36. Let Her Go
let her go
. . .
Sadie
Sadie’s Guide to Hostage-Taking Being Taken Hostage Forming a Partnership with Your Hostage Embracing the Hostage Lifestyle Not Freaking Out, Tip #21: Don’t underestimate mafia staff. Chefs have extensive knife training.
My head shot up, and I sagged in relief—Antonio stood on the other side of Mr. Reed. He glared at the man holding my arm with a fury I never would’ve expected from him. Cold and unforgiving, it hit me with a fresh spike of fear, even though it wasn’t directed at me. He held none of his earlier warmth, but I didn’t care—I’d never been happier to see someone.
“Antonio!” I cried. “Thank goodness?—”
The grip on my arm tightened enough to make me stifle a cry, and Sebastian shifted to look over his shoulder. “Nice of you to join us, Tony.”
The chef’s hard expression didn’t waver. “If you’d like to keep your hand attached to your body, I suggest you remove it from the boss’s girl.”
The cold warning sent a chill skittering down my spine. I tried to pull away again, but Mr. Reed’s grip was ironclad.
“Relax,” he drawled. “I’m just getting to know your little helper.”
“Let the girl go, Sebastian,” Antonio repeated. His deceptive calm—like a predator who knew he’d cornered his prey—made my heart skip a beat when it wasn’t even targeted at me. “You know what I can do with a blade.”
Sebastian chuckled before carelessly pushing me away and holding up his hands. “Someone’s touchy today. Who pissed in your pesto?”
I staggered a few steps back, then darted around the corner of the island and tugged on my top to straighten it.
As Davian’s father stepped back, I sucked in a breath. Antonio held a four-inch knife to Mr. Reed’s side with an ease that told me his knife skills extended beyond the kitchen.
This clearly wasn’t the first time he’d held a blade on someone.
Antonio’s gaze flicked to me, narrowing. “You good, dolcezza ?”
My arm throbbed in time with my heartbeat, but I rubbed it and forced a shaky nod. “Yes. Thank you.”
He refocused on Mr. Reed. “The boss is waiting for you in his office.”
It wasn’t a suggestion, and Mr. Reed didn’t miss that either. Amusement danced in his dark eye.
“Careful, Tony,” he warned softly. “You’re getting too big for your britches if you think you can pull a knife on me with no consequences.”
“Davian wouldn’t like what you were doing. I work for him.”
I blanched at the show of defiance, but Mr. Reed actually smiled , tight and calculating. “And who does Davian work for?”
The answering silence was deafening.
“Who does he work for, Tony?” he repeated in that same dangerous tone, but Antonio stayed stone-faced.
That was when I saw the knife Mr. Reed held a hair’s width from Antonio’s side, and I jerked back—when had he drawn that?
“Please don’t hurt him,” I squeaked, searching the countertops for anything that’d do more damage than the piping bag. Where did Antonio keep his knives?
Mr. Reed snorted, but he kept his focus on Antonio. “Look at her defending the help. The surprises keep on coming.”
I ran to the other counter and grabbed one of the empty baking sheets—it might give us time to run if I walloped him over the head with it—when Antonio caught my eye. He shook his head in a swift, subtle jerk I almost missed, but that stopped me in my tracks. It didn’t escape Mr. Reed’s notice either, and his smile widened.
“Interesting. You know, loyal men are a dying breed in this city.” He flipped his knife up in the air—making me gasp—before deftly catching it. “I won’t complain when I see one, but it’s not too late to rethink where that loyalty lies.”
Antonio stared him down with the same deadpan look. “I’m good.”
Mr. Reed’s smile dropped, and the longest ten seconds of my life passed in a tense silence before he threw his head back with a booming laugh. His shoulders shook with the force, and I flinched.
Things only got stranger when the laughter faded to hollow chuckles, and he tapped the flat of his blade against Antonio’s bulbous nose.
Antonio stood still as a statue.
“You get funnier with age, Tony. I wish I could stay and chat, but I’m late for a meeting with my son.” Just as quickly as he’d come, Davian’s father strode to the door with heavy footfalls. I hesitantly set the baking sheet down and dared to let out a relieved breath, before he paused in the doorway and his single eye landed on me. “As for you, we’ll revisit this soon. I’m looking forward to it.”
The moment the door swung shut behind him, Antonio whirled on me so quickly I stumbled backward.
“If that man ever corners you like this again, you run in the opposite direction,” he warned, face grim. “You hear me?”
The raw intensity in his voice made me gulp, but all I could focus on was the impressive knife he’d been holding wasn’t in his hand anymore. I hadn’t seen him put it away.
I blinked twice. “Where did your knife go?”
“Sadie,” he pressed. “You run, yes?”
“Yes, I’ll run. Thank you,” I said, beyond grateful he’d come back when he had. But I frowned, because he’d left earlier to give me and Davian privacy. “What made you come back here?”
Antonio’s bushy mustache twitched. “The boss texted me to help you finish your baking.”
Ten minutes ago, fluttering would’ve filled my stomach at how thoughtful that was of Davian.
Now, it soured instead.
“Speaking of ‘the boss,’” I said carefully, brushing off the front of my skirt. Antonio would know more about what Mr. Reed had said, but my stomach twisted into knots just thinking about how to ask him. Putting on a brave face, I lifted my chin and ripped the Band-Aid off. “Is Davian getting married?”
That wiped the grimness from his face, locking a blank stare into its place. Antonio looked away, and the pause before he answered spoke volumes. “That’s none of my business.”
My heart sank. Well, that did nothing to ease my fears.
“You warned me to leave earlier,” I reminded him. “But then you changed your mind and told me to stay. Why would you do that if he’s engaged?”
He lifted a shoulder, then let it drop. “I think you’re good for the boss. I’ve never seen him like he is with you. He’s… happy.”
“Happy with his mistress?” I whispered, blinking back the tears that welled. This sort of information wasn’t something you kept from someone. It was just cruel.
Antonio grunted. “I told you. I don’t concern myself with those rumors.” He pulled a towel off the waistband of his apron and wiped his hands. “This is a discussion to have with the boss. Not me.”
He was right. Talking to Davian was exactly what I needed to do, but confronting him while his creepy father was here sounded about as pleasant as cleaning up dog vomit at the shelter.
I’d rather not.
Especially if what his father said was true. Then I wasn’t sure if I wanted to throw a stand mixer at Davian’s head or burst into tears.
So far, the tears were winning, and the last thing I needed was to cry in front of Antonio.
I had a feeling he didn’t handle weepy girls very well.
I blurted out the first excuse I could think of. “I should go check on Bear.” Brushing past Antonio, I headed for the door. “He’s been outside a long time.”
I made it across the room before remembering the state of the kitchen, and I backtracked with a wince. “Sorry about the mess. I’ll clean this up first.”
He waved me off, already wiping down the counter with his towel. “Don’t worry about it. I can take care of this. You just check on your dog, then go talk to the boss.”
Bitterness filled my mouth even thinking about it. “Thanks again, Antonio.”
I slipped into the hallway and was halfway to the back door before I realized checking on Bear wasn’t just some made-up excuse to get away from Antonio’s scrutiny.
I really needed to see a friendly furry face right now.