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  I let out a relieved breath.

  Nikolai: Thank you.

  Jac: If your grandfather could see you now…

  Nikolai: Leave him out of this.

  Jac: It is because of him that you have everything that you have!

  Nikolai: I need to run. Thank you, Jac.

  She didn’t respond. I didn’t expect her to. It was the first time in years I’d closed down the offices. I tried to keep my expression void of any sort of emotion, even though my insides were wound so tightly I felt like screaming. It seemed the more I wanted to help, the deeper I dug the hole.

  I glanced at Maya out of the corner of my eye. Her back was ramrod straight, her eyes locked on Nixon, the Abandonato family boss, as he drove us through the ironclad gates of his house and compound.

  I breathed the first sigh of relief in what felt like years, toying with the idea of leaving Maya with the only people who truly could make her disappear.

  Who could keep her safe from her father.

  Who could help me fake her death.

  The idea had merit.

  And maybe if I was a less selfish individual, I’d follow through with it, possibly wipe her memory completely of me and her past life, but I’d always wonder if the feel of my lips across hers would be strong enough to stay amongst the memories I wouldn’t be able to eradicate.

  Nixon pulled the SUV to a stop and turned off the ignition. I unbuckled my seat belt and motioned for Maya to follow us into the large house. It was a brick two-story mansion that had been in his family for over fifty years, though everything had been so modernized that you probably couldn’t use the restroom without having a camera trained in on your ass.

  Maya clutched my hand tightly in hers as we walked in silence toward the front door. Two men stood on either side, ear pieces in their ears.

  I smirked, nodding my head in their direction. “I imagine the added security is for my benefit?”

  Nixon rolled his eyes. “My wife’s pregnant, so it’s fifty percent Russian shit and fifty percent paranoia.”

  “Thanks.” I grinned smugly at the two men, itching to start a fight, one I knew I’d finish; not much could stop me. My specialty might be more of the emotional terrorism type but my father, while he was living, had still forced me to learn how to box.

  The minute we stepped into the house, all hell broke loose.

  “Son of a bitch!” a woman shrieked. “Are you ever clothed?”

  Maya’s eyes widened as Chase, assassin by trade, hovered over the stove and lifted a wooden spoon to his mouth. “Damn that’s good sauce.”

  “Chase Winter!” Mil yelled. “We have guests!”

  “I’m making sauce, babe, I told you, no yelling when I’m making sauce!” He was, very clearly yelling just as loud as she was, though in the brief moments I’d been with any of the families I’d come to notice that was just how they communicated. Loudly. And often.

  “Chase!” Mil rolled her eyes. “Can’t you see we have company?”

  “Russians…” Phoenix, the Nicolasi boss nodded in my direction. “…aren’t truly company, more like—”

  “A necessary evil?” Maya popped up.

  Chase slowly turned around, his eyes zeroing in on Maya and the way she attached herself to my side. “You.” He pointed with the sauce covered spoon. “You can stay for dinner.”

  “Chase has spoken.” Frank, boss to the Alfero family walked around us and took a seat at the head of the table and began pouring himself a generous amount of wine. “Nikolai…” He cleared his throat. “How is business?”

  All talking ceased.

  Smoothly, efficiently, I pulled the gun from the back of my pants, slid it across the table, released Maya, then pressed my hands against the wood. “Business is too good to mess it up by getting shot… surprised you didn’t search me sooner.”

  “Consider it an olive branch,” Nixon said from behind me, his hands patting my chest, then legs, then arms.

  When he was done all eyes turned to Maya.

  “What?” she whispered. “You don’t think…”

  “I’ll do it.” Mil stepped forward. “Although the guys are all happily married, I wouldn’t trust them not to cop a feel, especially my husband.”

  “Shit, Mil, you know I’m not like that.”

  “You’re getting sauce on the floor, Chase!” she snapped while he blew her a kiss and kept stirring the pot.

  Everything was filled with life, even though everywhere you looked there was death. Maya probably had no idea that we were doing just that, courting death, by simply eating dinner with these people, but we were. And I wasn’t stupid enough to think that one false move wouldn’t end both our lives.

  It was what they were good at, the Italians, disarming the situation, making you think that you really were walking in on a simple family dinner, when in all reality each person had a different weapon trained on you, just waiting for you to make a false move so they’d have an excuse to inflict bodily harm, and smile while doing so. It was their way. So completely foreign from the way I’d always done things, the entire situation felt eerie.

  “Clean.” Mil stood and then winked in my direction. “Nice work, Nikolai, she’s got a great ass.”

  Maya blushed profusely.

  I cracked a smile, it took a giant effort not to burst out laughing. I’d always loved Mil. She reminded me of Andi in so many ways.

  Just thinking of Andi’s name made an all familiar ache to spread from the middle of my chest out toward my limbs.

  And like a dark cloud, the room once again was filled with a tense silence.

  “She died well,” Frank said after a few seconds, his wine glass lifted halfway in the air. “She died brave.”

  “Did she hurt?” Maya asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

  “No.” Frank’s blue eyes blurred with tears. “Had she been in pain, Sergio would have taken care of it.”

  I wanted to be angry that Sergio offered to kill Andi… but I knew, in his mind, in the mind of the mafia, it would still be an honorable death, something she deserved.

  “I wish I could have met her,” Maya said in a small voice.

  I didn’t do comfort well, wasn’t sure if I was emotionally capable of doing anything more than wrapping my arm around her—especially in front of people who, up until six months ago, had been sworn enemies.

  Mil was the first to speak. “She’ll always be with you, she’s persistent like that… Sergio says he sees her in the way rain falls, constantly hitting your face until you have no choice but to lift your chin toward the sky.” Her eyes filled with tears. “Then again he also sees her in a baseball bat, so maybe he’s come unhinged.”

  “Do I get to meet him?” Maya asked.

  Phoenix shared a pointed look with me before glancing at Maya. My stomach clenched with unease. Phoenix and I had a shared pain. It was only too easy to read emotions from his face, and he seemed not only worried but tired. “It’s probably best that you meet him later, at the funeral, right before you leave.”

  Maya didn’t push him, though I’d expected her to.

  “Shall we sit?” Frank motioned to the empty chairs. “Chase has prepared a meal for us to share.”

  I wondered if Maya understood the importance behind breaking bread with your enemy—or the significance. That if Frank hadn’t offered food, we’d be on the opposite end of a gun instead.

  Once pasta had been dished up, everyone began eating, everyone but Tex. I should have known the Cappo would have his doubts about me. He was, in essence, the godfather, though young, so young that I would have laughed at his power trip. But it wasn’t an act, he was a Campisi. He’d killed his own father in cold blood then shot two bullets between his eyes just in case.

  He was ruthless, cold hearted, rumored to have no conscience. At times I wondered if we were related, since the same things had been said about me.

  “Campisi,” I snapped. “Keep looking at her like that, and I make you squawk like a ch
icken every time someone snaps their fingers.”

  Nixon chuckled behind a mouth full of bread while Tex’s eyes narrowed to tiny slits. “Do it and I’ll pull your intestines out through your ass.”

  “Lovely,” a female voice said from the direction of the kitchen as she made her way along with two other women into the room. “Intestines? Really?” Mo Abandonato, Tex’s wife slid into a chair next to him followed by Phoenix’s wife Bee and Nixon’s wife, Trace.

  They made the necessary introductions with Maya.

  Tex bit down on his lip then reached for Mo’s hand while she whispered something in his ear.

  “Squawk like a chicken?” Maya asked under her breath. “What does that mean?”

  “It means,” Chase interjected from Maya’s other side, “that he’s a freaking hypnotist, amongst other things. Heard that last year he had one of Petrov’s men willingly walk into a raging fire. He burned alive, you could smell the singed skin hours later.”

  I groaned, clenching my teeth together in rage, while Maya tensed next to me. Of course she did, it wasn’t exactly a glowing review of my humanity.

  “So, how did you two meet?” Chase changed the subject. It would have been a welcome change, except for that story wasn’t exactly table conversation. I sighed. Then again, neither was talk of intestines coming out of asses.

  “I work for him,” Maya said in a slow and steady voice.

  Frank choked on his wine and began pounding his chest.

  Shit. I knew exactly what Frank was thinking.

  “Employee,” I said loudly. “Not a patient.”

  “That is your business.” Frank answered.

  I let out a sigh, the pasta feeling like a brick in my stomach. “She’s working on her master’s thesis on the spread of sexually transmitted diseases. During the day she does research for me. At night—“

  “Do tell.” Chase chuckled darkly. “What do you do for the good doctor at night?”

  Maya didn’t miss a beat. “You mean before the naked examination or after I screw him in my nurse outfit?”

  His eyes widened.

  Mil cackled. “You deserved that.”

  “Oh.” He frowned. “You’re kidding?”

  I smiled. “I think if she was being serious it would be a lot more exciting than a simple screw on an exam table, don’t you?”

  Chase’s eyes narrowed.

  I noticed Frank check his watch out of the corner of my eye. “It is time.” He stood, and the bosses followed while the spouses stayed sitting.

  “Coming?” Phoenix challenged.

  “Yes.” I stood then reached for Maya’s hand, pressing a kiss against her knuckles. “You’ll be safe. I promise.”

  Her panic-stricken eyes didn’t make it easy on me. “Where are you going?”

  “Don’t worry.” Bee winked at Maya. “We’ll watch movies and eat junk food… the guys will be just fine.”

  Maya wasn’t used to this side of the mafia.

  She was always on the outside looking in.

  Never the other way around.

  “I’ll return,” I said with a simple shrug, collected my gun from Chase and followed the men out into the darkness.

  There is no shame in knowing. The shame lies in not finding out. –Russian Proverb

  I WANTED ANSWERS.

  But I wasn’t sure that the wives weren’t just as dangerous as their husbands. It didn’t escape my notice that Mo was cutting up slices of apple with a dagger, or that Bee had stashed a gun under the couch cushion then winked.

  Trace seemed to be the most normal one. At least until she burst into tears over the tire commercial.

  “First trimester.” Bee said without looking in my direction. “She’s having a rough time with those hormones.”

  “How far along are you?” I inquired, trying not to stare at her rounded belly. “If you don’t mind me asking.”

  “Twenty-two weeks.” Bee sighed. “At least I’m over the morning sickness. At this point all I want are chips. Lots and lots of chips, with extra cheese and salt. You know those ball pits on playgrounds?” I nodded. “If I could replace those with Cheetos and then just hop in and make a little Cheeto angel, my life would be complete.”

  “Loves her Cheetos.” Mo smirked then offered me a slice of apple, I had to pull it from the tip of the knife, I tried to keep my fingers from shaking. Who were these people? It was like I’d stepped into an alternate universe.

  I understood why we were there. Clearly, Nikolai had been close to my sister. But how close?

  Nerves got the better of me, and I popped my knuckles.

  “Are you okay?” Mo asked quickly looking down at my hands and frowning.

  “Yeah.” I stopped cracking my knuckles and shook my head. “It’s just been a really long and confusing day.”

  “Welcome to the mafia.” Trace spoke from the spot on the couch where she’d curled up and was hugging a pillow.

  “My dad’s Petrov.” I felt like I needed to clear the air, I mean they probably knew that because of Andi, but still.

  “You’re dad’s not Petrov.” Mo said in a bored tone. “He may have raised you, but he wasn’t your father.” It surprised me that Mo seemed to know more about my parentage than I did. Then again, I seemed to be the only one in the dark and I had no idea why complete strangers seemed to have my family biography memorized while I still didn’t even know who my real father was.

  I choked back a sob, “Up until two weeks ago… he was still… semi-normal.”

  “Most monsters wear disguises until they no longer need them.” Mo gave me an apologetic look. “I’m sorry to say that, but it’s true.”

  I nodded. “Where did the guys go?”

  The girls fell silent.

  “Why don’t we just watch the movie?” Bee turned up the volume.

  “Please?” I was desperate to know. “Is Nikolai going to be okay?”

  “Hah.” Bee laughed, then sobered immediately. “Do you really know so little about the man who stares at you as if you hung the moon and stars while simultaneously dancing naked in the rain?”

  Heat bloomed in my cheeks. “He doesn’t… look at me like that.”

  “He does!” all three girls said in unison.

  “He’ll be more than fine…” Bee answered my question. “He’s Nikolai Blazik, one of the scariest bastards to ever work for the Russian mafia, not only is he notorious for his lack of conscience, but he can make anyone believe anything by the simple snap of his fingers.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Mentalist.” Bee offered. “Hypnotist… brainwasher extraordinaire… Though my money’s on alien… He’s a master manipulator. Chase wasn’t kidding about the whole jumping through fire and staying there until death. I’m not saying it would be a fair fight, five against one, but I am saying, they wouldn’t even dream of hurting him, when keeping him on our good side far outweighs the risk of having Petrov come after us.”

  “But, what does this have to do with Andi?”

  “Does he tell you anything?” Trace said in an agitated voice, and then yawned behind her hand. “Nikolai checks in with the bosses at least once a month… your… boss,” I didn’t miss how she made quotations in the air. “Is playing both sides… He’s pretending to still work for your father, but feeding us the information. He even drinks wine over vodka. Chase is convinced he’s going Italian.”

  “Someone get him a flag,” Bee joked.

  “But—” A choking sensation wrapped itself around my throat. “That’s impossible… he’s been… out of the mafia for years, he really does work all day then run a completely legitimate business.”

  Raised eyebrows met my defense of him.

  “Okay semi-legitimate business at night… he isn’t… I mean, he’s trying to keep me safe, from my father.”

  “Right,” Trace whispered. “But who, exactly, is keeping you safe, from him?”

  I didn’t have an answer.

  How many times had
Nikolai said the same thing?

  I was beginning to think that the business proposition he’d given me had been a front, a way to lead into something more. He could hire anyone for help with research—any number of interns would be thrilled to do my day job—and would work for ten dollars an hour with a cheerful smile on their faces.

  The same with the night job.

  Even Jac had said as much.

  So why me?

  And why would he bargain with me? Why would he risk losing so much with my father? And with the Italians?

  Why was I worth so damn much?

  “I, uh—” I stood abruptly. “I have a headache, can I lie down somewhere?”

  “Sure.” Bee stretched her arms above her head. “A room was already prepared for you two.”

  A room. Singular.

  “It’s at the end of the hall to the right. Your bags should already be unpacked.”

  Someone had rifled through my things?

  “Have a good night, Maya,” Bee whispered. “And remember, at least here, for now… you’re safe.”

  “And tomorrow?” I couldn’t help but ask.

  “Is a new day,” she offered, not making eye contact.

  Another body was found near Pike’s Market. The autopsy will take place over the weekend to discover if the Pier Killer is suspect.—The Seattle Tribune

  “SUBTLE,” I FINALLY SAID ONCE I was alone with Frank in the SUV. “Could you have at least made up a small white lie?”

  “And tell her we were going for ice cream?” Frank laughed. “No. Besides, I do not waste my lies easily. I imagine God only gives us a few, less to men like me. No, I save my lies until I have no choice but to use them.”

  Leave it to the rest of the bosses to have me ride with the eldest of the five, the philosopher who was currently driving faster than everyone else put together.

  “Sergio’s house was infiltrated twice while Andi was staying with him. We need to know how they received the codes, and we need to know if Petrov plans on retaliating.”

  I took a deep breath and cracked my neck. “I could do it blindfolded.”