up and looks disapprovingly at me as I hand her a filled wine glass. “How can you be so cocky? Just because you’re hot and wealthy doesn’t give you the right to take whatever or whomever you please,” she scolds.
“You think I’m hot?” I taunt as I take a drink of my wine.
“That’s…not the point.”
There’s something about this woman that intrigues me greatly. Her sass is interesting, and I find it a rather arousing challenge when I think about wanting to conquer just a bit of her hotheadedness. “I’ve heard the stories of your rebellious attitude, and the way you’ve bucked mafia rules in order to go out on your own instead of being somecapo’s princess,” I say as I sit down beside her on the couch. “But I must say, it’s even more impressive in person. You truly do think that you don’t have to answer to anyone, don’t you?”
“Why is that such a far-fetched concept? Is it just because I’m a woman that you think I need to heel?” she asks with her temper flaring.
“No. It’s because everyone needs to answer to someone at some point, even me.”
“Oh?” she asks with renewed curiosity. “And who do you answer to, Gabriel Adami, the greatcapo?”
