The Accardi Twins: A Mafia Romance Duet

Chapter 6

Chapter Six

Gia

“ N ice car,” I say, admiring the custom leather interiors as Joshua reverses his Maserati out of the parking space.

“Do you have history with Cristian?” he asks, out of nowhere, completely ignoring my comment. He didn’t say a single word to me from the time we left the meeting, rode the elevator, collected my stuff at the armory, and got into his car in the underground parking lot of Commission HQ. He just stared straight ahead, exuding irritation. It’s not my fault he’s been assigned as my handler or that he had to reschedule his entire day to assist with my transformation. I could easily have managed it myself, but time is of the essence, and Joshua will apparently be able to pull strings to get shit done quicker than me.

It's not like I can disagree anyway. I know I crossed the line a few times upstairs when I Iet anger get the better of me. I was so freaking mad at first until it was explained more clearly. Can’t say I’m happy I might have to fuck that Irish prick, but I’ll do it if it comes down to it. I just don’t want the board to see me as some femme fatale they can roll out when the need arises. I didn’t sign up to be Mata Hari. I want the assignments the guys get too.

“Answer me,” Joshua commands, yanking me from my inner monologue.

Joshua used to be sweet and kind, but there is no trace of that boy in the man he is today. It’s sad really, but this life can do that to a person. I’ve seen it more times than I can count. I glance out the window as he drives into lunchtime traffic. “I know Cristian because of the circles we mix in. You were at most of the same parties, events, and family gatherings.” I’m fudging my answer on purpose because fuck him. He doesn’t get to ask me personal shit and snap at me like I’m some kind of performing animal.

“Unlike you, Cristian actually acknowledges me and takes the time to speak with me. We know one another.” I’m feeling particularly mean-spirited because his twin really pushed my buttons, and Joshua’s cold treatment of me thus far hasn’t endeared me to him either, so I blurt the next part knowing it will hurt him. “You were always too busy fawning over Bettina and sucking face with her to notice anything or anyone else.”

I jerk forward in my seat as he slams his foot down on the brake and flicks the hazards on. Horns blare around us, and it’s a miracle the car behind didn’t rearend us. Joshua’s hand is wrapped around my throat before I’ve had time to process him unbuckling his seat belt and lunging at me. “Do not mention that fucking bitch in my presence ever again unless you have a death wish.” Vitriol drips from his lips and spews from his eyes.

I grab his wrist, scratching at his skin as he tightens his grip and squeezes my throat. Panic surges through my veins as I struggle to breathe. Joshua is like the devil incarnate as he glowers at me with visible hatred. I’m not even sure he’s fully with it.

Someone bangs on the driver’s side window, and Joshua snaps out of it. My hands gently clasp my sore neck as I gasp loudly, trying to drag enough air into my lungs so I can breathe. Joshua grabs his gun from the glove pocket and lowers the window.

“What the—woah, buddy, put that thing away.” I move my hand toward my leg while watching the interaction with the poor sucker who thought he could challenge Joshua for stopping in the middle of traffic like the freaking lunatic he is. Joshua prods the man’s chest with the muzzle of his gun as I stealthily unsheathe the dagger strapped to my lower leg.

“I’m in a real shitty mood, and I don’t need much incentive to pull the trigger, so get the fuck out of my face,” he snaps at the terrified man.

He’s in a shitty mood? He wasn’t the one almost strangled. Asshole.

“Fucking psycho,” the man shouts as he tears off before Joshua can put a bullet in his skull.

I always thought Caleb was the unhinged twin, but I’m reassessing my beliefs now. “Was that really necessary?” I rasp, hiding my dagger under my right thigh.

“It’s your fault,” he says in a detached tone, shutting the window and putting his gun away.

“Real mature, asshole. How old are you again?”

“Shut. Up.” He starts the engine, and I make my move.

Joshua turns rigid in his seat as steel presses against his crotch. Horns blare behind us again as he lowers his gaze to where I’m holding my dagger snug against his dick. I glare at him, pouring every ounce of hatred I currently feel into the look as I push against him with my blade. “If you try anything like that ever again, I’ll chop your dick off and stuff it down your throat. I don’t care you’re a don and I might lose my life. I’ll do it.”

How fucking dare he put his hands on me without permission.

He could have strangled me!

Fucking psycho prick.

A muscle pops in his jaw as he levels me with a lethal look. “Point made.” His eyes bore into mine as we face off for a few tense seconds.

“Good. Don’t forget it,” I say, retracting my dagger and re-sheathing it as he finally resumes driving.

Silence descends as we both stew for the rest of the journey. I take the opportunity to read the paperwork in the envelope Massimo gave me. Emma Brown is my new name. Boring but inconspicuous. Brown is the third most common last name in the city, so it’s a good choice. My pic on the ID has been doctored to show me with red hair and green eyes, and it’s how I’m going to look by the end of the day.

“Where are we?” I blurt, unconsciously breaking the silence twenty minutes later when he signals to turn into an underground parking lot. I look up at the tall modern building facing onto Central Park with curiosity.

The jerk ignores me, so I decide not to speak to him again.

I follow him out of the car and into the mirrored elevator, watching as he punches a code into the mounted keypad. I inspect my throat in the mirror, hoping it’s not going to bruise. It’s still tender, but I don’t think there is any permanent damage.

We get out on the highest level, entering a small square lobby with painted black walls. A plush gold carpet is soft underfoot, leading to two glossy black doors, one on either side of the space. A fancy table housing a bunch of white roses is propped against the wall in front of us. A framed work of modern art is mounted above the table, looking like it probably cost a small fortune. Overhead spotlights provide adequate illumination as I trail Joshua to the door on the left.

He presses his thumb to the digital panel on the door, and it opens with a subtle click. Joshua steps aside to let me enter first.

This hallway is wider and longer than the one outside, decorated in cool grays, whites, and blues. My eyes are out on stalks when I reach the main room, widening as I drink in my surroundings. To my right is a decent-sized kitchen with marble counters and expensive appliances. Four stools rest against one side of the island unit. Apart from a fruit bowl and a complicated-looking coffee machine, there is nothing else out on the counters. Almost like it’s not lived in.

“Keep up,” the asshole says, striding past the kitchen and me. I flip him the bird behind his back. Childish but hugely satisfactory.

A long wooden table and ten sleek chairs with gray velvet backs rest alongside the first floor-to-ceiling window. Light floods the space from all angles, and I wish I could stop to admire the view of the park, but the dickhead is powering through the living area, heading for the winding staircase at the rear.

I rush past the L-shaped beige leather couch positioned in front of an electric fire. On the other side of the large room is a small library and reading area with rows of shelving and comfy tub chairs. Colorful throws, cushions, rugs, and artwork lift the otherwise stark space, elevating it into something classy but homey.

This can’t be where Joshua lives, but it was my initial assumption when he first opened the door.

“Gia. Get up here!” Annoyance threads through his tone as he shouts down to me from the next level. His arms are resting on a glass half-wall that peers down on the floor below. A firm scowl is etched on his face, but it still doesn’t detract from his hotness.

Unfortunately.

I hate to admit it, but Joshua Accardi is a beautiful bastard. I always thought so as a young girl, but he’s really grown into his skin now he’s older. He takes care with his appearance, and it shows. Unlike his twin, he doesn’t usually sport facial hair, preferring a smooth jawline, which I happen to love. His big blue eyes can be equally smoldering and as glacial as the Ice Caves at Sam’s Point. Where Caleb wears his dark-blond hair in a stylishly messy fashion, Joshua’s thick hair is always slicked back off his face.

He’s consistently immaculately groomed and always dressed to impress, favoring expensive suits that highlight every gorgeous inch of his toned body. The confident vibe he emits is that of a man who is always in control. In fact, everything about him screams control, and I sense that’s on purpose.

I trudge up the spiral staircase hating that I’m attracted to the jerk.

But who doesn’t drool over a hot guy in a suit?

It doesn’t mean anything .

When I reach the second level, Joshua has his arms folded across his chest as he leans against the far wall. His impatience bleeds into the air, and I’m glad I’m annoying him.

His eyes lower to my throat for a second, and some of the harshness leaves his face. He drops his arms. “Come.”

I follow him down the hallway, passing copious doors, until we reach a large bathroom.

“Sit.” He jerks his head at the closed toilet seat as we enter the room.

What the fuck? Keep up. Get up here. Come. Sit. Natalia didn’t raise her sons to be such mannerless dicks. Holding my ground, I plant my hands on my hips and shoot daggers at him. “I am not a dog. I do not obey your every command. I’m a person, with feelings, and I deserve a certain level of respect.” Anger pitches inside me. I jab him in his chest, and it’s like trying to poke a wall. Ugh. He frustrates me to no end. “That includes not trying to strangle me because I mentioned she who should not be named .” I was tempted to say it again, but I value breathing, and I know how to pick my battles.

Differing emotions flit over his face before settling on remorse. I arch a brow as I eyeball him. His tongue darts out, wetting his plump lips. “I apologize, Gia. That was unforgivable. It’s my issue, and I had no right to take it out on you.”

I stare at him in shock. Did the cold and mighty Joshua Accardi just show emotion and say sorry? I could continue to bust his balls, but I’ve got to work with him for the foreseeable future. Massimo assigned Joshua as my main contact on the undercover op. It’s better to try to reset things from the outset, and I won’t need the additional stress, so I decide to be magnanimous.

“Apology accepted, and I’m sorry for bringing her up. I’m aware of what she did and how you must feel about her.” That’s true, but I honestly thought he was over it by now. Apparently not if it’s still such a touchy subject.

A muscle pops in his jaw, and he’s holding himself rigidly still.

“For what it’s worth, she is a fool. Elisa and I used to watch you two together and dream of having a boyfriend who treated us so well. You worshipped the ground she walked on, and she was a complete bitch to throw that back in your face.”

“I don’t want to talk about it,” he says in a clipped tone, opening the bathroom cupboard and retrieving a medical kit.

“I just wanted you to know it was nothing you did, and if you ask me, you had a lucky escape.”

“Gia,” he growls, narrowing his eyes as he sets the kit down on the counter.

“Shutting up now.” I drag my finger along my lips in a zipping motion.

He points at the toilet again. “Please take a seat so I can examine your neck.”

I move quickly, depositing my butt on the closed lid. His brows climb to his hairline, and I answer his unspoken question as I smile up at him. “You asked nicely. It’s as simple as that, Joshua.”