Chapter 5
CHAPTER FIVE
~NADIA~
“ I ’m bored out of my mind .” I pace the penthouse in front of the windows. “It’s been two damn weeks. I feel great. I can even cover what’s left of the bruises with makeup, and you’d never know they’re there.”
Carmine lounges on the couch, reading something on his iPad.
“What are you doing?”
“Reading stock reports.” He sips his coffee. “How are your investments doing?”
I cock my head to the side. “Are you some kind of financial advisor?”
His grin is wide and toothy—and cockier than any one man has a right to be.
“I have a master’s in finance,” he says. “I guess you could say that I’m a financial advisor.”
“To your family,” I finish for him. “You help them hide money.”
There’s that smile again. “I assure you, everything I offer is legal.”
“Bullshit.”
“So, I’ll ask again. How are your investments?”
He’s evading.
“I don’t have any.”
His brow knits. “ None ?”
“No.”
“Nadia, you’re pushing thirty. You should have a Roth IRA, at the very least. You should have stocks. I know you’re set to inherit more money than the net worth of several countries, but?—”
“Carmine. I don’t want to talk about finances. I want to get the hell out of here.”
He sighs. “Let’s go for a walk.”
“Anything.” I bounce into the bedroom to snatch up the new shoes I ordered a few days ago. Since blood now covered the running shoes I had on the day I was attacked, I needed new ones.
When I’m dressed and ready to go, Carmine sets his iPad aside, and we step into the elevator.
“We should head to New York tomorrow,” I say as we ride down to the ground floor.
“It’s Friday, Nadia. Let’s go Monday.”
“Because the mafia takes weekends off?” I roll my eyes. “You’re stalling.”
“I told you before; I want to make sure you’re healthy.”
“I feel great.” It’s not a complete lie. Aside from a little ache in my shoulder when I raise my arm above my head, and the vision in my left eye still being a little blurry, I feel pretty good. The doctor said I might not get my sight back all the way, though.
That pissed me right off.
But I’m not dead, and that’s something.
“I saw you wince this morning when you reached for a mug in the cabinet.”
“You’re watching me like a fucking mother hen.” I scowl as we step outside and then stop to take a deep breath. “I love summer.”
“Seattle is nice in the summer,” he says. “Less rain, more sun. Not too hot, thanks to the Sound.”
“It’s a beautiful day.” I tip my head up to the sky.
“You might want to pay attention, so you don’t faceplant on the concrete.”
I laugh and glance up at him. “You would probably catch me.”
“Maybe.”
These past two weeks have shown me that I can let my guard down around Carmine. Now that it’s just us —no pretenses, no blatant lies or games—I actually trust that he won’t hurt me.
Not intentionally, anyway.
He’s the only person in the world that I can trust right now, and I just hope that he doesn’t do something stupid to betray that faith.
“What’s that place?” I ask, pointing across the street. “It looks like a coffee shop. Cherry Street Coffee House. How did I not know that was here all the time we’ve lived here?”
“I don’t think I’ve been in there,” he says. “Do you want some coffee?”
“Yes. An iced Americano sounds awesome right now. Let’s do it.”
We watch for traffic and then hustle across the street. The café is so cute, and it smells amazing when we walk inside.
I order my iced coffee and throw caution to the wind, including an orange and cranberry scone. Carmine gets the same. Before long, we’re walking out of the shop again, loaded down with our treats.
“This is the best day I’ve had in two weeks.”
Carmine laughs. “If I’d known that all it took for you to have the best day ever is a coffee and a scone, I would have done this sooner.”
“Now we know. This could be a new daily occurrence.”
“I overheard the barista telling someone that they have killer cinnamon rolls.” Carmine shrugs as he takes a bite of his scone. “Maybe we’ll have to check it out for breakfast.”
“God, yes.” I sip my coffee in happiness. “It feels good to finally feel semi-normal, you know?”
“I imagine that it does,” he replies. “And it’s good to see you looking like yourself again.”
“I think that— whoa! ”
My toe catches on an uneven part of the sidewalk, and I pitch forward. My coffee flies, and before my face can hit the ground, Carmine’s arm wraps around my waist, and he catches me.
It all happened so fast, yet at the same time, it seemed to be in slow motion.
Especially the part where my almost-full coffee fell and splashed everywhere.
“Sonofabitch,” I growl. “I was enjoying that.”
“You can have mine.” Carmine makes sure I’m standing upright and offers me his cup, but I shake my head.
“No, you enjoy it. I still have my scone.”
“We’ll share,” he says, and then his eyes narrow on my face. “What hurts?”
I don’t want to tell him. I don’t want to say it out loud because then it’ll be true.
“I’m fine.”
His finger gently taps under my chin, and he makes me look him in the eyes.
“Don’t fucking lie to me, Nadia.”
“My shoulder.” I sigh in exasperation. “I wrenched it a bit when my arm flailed. But it’ll be fine. I’ll just ice it and take an Advil when we get back. It’ll be just fine.”
He sighs and offers me a sip of his coffee, which I accept.
“Let’s head back.”
I’m tired. I didn’t expect our walk to exhaust me as much as it did. Maybe it was the almost-fall that did me in.
The return trip is more subdued. We’re quiet as we sip Carmine’s coffee and eat our scones. When we get up to the penthouse, Carmine orders me to sit on the sofa.
“I’m getting you some ice,” he informs me. His tone says he’s not to be argued with.
I’m not really interested in arguing anyway.
The ice pack feels good on my sore shoulder. “Why don’t you sit with me, and we’ll put a movie on?”
He nods, turns on the TV, and passes me the remote. Then he sits next to me with his iPad in his lap.
He often works as I watch television. I won’t admit it out loud, but I enjoy just being with him.
And that’s stupid. But it is what it is.
“How about Thor ?” I ask. “The third one. It’s the funniest.”
“I’m game.”
I turn it on and then lean my head on Carmine’s strong shoulder. Thor and Hulk are in an arena, about to battle it out as my eyes slip closed, and I fall asleep.
“Wake up, pretty girl.”
I take a deep breath and crack open one eye. It’s still dark outside. “Jesus, what time is it?”
“Five,” he says. He’s already fully dressed in a dark suit, no tie. “I told the pilot we’d be in our seats no later than six-thirty.”
“Here’s your hat. What’s your hurry?” I bury my face in my pillow.
“We’ll lose three hours to the time change, and I want to see Mick and Billy this afternoon.”
Just the mention of the Sergi family makes me groan.
It’s been five days since we took our walk, and I almost fell. My shoulder seems to have recovered, and Carmine called Billy Sergi, the second in command there, last night.
They granted him access to the city.
Of course, Carmine didn’t say anything about having me with him.
I drag my ass out of bed and stumble into the bathroom. After I’ve done my business and am in the steamy shower, Carmine magically appears with a cup of coffee.
“You’re a god,” I say as I take the mug and sip the hot brew. “Thanks.”
“You’re welcome. Be ready in twenty.”
He marches out again, but not before his eyes wander over my naked body.
Carmine hasn’t made any moves on me in the weeks we were at the penthouse. He’s kept things completely platonic.
And I know that it was my insistence that ensured we didn’t have sex.
Sex muddies the waters. Clouds judgment.
And sex with Carmine is so fucking good, I would be a quivering pile of sexual need twenty-four-seven if we started something physical.
But damn, I miss the sex. And judging by the look in Carmine’s eyes when he walked away, he does, too.
I let the hot water and caffeine wake me up, and thirty minutes later—much to his annoyance—I’m ready to go.
“It’s a good thing I packed last night,” I say. “Or I would have been late.”
His brow lifts, and I can’t help but laugh.
I’m back in business-mode, dressed in black slacks, a white silk shirt, and a red scarf. Tall, black Louboutin heels complete the outfit, and when I stand next to Carmine, I’m only a few inches shorter than he is.
“Those shoes do things to me,” he mutters.
“I know.” I tuck my makeup bag under my arm and follow him into the elevator. When we reach the garage, the driver meets us and tucks our bags into the trunk.
Because it’s so early, traffic to the airfield isn’t crazy. We don’t go to SeaTac. Instead, we’re driven to Boeing Field, where many private planes come and go.
The driver parks near the Martinelli jet, and before long, we’re tucked safely inside, coffee at our elbows, and a flight attendant at our beck and call.
I don’t like the way she ogles Carmine.
Not that he’s mine. He’s not. But I still don’t like it.
“Have you fucked her?” I ask quietly.
He frowns down at me. “Who?”
“Her.” I don’t look up at the flight attendant.
“Look at me.”
I don’t do as he asks. I won’t look at him and show him the vulnerability in my eyes. It pisses me off that it’s there in the first place.
“Nadia.”
“Forget I asked. Let’s talk about how high-maintenance you are, Carmine. Why can’t we just take a commercial flight to New York? First class is pretty swanky these days.”
“Your father has a jet.”
“Yeah, for him to use. The only time I’m on it is if I’m traveling with him. I’m okay with a normal flight.”
“Must I remind you that you’re carrying a ten-thousand-dollar handbag?”
I glance down at my Birkin and smile. “I never forget about my bag. But it was a gift. And a one-time purchase. It doesn’t cost me anything to maintain it.”
“You’re decked out in luxury brands from head to toe, Nadia. You live well. I won’t apologize for doing the same. We all have things we’re willing to splurge on. This is one of mine. I fund every flight I take on this jet. Not the family. And because I’ve been savvy with my money, I can afford the luxury.”
“Hey, I’m not irresponsible with my money.” I poke him in the side. “I just don’t have a fancy portfolio.”
“I’m going to help you with that.”
“Why would you do that?”
“Because it’s important to have investments. It only adds to your independence. And after what you told me about your lack of trust with your family, I think it’s imperative that you’re dependent on them as little as possible.”
I stare at him, my mouth agape. “You’re worried about me.”
He rolls his eyes. “Don’t be silly.”
“You like me,” I continue, teasing him. “I think you like me, like me, Carmine Martinelli. What will people say?”
“Stop talking.”
“The next thing you know, you’ll be pledging your undying love and proposing. I don’t want to have babies, Carmine. I’m telling you that now?—”
The next thing I know, I’m trapped against the back of the seat, and he’s kissing the hell out of me. This isn’t a playful peck to get me to stop talking. It’s passionate, full of frustration and lust, and I hear the moan coming out of my throat as I sink my fingers into his dark hair and hang on tight as he takes me on an erotic ride.
“That’ll teach you to shut up when I tell you to,” he mutters against my lips as the plane taxis down the runway. “And the answer to your question is, no. I’ve never fucked her.”
I clear my throat as he backs away and returns to his seat, settles in.
“It’s none of my business.”
“Keep telling yourself that, sweetheart.”
“Maybe I should stay here.”
We’ve been in the suite at the Four Seasons for an hour. The space is decorated in black and white, all modern and clean and completely sterile.
It’s beautiful, most likely costs a small fortune, and is not my style at all.
But I’d rather stay here than head into the lion’s den.
“You’re not staying here, Nadia.”
“I told you before…the Sergi family doesn’t like me, Carmine.”
That’s putting it mildly.
“What did you do, kill one of them?”
“No. I was supposed to marry Billy but I threw a fit, and my father told them never mind. It pissed them off. You know how it is when a family is supposed to marry into another.”
“Elena was supposed to marry Alex,” he says dryly. “She dodged that bullet.”
“Exactly. I dodged the same one. And they’re just not happy about it. They don’t trust us now.”
“When did this happen?”
“Six years ago.”
He whistles between his teeth. “That’s a long time, Nadia. If all’s been quiet since then, I’d think they’ve moved on and have other things to be mad about.”
“Yeah, well, you’d think.” I bite my lip. “Still, I’ll just hang out here and wait for you.”
“No, you’ll come with me. But I suggest you change out of those heels.”
I shake my head, resigned to my fate. “They’re a weapon if I need them. And I can run in them as easily as I can in my sneakers. I also have a concealed sidearm on me.”
“Where?”
I smirk. “I’m not telling you that.”
He saunters over to me. “Maybe I’ll find it for myself later.”
“You can try.”
His jaw tightens as he looks me over with hungry eyes, but he only swallows and turns away.
“Let’s go. The sooner we do this, the quicker we can start asking questions in other areas of the city. This is a courtesy call to say hello and let them know what we’re up to.”
“Great.”
The Sergi’s headquarters is located in downtown Manhattan, right in the middle of all the action. The building looks innocent enough.
But I would bet every cent I have in the bank—which is more than Carmine expects, and that I invested just fine, thank you very much—that the things that happen in this building would turn Carmine’s hair white.
I take a deep breath as he holds the door for me. We’re shown into an office where Billy and his father Mick sit.
Mick’s the boss.
Billy does his bidding.
It’s all very customary as far as mafia families go.
“It’s good to see you, Mick,” Carmine says. But, suddenly, Mick flies to his feet, and guns are drawn, all pointed our way.
“What the fuck is she doing here?”