Chapter 8
CHAPTER EIGHT
I sighed as I looked around the bustling New York café, the aroma of freshly brewed coffee mingling with the chatter of Fee’s acquaintances. Maybe it wasn’t such a good idea to have come to the city.
Not when my mind was a million miles away, consumed by the feeling of impending doom.
I’d visited Mr. Slatov. And he’d given me one hard, very long look, which almost made me bolt. I was not built for this shit, and for a split second, I almost wished my dad would’ve inoculated me with all things mob business instead of keeping us girls as sheltered and as far removed as he could. Well, apparently, it would take at least a week until my new ID was ready, so all I could do was wait until then—if it wasn’t too late.
Because, honestly, every time I thought about my last chat with Iset, I was flipping back and forth between panic-attack territory and existential regret.
Fee squeezed my hand, her eyes filled with concern. “You okay? You seem…distracted.”
I forced a smile. I didn’t want to dampen her mood with my worries. She’d been so excited to meet with her friends. In that regard, Fee was the exact opposite of me. She was the social butterfly while I’d been socially awkward for as long as I could remember. “Yeah, I’m fine. Just thinking about…stuff.”
Stuff. If that wasn’t the understatement of the year.
In mere months, my life had become a tangled web of secrets.
After the event that started it all. After the three of us came back from Italy, all three of us changed. Cara retreated even more into her books, Sophie into her room, and I decided to change my life, to finally start living.
Sitting naked in that dark room. Waiting for someone to come and take me, I’d realized that I hadn’t really lived. I’d indulged in my interest in coding and hacking, had wasted way too much of my time gaming. But outside of my room, I’d done what was expected of me.
When Sophie’s husband and his brothers rescued us, that’s when I decided I needed to start living.
It was a bit ironic where that decision got me.
Because here I was. About to be married off to some Italian mobster, or, depending on what might happen this weekend, my name might be on a list of hackers, ending up in the hands of God-knows-who.
So the threat of exposure vs. the threat of permanent imprisonment through marriage? Hard to believe but my decisions really led to my life still being shit.
I sighed. But let’s be real. Everything beat being held prisoner waiting for your turn to be raped. I shuddered.
So what if that marriage loomed over me like a guillotine while the potential danger lurked just around the corner?
Having to choose, I much preferred this even though my life was a complete shit show.
“Don’t you agree?” Fee said and bumped her shoulder into me.
I froze for a split second. I had no freaking clue what she was talking about, but then, I just nodded, which, apparently, was the right answer because Fee’s friends continued with their conversation.
Only Fee narrowed her eyes and kept her focus on me while the conversation flowed around us.
I couldn’t do this much longer. Somehow being here felt too much. Too exposed, too vulnerable, which was hilarious, because I knew for a fact that outside the café were at least two of Alex’s men to guard Fee, in addition to my very own personal security detail—my father had insisted on sending them with me.
But what good would that do me if my identity was up for auction to the highest bidder?
My heart raced at the thought, and I couldn’t help but scan the café, half expecting to see someone lurking in a corner just waiting for me.
Ever since my little chat with Iset, each potential scenario in my head was more outlandish than the last. What if someone was contacting my dad right now? What if someone was watching me?
I wanted to hide, just disappear, not be out here, feeling incredibly exposed while pretending everything was okay. Should I even meet Iset? Maybe together, we could face this threat head-on with the skills and determination that had gotten us this far.
Skill and determination. Laughable. I couldn’t even stand my ground against Vince Salvini. How would I ever succeed if a whole crime syndicate came after me?
I stole a glance at Fee, her laughter ringing out like a bell.
At least her attention wasn’t on me any longer. She knew me too well, and since Italy, we’d become even more like sisters—not that I needed another big sister.
Wasn’t it amazing, this growing family of ours—spanning multiple continents? Sophie met Gabe, Fee, and Alex… They had found their well-deserved happiness. And I would not put a damper on their happiness.
No. I fucked up their lives enough by getting them kidnapped. Fee and Sophie sacrificed themselves for me and Cara back in that dark basement. Even after Sophie was gone, Fee’s determination never wavered.
I could not fuck it up for them. Not again. This was my shit to deal with. My responsibility.
Now the question was, did I trust Iset enough to meet up with her and join forces?
I opened the camera roll on my phone and stared at the digits I’d jotted down and photographed.
Fuck. I really didn’t know what to do.
I moved to another photo—one I hadn’t looked at for quite some time. The image of smiling children filled me with a sense of happiness. I’d started volunteering at the emergency shelter through our church a couple summers ago. Thank God, Dad had been borderline ecstatic when I’d asked for permission.
My thumb scrolled through the pictures, each one a snapshot of joy amidst the harsh realities these kids and their mothers had faced. A young girl with pigtails—Carly—beamed at the camera, clutching a new stuffed animal to her chest while her mother pushed her on the new swing set. A swing set afforded through an anonymous donation.
A pang of emotion gripped my chest. This was why I did what I did, why we did what we did.
To provide these kids with what they needed while taking from those who already had too much and who acquired it through illegal means or exploiting others’ weaknesses—especially someone’s gambling addiction.
If I took on a new identity, a new life, could I go back to volunteering? Could I make a tangible difference in the lives of those who had been left behind by society?
I might’ve been born into the privilege of my family’s dirty business…didn’t mean I had to accept it.
Never accept what is. If you can change it. You must.
That was one of the last things my mom taught me before she died.
I went back to the picture of Iset’s number, searched my bag for a piece of paper, and jotted it down again.
My gut told me she was on my side. We’d had too many conversations. If anyone had the same values as I did, it was her. And I was almost certain Iset was a woman.
I would take the risk.
Without taking risks, living is merely existing —another one of my mom’s teachings. Maybe I remembered more of her than I thought I did.
And I didn’t want to live without making an impact.
So what if I was facing threats? It all seemed insignificant compared to the impact I could have. These children, these women, were helped by me.
And I would find a new way to contribute.
Maybe this time legally, which made me smile. Leaving this life behind would open up a whole new world of opportunities.
I would find my own way, for sure.
I abruptly stood and startled Fee next to me. “I need to make a call; I’ll just be a second.”
She stared at me, and I could see the concern in her eyes. I would bet anything she would be on the phone with Sophie or Cara in the next couple of hours staging an intervention.
I winked at her and grinned. “Chill. It’s just a phone call. I’m not planning on doing anything crazy…” Yet. Though I would need to get away later if I wanted to meet with Iset—and Fee had already been suspicious when I ran out this morning to meet Mr. Slatov.
Fee nodded, and I grabbed my bag and my phone and went towards the entrance.
Should I call or text?
And where would be the safest place to meet?
I took a deep breath and steeled my nerves as I stared at the digits scribbled on the crumpled piece of paper. Would it be awkward? How should I introduce myself? Maybe I should just text her and take it from there.
What would happen then?
Also, I should’ve gotten a burner phone, as well. What if she tracked my number? What if she wasn’t who she pretended to be?
Maybe contacting Iset wasn’t a good idea after all.
Oh, for fuck’s sake.
I groaned. Once I made contact, there would be no turning back—did I trust her or not?
My gaze drifted towards the cafe’s glass front door and to the bustling street outside.
Alex and Fee chose the cafe, so when we came here, I didn’t even consciously take in the surroundings. Did that mean this was Salvini territory?
And there he was—Vince Salvini—emerging from the building across the street.
I did a double take and pushed my face against the glass frame.
Holy hell. This was like an on-steroid version of a bad horror movie where just thinking about the Anti-Christ was enough to conjure him up. You didn’t even need to stand in front of the bathroom mirror and say his name five times.
Was it really him?
I focused on his face. He looked disheveled, his usually impeccable appearance a bit rougher around the edges. Apparently, he hadn’t shaved since he’d visited us, and his longish black hair was slicked back, wet—did he just take a shower?
A picture of Vince Salvini naked with water dripping down his broad chest entered my mind uninvited, and I inhaled at the pang of…surprise that shot right through me. Because it sure as shit wasn’t lust I was feeling. Not when it came to Vince Salvini.
Vince turned around, grabbed the shoulder of the man next to him, and smiled before he jokingly shoved him back toward the door they’d just exited.
I looked up, and the sign above the door read, “Dom’s GYM—MMA.”
Dom’s gym? The other guy locked the door before he turned back to Vince.
So was the other guy Dom, and this was his gym?
And why would Vince Salvini, the feared head of the Salvini Mafia family, just train in a random gym? The juxtaposition was almost comical, and yet, there was something undeniably intriguing about watching him, about seeing this side of him.
He seemed…human in a way he hadn’t before.
Well, I’d seen him twice: once in Dublin when he first started his crazy demands and the only other time back in our library.
Both times, he was dressed in all-black: black suit, black mood, black soul.
Raw yet sophisticated. Sleek and deadly.
I scanned him from head to toe. He was dressed in all-black again. But yet, he seemed different.
Was it the way he interacted with the other guy? Their body language was comfortable and familiar as they joked around. And Salvini even cracked a smile when the other man grabbed his ass. An unexpected flicker of curiosity stirred within me. Who was this man to Salvini? A friend? A lover, perhaps?
The idea of the brooding Mafia boss having a same-sex romantic partner was oddly fascinating and strangely satisfactory.
“Not as untouchable as you pretend to be, are you?” I murmured, then stepped aside when a couple appeared on the other side of the glass door I was staring through.
The guy opened the door and held it open for me.
I stepped outside, just to avoid any weirdness, and stared after the two men as they continued down the sidewalk, arm in arm.
Huh?
Fascinating indeed. I wouldn’t have pegged him as out in the open.
I waited for them to get into a car, and indeed, Vince stopped, opened the trunk of a sleek, black Mercedes Cabrio, and put his bag inside before closing it again.
The other guy said something, and Vince shook his ass.
Shook his ass…like…I couldn’t even.
What the ever-loving fuck? Who was this guy?
Vince turned and gave his friend the middle finger, and I followed their interaction, completely transfixed.
I would’ve never thought, not in a million years, that I’d ever see Vince Salvini shake his ass for another man, in public and broad daylight.
I chuckled.
This was a rare glimpse into Salvini’s personal life, a side he surely kept well-guarded from prying eyes. At least, I would’ve thought he would. Because how else would he keep his reputation intact—sans the booty-swinging?
Hell. What else didn’t I know about the man who was the biggest threat to my freedom?
What if I could uncover something about him and his mysterious companion, something I could use to blackmail him and make him abandon his ridiculous idea of an arranged marriage?
I grinned and, without a second thought, I started walking, my phone clutched tightly in my hand as I trailed after them at a safe distance.
This was my chance to turn the tables, to gain the upper hand in this twisted game of power and manipulation.
Vince Salvini, you should’ve been more careful.