Chapter 13
Aurora
My bare feet slap against the sidewalk, each impact sending jolts of pain up my legs.
The ridiculous maid costume clings to my sweaty skin as I push through the morning crowd, ignoring the gawking.
Even though I’m countless blocks away from Alexei’s warehouse-loft-prison, I can still feel his eyes on me.
Still taste fear at the back of my throat. My fingers clench around the heels I haven’t bothered to put on. Makeshift weapons, if I need them.
Ten stories down a rusty fire escape, a terrifying dash across an open lot, and now I’m just another frantic woman in a bustling city.
Except I’m not. I witnessed a murder. Spent the night with the killer. Know things that could get my sister and me killed.
I need to think. Need to breathe. Need to figure out what the hell I’m going to do.
My mind races through the last fifteen or so hours.
The gunshot in the alley. The warm spray of Benny’s blood across my face.
His eyes going vacant. Alexei’s hand on my throat, and his breath against my ear.
The men who showed up. The casual way they discussed disposing of a body. A cold shudder ripples through me.
A businessman gives me a wide berth, his eyes sweeping over my stained costume, my wild hair, and my bare feet.
Just another Chicago crazy. Nothing to see here.
I need to get home, change into clean clothes, and call Samantha to confirm she’s okay.
But first, I have to figure out what I know that might get me killed.
The facts tumble through my head. Alexei killed Benny while investigating the death of a person named MJ. Alexei belongs to some kind of criminal organization. Russian, based on the accents, the names, and the occasional foreign phrases.
I duck into a coffee shop, desperate to get off the street, to blend in, to think. The air-conditioning hits my sweat-dampened skin like a slap. The barista glances up, her smile faltering as she absorbs my appearance.
The image of Benny’s face flashes through my mind. Benny, who I always dismissed as just another Red Bird loser trying too hard to impress girls with his prison stories. Benny, who’s lifeless body we left in an alley.
Benny, who I know more about than I told Alexei.
As the line moves forward, I search my pockets and realize my tips from last night are missing.
Great. I have no money. No phone. No ID.
Just this stupid costume and a pair of heels.
I step out of the queue, ignoring the barista’s suspicious glare, and find a table in the back corner, as far from the windows as possible.
I sift through everything I’ve learned about Benny over the last few months.
For starters, I knew exactly who Benny was meeting at Red Bird’s last night.
Johnny, his half-brother. They meet at the bar once a week, huddled in the corner booth, with their heads bent close together.
Sometimes they argue. Sometimes they’re friendly.
Either way, there’s always a tension between them I try to steer clear of.
I don’t even know why I lied to Alexei about that. Some instinct to protect the living, maybe. Johnny seems like a decent guy. He doesn’t deserve to end up like his brother.
What else did I hold back? The memory swims up, clear and terrible.
A shiver runs through me that has nothing to do with the air-conditioning.
Benny was at Gio Falcone’s mansion.
Salvatore Giovanni Harrison Falcone. The rich, handsome, and dangerous man hosts elaborate parties at his estate, where the lines between the elite and the underworld of Chicago blur into a single glittering facade.
Red Bird’s occasionally sends girls out there to serve drinks, and I’ve worked more than one of those events.
The last time was three months ago.
A party celebrating…some business deal or political win. Who knows? The rich and powerful love to flaunt themselves. Wearing a black cocktail dress, I carried trays of champagne through rooms where a single painting cost more than my yearly rent.
Gio watched me throughout the night, his dark eyes tracking me as I moved between guests. At first, his attention flattered me. Gio Falcone noticing little Aurora Bailey from the South Side. There’s power in being seen by powerful men.
And danger.
He’d even purchased one of my mosaics. For one shining moment, I let myself believe he actually liked my art. That Gio Falcone, with all his money and influence, saw something special in what I created. That sale had earned me a thousand dollars.
Now I’m pretty sure the universe is coming to collect, with interest.
Because later that same night, I overheard an exchange I shouldn’t have. One that connects directly to Benny Parker and his senseless murder.
I was refreshing drinks in the east wing when I passed a study, the door slightly ajar. Voices drifted out, Gio’s smooth baritone and another higher-pitched and nervous one. I slowed my steps, balanced my cocktail tray on one hand, and peered through the crack to see if they needed anything.
Benny’s in Gio’s study, sweating through his cheap suit, hands fidgeting at his sides.
Gio lounges against his desk, his posture relaxed but possessing that menacing stillness predators have just before they strike.
“...took the money, and you’re not getting any more.” The edge in Gio’s low voice prickles my skin. “Now shut your fucking mouth! And don’t get greedy. Greedy gets you dead.”
Confusion washes over me as I hover by the door, frozen and unable to move. Benny, the loser who hangs out at Red Bird’s, the ex-con with the bad tips and worse pickup lines, has no business being in Gio Falcone’s private study. He’s like a cockroach at a royal ball.
“But he said—”
“He said shit.” Gio’s voice hardens as he cuts off Benny’s whine.
“He clammed up. I looked that man in the eye, and he lied to me. Played dumb about it…thought he could play me. Keep quiet about that chaos on the island and keep the diamonds for himself. Idiot. Now he’s out of the picture. And it stays that way.”
Diamonds? An island? The tray in my hand trembles. I hold my breath, terrified they’ll hear me, but the conversation continues.
Minutes pass as I attempt to weave some sense out of what I just heard.
That’s when Gio’s eyes slide to the half-open door and find me, loitering like an idiot with a tray of drinks. For a heartbeat, I consider running. But where? How far would I get?
Instead, I push the door open, pretending I’ve just arrived. “Fresh drinks, Mr. Falcone?”
Benny spins around, face pale with shock and fear. Gio’s expression shifts from murderous to charming, a transformation so complete it would be impressive if I weren’t so frightened.
“Aurora.” My name in his mouth is a violation. “Perfect timing. We could use a refresh.”
I enter, setting down fresh glasses with hands that miraculously don’t shake before collecting the empties. Smile like I haven’t heard a word. But as I pivot to leave, Gio catches my arm, his grip deceptively gentle.
“Stay a moment.” His eyes hold mine, searching. “Did you hear anything interesting while standing by that door?”
“I just got here, sir.” The lie comes out just a little too fast and smooth.
“Hmm.” He trails his fingers up my arm, raising goosebumps. “You know, you’re quite a beautiful woman, Aurora.”
“Thank you, Mr. Falcone.” My voice is distant, like it belongs to someone else.
“Beautiful.” He leans closer, his breath warm against my ear. “And if you open your mouth, you’ll make a beautiful corpse.”
Ice floods my veins. I pull back to find him smiling, but his eyes are cold and calculating.
He releases my arm and steps back. “Let me be clear. What you just heard never happened. You open your mouth, and your sister stops breathing. Understand?”
My blood turns to slush. “My sister?”
“Samantha, right? Pre-med at Northwestern. Scholarship student.” His smile widens. “Shame if something happened to her. An accident.”
How the hell does he know about Samantha? The details of her life? Mafia guys know things, I guess. Or they pay people to know things for them.
Drawing in a slow breath, I force myself to meet his gaze. “I heard nothing, because you were alone in here and I wasn’t working tonight.”
“Good girl.” He reaches out to tuck a strand of hair behind my ear.
I shake myself back to the present, the coffee shop coming into focus around me. My hands quiver in my lap.
A hysterical laugh rises in my chest. Since last night, I’ve been terrified of what Alexei might do to me when Gio Falcone has known where to find me, as well as Samantha, for months.
Now, I’ve managed to get tangled up in the affairs of not one, but two, very menacing men.
No. I refuse to be involved in this shit show any longer.
I push myself up from the table, ignoring the stares that track me as I walk, barefoot, disheveled, and sporting a bloodstained maid costume, toward the door. I’ll get home, check on Samantha, and go back to work at Red Bird’s like nothing happened.
Smart girls keep their mouths shut and don’t whisper words like “diamonds” to men like Alexei. They protect their sisters and pretend they never heard a thing.