Chapter 2
My heart is pounding so loudly I’m afraid Bree and her uncle can hear it. Her uncle. The man I fucked last week.
Recognition gleams in his rich brown eyes, and my limbs shake with fear. I’ve heard all about Maksim Smolov and his ruthlessness. The man is a fearsome mobster. And my best friend’s uncle.
You sure know how to pick ‘em, Cece.
“Who did you say your friend was again?” Maksim asks Bree, his gaze not leaving mine. I gulp. We cooked up a story together, Bree and I, but now I’m not so sure that was a good idea.
Bree appears unconcerned, unlike me. She answers breezily. “Cecilia Lombardi, daughter of one of the Italian dons in my Dad’s territory out west. We met in college and hit it off. We’ve been best of friends since and I—”
“Don Lombardi?” Maksim interrupts Bree’s long-winded speech with a frown. “I can’t say I’ve heard of such a don before, and I make it a point to keep track of our Italian allies.”
“I’m sure you can’t possibly know all the Italian dons in every jurisdiction, Uncle Maks,” Bree interjects, though her smile falters.
“Cecilia, is it? Where were you last Friday by 9 PM?”
Fuck.
“I–I–Excuse me, I have to use the bathroom,” I stammer, stumbling away from the library without waiting for permission. Once out of sight, I pause to catch my breath. Oh God, what am I going to do now? The plan was flawless, and I’m sure if I hadn’t met Maksim last Friday, he wouldn’t be asking so many questions now.
What if he does a background check?
He’ll uncover the truth. It’s been barely a week, and everything’s already about to blow up in my face? That must be a new record, even for me.
Why can’t things go my way just once?
I need to leave before things get even worse. But what about Bree? Sure, I’ve been using her, but bolting now might make things even worse.
Right now, Maksim is just curious. I’m sure—I hope—he’ll only do a cursory background check on me. But if I run away, he’ll definitely become suspicious and dig deeper. What if he finds out I have a criminal record? Then he’ll know someone like me has no business being friends with someone like Bree Kilpatrick. I’m seriously fucked.
Lost in my thoughts, I don’t hear the footsteps. Or maybe he just moves quietly, because I almost jump out of my skin when someone calls my name. I glance back and sag against the wall when I see it’s just the butler. He gives me a judgy stare but bows respectfully. No matter how suspicious I seem, he still treats me with respect, thinking I’m a don’s daughter.
“Just a minute,” I swallow my fear and wave him off. You need to pull yourself together, Cecilia. Falling apart like this just won’t help.
“As you wish, ma’am.”
I wait for the butler to leave before making my way to the back porch. The cool breeze and salty air immediately soothe my soul, and after a few deep breaths, I’m able to let go of some of my worries.
Settling onto the steps, I gaze out at the crashing waves. Then, I pull out my phone to text Bree.
Me:
Hey, I’m sorry but I’ll have to miss this first lecture. I have a migraine that won’t quit. Wait for you outside?
Bree K:
Oh no, that sucks. I’ll let my uncle know you won’t be joining us. I’ll try to rush him off so I don’t leave you alone for too long.
I smile at the message, then lock my phone. A twinge of guilt hits me, but I push it to the back of my mind with the other twinges of guilt I’ve been feeling for lying to her.
She deserves better than me.
“God, I’m such a mess.”
I watch the hypnotizing sea waves with a longing sigh. The Hamptons are truly beautiful, and its shores rival even some of California’s best beaches. California. I was so happy to leave that cursed coast, eager for the added distance between me and him, but now I’m starting to have second thoughts.
Back there, I was able to fly under the radar because Nolan Kilpatrick, California”s mafia king, trusted his daughter’s words about me being one of his dons’ daughters. After all, why would Bree lie to him? But here, with Maksim sniffing around, it won’t be long before he realizes there’s no Cecilia Lombardi—or if there is, she isn’t me. And then he’ll find out there’s no Don Lombardi...
Fuck, I’m not prepared for everything to come crashing down. Bree Kilpatrick and her team of security guards are my first, second, and last option.
If my cover is blown and I’m forced to leave her side, I’ll truly be a sitting duck. The thought sends shivers down my spine, making me recall the chilling fear I had last week when I noticed the shadow stalking me.
What does he want with me now? And just when I was finally starting to feel safe again…
A deep, broken sigh escapes my lips. Unfortunately, the only person who can answer my questions is the one person I don’t want to see—the monster from my past who refuses to let me go, even though he’s the one who cut me loose.
“Fuck him,” I spit, lifting my chin in defiance.
I can’t think about him now, not when I have more pressing matters. I can’t leave Bree’s side. I can’t. I have to handle Maksim Smolov somehow. But I know he’s not a man who’s easily handled, and the thought alone makes me almost give up.
“He’s not all hard muscles and steely gazes,” I try to remind myself, remembering the way he touched me last week. But those same hands that caressed me so tenderly might just end up being the hands that kill me too.
But… but what if I seduced him again? I did it once, so I should be able to do it again. Right?
That might buy me some more time.
“Cece? Cecilia!” A soft palm lands on my shoulder, and I jolt up from the porch steps to see Bree staring at me with concern. “I didn’t mean to scare you. I’ve been trying to call, but you didn’t answer. Are you okay?”
I let out a shuddering breath and nod. Sure enough, when I tap my phone screen, I have several missed calls and texts. Fuck, how long did I zone out for? Anyone could have just walked up to me. I seriously need to work on my self-preservation skills, because what I have right now is shit.
“I’m sorry. I was just thinking about California.” I glance at the beach in shame as the lie escapes my lips. All I do is lie now. If ‘professional liar’ were an academic degree, I’d have a master’s—no, PhD by now. Call me Dr. Cecilia, LLR, for a liar.
“The Hamptons always make me nostalgic too.” Bree gives me a reassuring smile that tugs at my heartstrings. If only she knew. “Are you ready to go back to the city?”
“You’re done with the lesson already?” I ask, surprised.
“It’s been two hours. Of course, we’re done by now. If it went on any longer, I might have jumped into the ocean.”
Shit, I’ve been sitting here for two whole hours? I pause briefly before climbing the steps to her. “What about your uncle?”
“Uncle Maks? He probably left already. Like I said, we’re done with the lessons—at least for today,” she adds with a soft sigh. I feel zero sympathy for her predicament, though. At least she has a family who cares enough to teach her about the dark web of the mafia world and how to protect herself from predators. I only have myself. I’ve always only had myself.
We exit the house and make our way to the garage where three range rovers are parked. Bree and I enter one with two of her security details, while the remaining eight men divide themselves into the other two jeeps. We leave the Hamptons in a convoy, our car squished in the middle.
I thank God I didn’t run into Maksim again. I’m not ready to face him yet.
We arrive safely at Bree’s apartment on the Upper East Side, but I find it hard to relax despite her best efforts to distract me with the new series she’s watching. After ten minutes of sitting in front of the TV, I get up and start pacing.
Bree watches me quietly for a few seconds, then pauses her episode. “Okay, spill. What’s going on? You’ve been acting strangely since Uncle Maksim came into the library. I know he can be a bit intimidating, but he’s not the reason you’re this concerned, is he?”
Sure, Maksim is only part of my worries, but I latch onto the excuse she’s provided for me, knowing I have to give her something. “You saw how he was questioning us, Bree. Your uncle is getting suspicious. What if he does a background check and finds out I’m not actually a don’s daughter?”
“We’ll cross that bridge when we get there,” she says calmly.
Easy for her to say. She doesn’t have to worry about what will happen to her after we cross that bridge. Her safety is secure. “All that’s well and good, but—”
“You know what?” Bree interrupts, getting to her feet. “I know what will cheer you up, or at least get you out of this funk.”
“Oh really? What?”
“Come with me to find out.” She winks mischievously, and I can’t help but laugh a little.
Bree’s genius plan is to take me to one of the nearby night markets. Food. Damn, she knows me better than I thought. We stuff our faces with all types of junk, and I can’t lie, it works. For the first time since I saw Maksim, I finally relax a bit. I’m so at ease that I even leave Bree and wander off into the market on my own. Stupid, I know.
I realize just how stupid when the back of my neck starts to heat up and itch. I know that feeling—it’s the sensation I get when I’m being watched or followed. I slow to a stop and scan the area, but Bree and her security are nowhere in sight. Shit, just how far did I wander?
Taking a deep breath, I resume walking, slowly, so as not to let my stalker know I’m on to them. But when I take a sharp turn between the stalls, the itchiness becomes more intense. That’s when I start running, twisting and turning and ducking, but no matter what I do, I can’t shake it, and I still can’t find Bree.
“Damn it.”
Sweat trickles down my back as I make another turn, only to realize it’s a dead end. I prepare to backtrack when I stop. Why exactly am I running? I’ve been running for over two years, and what has that gotten me?
The thought weighs heavily, and suddenly, I’m so tired of it all. Why does life have to be so hard? From the moment we’re born, we work and struggle, all to end up dead anyway.
When I think about myself running for another two years, my shoulders slump. I can’t keep running forever. This has gone on long enough. It has to end. Even if it means the end of my life. It’s time to face my shadows, no matter the cost.
“Come on, you bastard,” I mutter through gritted teeth. But as I stroll toward the end of the alley, a wave of emotions washes over me: fear, acceptance, and then anger. I embrace the latter, my hands clenching into fists beside me. “Let’s end this.”
If I’m going out, I’m going out kicking and screaming, not cowering like this.
Inhaling sharply, I turn, finally ready to confront my fate.