Chapter 1
Mia
When you’re a mafia boss’s daughter, someone always wants to kill you. It’s a fact. Look it up. There’s a bounty on your head the day you’re born. Sad, but true. Can’t a girl just watch Netflix without her father’s nemesis planning a sneak attack? Is that too much to ask?
“You can’t change your mind. You have to leave, Mia,” Sophia says, raising her dark brows along with her voice. “Bishop will be here tonight to kidnap you.”
“How can you be so sure?” We’ve been friends since she came to work for my family as a housekeeper, so I trust her, but I don’t know about this plan anymore. She’s been searching for the elusive Bishop Blackstone for years.
“Someone told me,” she turns to stare out the tall glass windows of my skyrise condo on the Upper East Side, “but I can’t say who.”
“Right, ok.” I rush across the hardwoods into my bedroom, gathering a few last-minute personal items. “Wouldn’t it be easier to just let my father deal with this?” I poke my head out of the walk-in closet. “He would enjoy taking care of it, I’m sure.”
Bishop isn’t my enemy, per se, but he is the enemy of my father. Georgio DeWinter runs the largest crime outfit in New York City.
“We went over this already,” Sophia says, resting her shoulder against the doorframe, watching as I hustle from the closet to the mahogany armoire in the room’s corner. “It’s important no one suspects anything, so Bishop suspects nothing. He’s mine to kill.”
I spin around and stare at her. “What if he kills you right here in my bed?” It’s a fair question. If Bishop hurt Sophia, I would never forgive myself.
“Don’t worry about me, everything will be okay.” Sophia crosses to where I’m now frozen, sneakers stuck to the thick, white rug beneath them, and places both hands on my shoulders, staring into my eyes. “I need you to stick with the plan. Don’t panic. You’re going to leave, acting like me. In my clothes.”
“Ok, got it. No panic.” It’s a good thing Sophia and I look alike. Long brown hair, brown eyes. But, if anyone looked closely enough, they’d know. The security firm my father hired to protect me sits just outside my front door, but hopefully, I can slip past my guards and make it out of this place. “Again, what if Bishop kills you?”
“He won’t,” she says with enough conviction for me to believe it. “He wants you alive. He’s going to take all four daughters, make your fathers think they have a choice and a fighting chance, and then he’s going to murder you all.”
I shiver at the thought of what Bishop wants to do to us. “You’re positive about this?”
“Yes.” She drops her hands. “What did you tell Sebastian at your job about why you wouldn’t be there?”
“Nothing. He hasn’t been at the restaurant.”
She tilts her head. “Why?”
“I don’t know. No one will tell me anything.”
Something is definitely out of sorts. Not only is Sebastian my father’s business partner, they’re best friends, so the fact my father won’t discuss Sebastian Cain isn’t lost on me.
“That’s strange,” she says. “He’s run your father’s restaurant for years.”
He’s also been a pain in my butt at the restaurant for years. Osteria Dei Mascalzoni , which roughly translates to ‘Tavern of Scoundrels,’ fits Sebastian perfectly. A gorgeous scoundrel is still a scoundrel. I’m not dumb, and I know from working there that the restaurant is also a front for my father’s dirty deeds. Sebastian takes the power of running the place directly to his head. He likes being in charge. I think he gets off on being in control over me. Working with him, having him constantly tell me no when I try to expand the events department is infuriating.
“You sure you’re going to be ok?” I ask once more, shoulders drooping with worry.
“Trust me.”
“I do trust you.” I just hope she’s smart enough to get away. If she can kill Bishop, then I won’t need to stay away. Everything can go back to the way it was, where everyone is safe.
Sophia removes her hat and hoodie, and I slip them on. The sun is shining so I can get away with wearing sunglasses as well. Security shouldn’t even look twice at me. Hopefully.
“Do you have cash like I told you to get?” Sophia asks, perching on the edge of the bed.
“Yes. I have more than enough to buy clothes and whatever else I’ll need. What about you? Do you have money to hide once you do the job?”
Sophia smiles. “Mia, I’m fine. Don’t worry.”
She’s so badass. Sometimes I wish I were more like her. I know she’ll kill Bishop and get this whole mess cleared up for the Four Families. If anyone can do it, she can. Once, and only once, I went to a kickboxing class with her. She straight up murdered the bag. Even the instructor said she was lethal. She studies all the martial arts. The only workouts I do are running around the restaurant when I’ve got back-to-back events scheduled.
“I’m not worried.” I fake smile back, because I’m totally worried. Swarms of butterflies soar in my belly when I exchange purses with Sophia. “I can’t believe we’re really doing this. Are we really doing this?”
Sophia stares at me with what I can only describe as an older sisterly look. “Yes, we are. You’re going to get out of town. You have the contact information of your friend?”
I nod. “Yes, I have her number.” A girl I work with named Gretchen said I could crash with her for a few weeks. Not too many people know about her quaint little home in Southern Georgia, so no one should find me there.
“Good, don’t tell me where or the name. You have everything you need?”
“I do.” I hold up the phone I bought yesterday. “Burner is ready, so no one can track me.”
Sophia tilts her head. “Wait, what did you do to the phone?”
I laugh a little. “It’s dazzle.”
“It’s called a burner phone for a reason.” She grabs the phone from my hand and turns it over to inspect the diamanté diamonds I stuck to the back side.
“It’ll be fine. No one will even notice.”
She hands the phone back to me. “Try not to flash it around.”
I drop it in my handbag. “Once it’s over, you’ll call me?”
“I don’t have your number.”
I grab the phone and open it, looking for the number to it. “I’ll text you the number.”
Sophia places her hands over mine. “No, don’t. If things go south and Bishop tortures me, it’s best I know nothing. Call your father in three weeks to see if it’s safe for you to come home.”
I hug her. “I’m so nervous.”
“Everything will be okay.”
We step apart. “The security detail shouldn’t come into the house. They’ll just sit outside the door all night, watching and waiting.”
Sophia laughs a little. “I can handle them.”
“Okay, wish me luck,” I say with a smile and a little twist of my hips.
“Luck.”
I step out the front door, ignoring the two security men, Kellan and Jude, behind their station across from the door. I pull out my phone, pretending I’m busily texting someone, tapping away on it, and cross to the elevator.
Breathe.
Be cool.
The doors slide open when I press the button, and I step inside, keeping my back to the guards. So far, so good. I hit the lobby button with the palm of my hand and pretend I’m so involved with the phone.
“Hold the door,” Kellan calls out.
Ugh. I need to breathe, or I may just hyperventilate and ruin the entire plan. As if I’m going to oblige his request, I turn around and reach toward the panel, accidentally on purpose pushing the door close button.
Wasted effort, because the guard slips his hand through the opening just as the doors almost slam shut… and they whoosh back open.
He steps inside. “Thanks.”
I mumble an unintelligible word back and tap frantically on my phone, pretending I’m in a heated argument with someone. Oh, maybe a boyfriend. Yes, a boyfriend who sends me flowers all the time. Obviously, he must screw up a lot to send me frequent flowers. Asshole. Maybe that’s why we’re in a fight right now.
I’m so involved in my make-believe story, I pay no attention to the man when he speaks.
“I asked if you’re having a good day?”
“Sorry.” I laugh, too high key and off pitch. “Boyfriend troubles.” And then, I’m back to tapping so he’ll leave me alone.
He chuckles. “Well, hopefully he apologizes.”
I say nothing back and breathe a sigh of relief when the elevator reaches the lobby. The doors slide open and I rush out as the guard says have a nice day.
I don’t even bother answering him. He can think Sophia is a bitch all he wants. Ha. I laugh at the thought for a moment.
Warm sunshine hits my face as I step onto the sidewalk.
I made it.
Freedom.
I stick to the plan—head south and get to the subway station as quickly as I can.
Before anyone figures out I’m on the loose.
It feels like a million eyes are on me as I weave through people on the sidewalk, so I lift the hood over my hair and hat, hustling away as fast as I can. The subway entrance is only a few feet away when a car screeches to a halt next to me. Coincidence, I’m sure. No one knows who I am. No one knows I’m even here.
A tall man wearing dark clothing exits from the backseat of the sedan. Instinct propels my feet faster towards the stairs. But not fast enough. The man grabs my arm, and before I can scream, a rough, solid hand slaps over my mouth. My feet lift from the street and I kick them as I’m thrown into the back of the car, screaming at the top of my lungs as the car speeds away.
“No, you can’t do this.”
Everything happens so fast. My captor throws a bag over my head before I can see him and ties my hands behind my back. I wiggle against the restraint, but it’s futile. I’m trapped in darkness, listening.
I’ve seen many movies where the captive can’t see anything while in the back of the car and they listen to sounds and pinpoint exactly where they are, so later they can tell someone, and everything ends happily ever after.
Well, those movies lie, because I hear nothing except the sounds of my rapid breaths against the burlap sack over my head. And the loud music playing inside the car. I’m sure all of New York can hear it. Hmm, maybe they’ve seen the same movies, and don’t want me to listen for anything?
Tears burn my throat, knowing Bishop has captured me and I won’t escape the torture he has in store for me. My plan with Sophia is down the drain. Her words rush back to me. How he’ll kidnap me, take me somewhere and torture me, and then kill me.
I cry harder, feeling weak in this moment. It would horrify Sophia that I’m giving up without trying to escape. If you want to be a badass, think like a badass. Just like in the movies, I shift my body and reach up behind me to make one more attempt to free myself. Oh, it works. My hand hits the handle of the door, and I grasp it, wondering if I could open the door and fall out. Tuck and roll. I have no idea how fast we’re going, or how much traffic is around, so hmm. I’d probably kill myself falling out into moving traffic.
Maybe when the car slows down, I can open the door and lean out.
A woman with a burlap sack over her head should raise suspicion.
I sit still, with my hand gripped so hard on the handle I swear it’ll leave a mark, waiting for an opportunity to escape.
Finally, the car slows, coming to a stop. I take a deep breath and yank on the handle. The door opens, and I fly out sideways, but a hand grips my arm, pulling me back inside the vehicle.
The man’s hard body presses against me as he slams the door shut.
“Jesus Christ, Mia,” he swears.
That voice. I’ve heard it before.
I know that voice but can’t place it.
When you’re in a life and death situation, remembering details about your life is hard. My fight-or-flight reflexes have kicked in, completely in fight mode, and I can’t think straight.
But I know this voice.
I try to harness my inner Sophia-badass and slam my foot into his leg.
“Goddammit, Mia,” he growls out. “Sit still. I’m not trying to hurt you.”
“Ha,” I say, slamming my body against his. “Let me out.”
“Just calm down.” That voice.
I know it.
I remember it.
I stop, tears threatening to spill. “Sebastian?”
He rips off the burlap sack and I stare into the piercing blue eyes of Sebastian Cain, my father’s best friend.