Chapter 8
Isabella
"You're in love with Tony Rivera?" Elena nearly spits out her martini. "Holy shit, Bella."
I sink lower in our corner booth at Lavo, grateful for the dim lighting and pulsing music that swallows our conversation. The club is packed tonight, beautiful people in designer clothes dancing and drinking like they haven't a care in the world. Must be nice.
"Not so loud, prima."
"Sorry, sorry." My cousin leans forward, eyes sparkling with interest. She looks stunning tonight in a red dress that probably cost more than most people's rent. But that's Elena - always perfectly put together, even when she's just hearing her cousin's romantic disasters. "But Tony? Mr. Tall-Dark-and-Terrifying? When did this happen?"
"While Dom was away." I trace the rim of my glass, remembering Tony's hands, his mouth, the way he looked at me before everything went to hell. "It just... happened."
"Details. I need all of them." She signals the waitress for another round. "Start at the beginning."
I tell her everything - the training sessions, the tension, the kiss that changed everything. By the time I finish, we're on our third round and Elena is shaking her head in disbelief.
"And now he won't even look at you? After all that?"
"He looks. When he thinks I won't notice." I down the rest of my drink. "But he's pulling away. Acting like nothing happened between us because God forbid we upset the precious alliance between territories."
"Men are idiots," she declares. "Especially men in our world. Always putting business first."
"It's not just business though. It's Dom. Tony won't betray his trust."
"Honorable. Stupid, but honorable." She studies me over her glass. "Have you talked to your mom about it?"
I snort. "Right. 'Hey Mom, remember that guy who runs Little Italy? The one Dom made an alliance with? Well, funny story...'"
"Your mother might surprise you. She's more understanding than you think."
"Maybe." But the thought of disappointing my mother, of causing problems for the family... "It doesn't matter anyway. Tony's made his choice."
Elena's expression softens. We've been each other's confidantes since we were kids - sharing secrets, dreams, heartbreaks. When my teenage crush married someone else, she was there with ice cream and trashy movies. When her father died last year, I stayed with her for a week, just being there.
"When was the last time you took a break?" she asks suddenly. "Got away from all this?"
I laugh. "You mean besides the constant 'business meetings' that are really just excuses for Dom to check up on me?"
"I mean a real break. Actually leaving New York." She pulls out her phone, starts scrolling. "My college roommate Rachel has this amazing ranch in Montana. Tiny town called Heart River. Middle of nowhere, absolutely gorgeous. She's always telling me to visit."
"Montana?" The idea is so absurd I have to laugh. "Me? I don't exactly do nature."
"Why not? Fresh air, beautiful views, hot mountain men..." She waggles her eyebrows. "Might be exactly what you need to get your mind off a certain mobster."
"I don't know..."
"Come on, when's the last time we had a girls' trip? We could go for a long weekend. Dom can survive without you for three days."
The music changes, something slower and sultrier filling the air. Around us, couples pull closer together on the dance floor. I try not to picture what it would be like, here with Tony, free to do as we please.
"Maybe you're right."
"I'm always right." She grins. "Let me text Rachel, see when's good."
While she taps away at her phone, I watch the crowd. A guy at the bar has been staring a bit too long. Probably just attracted to Elena - most men are - but something about him sets off warning bells.
"Rachel says next month would be perfect," Elena announces. "She's got this gorgeous guest house overlooking the river. Total privacy."
"Sounds nice." But I'm still watching the guy, who's now talking to someone on his phone while looking our way.
"Bella? You okay?"
"Yeah, just..." I shake it off. Paranoia comes with the family business. "It's getting late. We should head out."
We finish our drinks, make tentative plans for the trip. It's nearly midnight when we step out into the cool Manhattan night. The street is strangely quiet for a Thursday, most of the usual crowd still inside.
"Let me call my driver," Elena says, reaching for her phone.
"Don't bother. I've got mine waiting around the corner." I hug her tight, breathing in her familiar perfume. "Thanks for listening, prima."
"Always." She squeezes back. "Text me when you get home, okay?"
"Yes, Mom." I roll my eyes, but I'm smiling.
We separate, and I start walking toward where my driver is parked. My heels click against the pavement, echoing off buildings. The street feels too empty, too still. That prickle of unease returns.
A black SUV appears from nowhere, engine nearly silent. Before I can react, men in masks pour out. I reach for my purse - for the gun I always carry - but they're too fast.
A hand clamps over my mouth. Arms like steel bands wrap around me. I kick, bite, fight with everything I have, but there are too many of them. My elbow connects with someone's nose - I hear a satisfying crunch - but then something hard hits the back of my head.
The last thing I hear is Elena screaming my name as they throw me into the SUV.
Then darkness.