Chapter 8 – Penelope
J ust as Massimo promised, there was no blowback for me going with him on the nocturnal run. In fact, it felt like Uncle Tito was proud of me on some level. He made sure to smile more at the two breakfasts where we sat together as a family. He asked my opinion on several trivial matters. While I didn’t think the answers I gave were profound, he listened. That had to be worth something. It made me want to work harder to show him my worth. I would serve this organization, I would pull my weight—I would save my mom.
So when he called me into his office, I was ready to be put to work.
“A date,” I repeated.
Uncle Tito nodded before leaning forward to rest his double chin on the steepled fingers. “Jax is very eager to meet you.”
I opened my mouth, thought better of the snarky response, and closed it.
“He’ll pick you up around seven,” my uncle added.
Be brave! I could do it. I could stand up for myself. I knew my own worth, even if he didn’t. “Respectfully, is there some other reason you want me to spend an evening with the capo?”
The pause was unreadable. My uncle studied me for a few beats before finally agreeing. “Such a smart girl.”
The muscles in my shoulders relaxed. Tito did have a legitimate reason for wanting me to interact with his soldier. I wasn’t being shown off like a prized heifer. There was more to this, and I passed whatever test my uncle just put before me.
I gave him a bright smile. “Thank you.”
Tito chuckled. “I need to make sure my men are loyal. They’re more likely to lower their guard around someone…like you.”
Excitement teemed in my veins. Uncle Tito was making me his own personal spy! “Anything in particular you suspect him of?”
Tito shrugged, lips pressing like a duck. “Nah, just feel him out.”
“And he’ll probably boast to impress me,” I surmised. “Alright, easy. Done!”
“I knew you were the right person for the job.” Tito smiled.
Fueled by his praise, I left his office with a pep in my step. The first stop was to collect Poppy, who was reading an ARC book by the pool, and then she could help me find something to wear.
“I think I would like to have a bookish account,” she confided as we hustled upstairs. “Help authors promote these new releases. Like the social media ones you showed me!”
I squeezed her arm. “That’d be great!”
“We can’t actually be on social media. Too much of a risk.” She slipped a lock of hair behind her ear. “But I could do a faceless one, right?”
“Right! I find some of my favorite reads from other readers. It can be a great community.” And it’s official. I’ve corrupted my little cousin.
“The only drawback is how much Signor Mancini will monitor my phone,” she said reluctantly.
I frowned. “He would do that?”
But I knew the answer before she nodded. “Probably. I expect the same kind of rules Papà has.”
Insufferable! How could she be willing to do this? I chewed on the situation as we looked through my small suitcase. We changed the conversation from the unfairness of her restrictive world to my evening plans. I didn’t tell her I was spying on her dad’s capo, but only that one of his men asked to spend time with me. That made her perk up.
After laying my clothes over the bed, I swept my hand over them. “What do you think?”
“You only brought the one dress?” my cousin gently nudged.
“Well, yeah.” I fumbled. “So you think the dress?”
“If you want the date to go well. Do you think you would ever fall for someone like Jax? Someone on the…inside?” She gave me a funny look.
But it wasn’t me who I was thinking about.
“Do you love him? Mancini?” I blurted out.
Poppy turned, but not before I caught the wave of sadness that consumed her delicate features. “Marriage is a partnership, Penny. Love is a bonus. Come on, let’s see if you can wear something of mine. I found some clothes that were too big in the very back of my closet that never were altered.”
I stalked after her but didn’t continue the conversation until we were in her walk-in closet. There were more clothes hanging on one wall than my two sisters’ and my dressers combined. It should have been a wonderful distraction, the thought of wearing something this luxurious.
But even the prospect of being a femme fatale wasn’t enough to pull my thoughts from the conversation.
“And you think what you and Mancini have is what a partnership should look like?” I grabbed her arm gently and forced her to look at me.
Her gaze shifted to the rows of clothes in her closet. “I’m not sure what will fit. You’re muscley and curvy compared to me.”
“Poppy!” I hissed.
She threw up her hands. “You keep harping on this issue but Penny! It’s out of my control. It’s done. Names are signed, contracts bind me. I’m making the best of it.”
If that were true, then why was there a tremor in her voice?
This isn’t my battle.
Yet as much as I wished I could walk away, forget about the situation and worry about my own mess of problems, that wasn’t an option.
“This was a little big, and I was going to have it taken in, but it should work,” she said with forced brightness, taking down a very fancy dress.
It took every drop of strength, but I gave her a short nod and let the conversation drop. Already we were making progress. She’d finally admitted she wasn’t keen on the situation. Maybe there was enough time to talk her out of marrying the wolfish businessman.
As I unbuttoned my blue jeans and reached for the flowy chiffon maxi dress, a horrid thought settled in my mind. What if she agreed that this marriage was a terrible idea?
She won’t be able to escape.
“You really have no body image issues,” my cousin breathed, awe filling her voice.
I chuckled. If only she knew how comfortable I was in my own, thick skin. Desperation was the mother of invention, and there had been a season where I was desperate enough to stop caring that people looked at my body. They paid well for the privilege, and I exploited the hell out of them.
“I’m so comfortable stripping that I’ve changed at a truck pull when some jackass spilled his beer all over me. Took my top off and everything. It’s just a body. No big deal,” I said just to see her eyes widen.
“I wish I could be that brave,” she murmured.
“You can, and it’s not bravery.” I winked at her before shimmying the dress over my head. “It’s called not giving a fuck.”
She chuckled. “I wish I had that then.”
And that was the answer. Poppy had a voice; she just needed a little help finding it. I wouldn’t stop until she learned to use it, which I silently promised her that she would.
But there wasn’t much time to find it. Her wedding day was coming soon.
If there was a contract—and I wasn’t sure if that was literal or just a verbal agreement—it didn’t matter if only she could gain the strength to decide for herself. Because then, if she wanted Mancini, it would be her choice. And if she didn’t…. The first step was convincing her that marrying the brutish monster wasn’t her only option. This was the Twenty-First Century, she wasn’t trapped! Fuck the mob and its traditions. Once she believed it, we could find another course for her to follow.
Jax rubbed his nose.
Again.
I curled my fingers into a fist. I was seconds away from grabbing his linen napkin, putting it to his nose, and commanding him to blow. Just like a damn toddler.
“That’s the wrong fork,” he murmured, and because of the nasal drip, the words held a slight sneer.
I purposefully stabbed another piece of cooked vegetable with the implement. As I popped it between my teeth, a little voice in the back of my head reminded me that I was supposed to be getting along with this capo for my uncle. It was hard to be sweet and charming to someone I wanted to stab in the eye.
Sighing, I set the fork down. “Which is the right one?”
“The correct fork is the three tine.” He pointed.
No…he touched. Those fingers that had just been rubbing his nose brushed against the spikes of the fork.
Looking away quickly, I tried not to gag.
A shadow moved on the other side of the restaurant.
The jabbering date faded away as my focus narrowed on the advancing pair. Surprise flashed through my veins. Was he stalking me now? What else could he possibly be doing here? The wolfish monster must have felt my stare, because his glance swept in the direction of our table.
My gaze was ensnared by one that was black and endless. Something shifted deep in those dark depths. It was a predatorial look, making the businessman look absolutely animalistic.
I arched a brow, silently demanding the reason for his presence.
Mancini gripped the back of a chair and gave it a tug, not breaking eye contact with me. A wisp in pink slipped into view beside him. Damn, but she was a pretty little thing. My heart clenched tight at the sight. Poppy slid into the seat he held a second later, answering half of the question running through my head.
A date.
She’d never said.
Of course, it was highly possible she hadn’t known.
I gave my cousin a big smile. She returned it with a wave before placing her napkin on her lap.
“Excuse me, beautiful, while I use the little boy’s room,” the voice across the table stammered.
Jax rose and stumbled away. Twitching. He was twitching as if there were ants in his pants.
Sighing, I dropped my elbows to the table and scrubbed my hands through my hair. Not only was the capo impossible to talk to, but now I felt like my efforts were on display. Luckily, Poppy didn’t know this was a setup, and it was unlikely Mancini did. For the sake of appearances, I was safe. But I wanted to do a good job! I had to find it in me to be enchanting with such a companion.
Just pretend you are up on the stage again. I snorted. What would the fancy patrons of the restaurant think if I pulled out an erotic dance routine and used the chair as a prop?
“Miss, the Chateau Cheval Blanc.”
Looking up, a waiter presented me with a jug with a swirly neck filled with red wine and an empty glass.
“I didn’t order that,” I hedged. A sudden rush of dread slithered through me. How in the hell was I going to pay for this meal? If the date fell through, would the capo still pay? The don set it up. Maybe I was supposed to foot the bill?
Shit.
“It’s from the gentleman behind me,” the waiter said implacably. “He ordered it to be served decanted.”
“Oh,” I breathed, reaching for the glass and container.
“Allow me.” The polished server set the cup down, pouring a little more than a splash into it, before presenting it to me.
Uncertainty ringing through me, I picked it up, saluted my cousin’s table, and shot it back. A burst of rich, decadent flavors too broad to narrow down flooded my mouth.
“Dang, that’s good,” I whistled.
The waiter couldn’t hide his wince fast enough.
Yeah, I’m out of my element here, bud. “Thank you,” I breathed, sitting up straight and reaching for the decanter to fill my glass.
“Please, miss.” The waiter gently brushed my hand aside.
Jax fell into his chair, nearly missing the seat.
The waiter had to think we were barn animals. At least I was trying. Jax was…a mess.
His pupils were blown. He had fuzzy snot under his nose. And his whole body vibrated.
“What’s that?” he demanded.
The waiter repeated the vintage.
“Thank you so much for it, and please thank Signor Mancini and his date,” I told the waiter.
Smiling professionally, the waiter disappeared.
“The Blood King is sending you wine,” Jax bristled.
The Blood King? “Poppy sent it,” I lied.
My attempt to diffuse the sudden tension failed.
Spectacularly.
“He’s staring at you,” Jax spat.
With that, he dropped his hand on my leg. The stubby paw was moist.
I wiggled away, but his touch lingered. “They’re my relatives. It’s a nice wine. Do you want to try?”
Jax glared at me. “No, I don’t want to try the fucker’s wine.”
“You have a little something under your nose,” I said, tired of staring at it. “Next time you blow your nose, make sure you wipe it well.”
Jax sniffed hard, then rubbed the protruding part of his face hard on his sleeve. “Crap, that’s a lot to waste.”
I frowned. “What is?”
“Ah,” he grinned, and that was more freaky than the hold he still had on my thigh. “I knew you wanted to party, beautiful.”
Episodes from TV clicked into place. This date was high. The skeletal appearance, the tweaking, it all made sense. If he was drunk, I would have been able to interrogate him. But high? Crap…. What was I going to do? My uncle wanted to know if he was loyal. If there was some big secret to pry from him, I doubted we would be able to get to the truth of the matter with him in this state.
It would probably be best to end this dinner before matters grew worse. Maybe a second date—a morning coffee or brunch—wouldn’t end in drugs? That setting might encourage a real conversation.
Jax slid his hand farther up my leg. Panic lurched through me. It was too familiar, dredging up the nightmarish aspects of my past. But thanks to the bouncers, nothing horrible had ever happened, although there’d been too many close calls for comfort.
There were no bouncers guarding me tonight.
“I’m going to use the bathroom,” I said with forced calm, trying to overcome the spike of sickening anxiety.
As I rose, I slid the steak knife out from the place setting. Jax nearly fell out of his chair as he tried to keep his hold on my leg. I had to shake him off as I stepped back, but I managed to flip the knife and keep it pressed on the inside of my wrist as I moved away from the table.
I caught Poppy’s eye and gave my head a small shake. As I hurried away, I shot her a text explaining that I wasn’t feeling well and was going to grab a cab back home.
Not that I had cash for that either.
There was nothing left to do but take off my cousin’s too-tight shoes and hike it back on foot. While asking her for a ride was possible, I didn’t want to ruin her date. If she stood a chance to find common ground with her fiancé, they needed every opportunity to become better acquainted.
Or for her to be so fed up with him that she was willing to say no to the marriage. And I knew which option I was rooting for!
The spiked heels clipped across the floor of the back hall. At the end was an employee-only exit. I flagged the waiter going into the dish pit.
“I’m going to head out for a smoke, is there an alarm?” I pointed to the door.
He shook his head and disappeared.
Leaning against the frame, I tugged off the first shoe.
Pain exploded across my scalp as I was yanked back. I didn’t even hear Jax following me!
“You little bitch,” the date from hell sneered. “Running away? That’s bad manners!”
My heart stuck in my throat, but I struck out without hesitation.
The knife sank into the flesh of his leg. A satisfying yowl filled the hall. But I didn’t stay long enough to revel in the damage. Defending myself was one thing. Hurting a member of the mob was another. I needed to get to my uncle first, make sure he heard the story from me. I was already risking my uncle’s kindness by failing the mission. Dinner was a bust. Hopefully, he’d understand there wasn’t a chance to learn anything useful about his capo.
I ripped open the door and fled, wearing only one shoe. As I ran, I hopped and pulled at the buckle.
The door banged open. Jax’s roar filled the shadowed alley.
Once the second heel was off, I ran. A quick glance showed a healthy distance between me and the drug-addled pursuer. But then I pulled up short. The alley was blocked by a chain link fence. I shook the gate, noticing the padlock too late.
The panic turned my veins to ice. No, no! This was what I always feared. I’d never been caught by the slimy men, but it felt like it was going to happen now.
Jax sensed the advantage and bounded forward.
Shakey, breaths filled my lungs. At least the fear wasn’t freezing me in place. I turned, ready to intercept his spring. If I could shake him off, there might be enough time to scramble over the gate.
I braced for impact.
But Jax never collided.
Darkness shifted, and a shadow lunged. Jax flew through the air like a sack of vegetables.
Mancini—Mancini was here.
Oh, good grief. This had gone from bad to worse.
My cousin’s fiancé stalked after my date. Mancini reminded me of a bull. That great body shook. His nostrils flared as his lungs worked double time. A rough sound, part grunt, part growl, bellowed from his chest.
I rubbed my scalp, picked myself away from the wall, and stumbled forward. My body trembled, but the instinct to flee gave way to the urge to fight. It would be stupid to step between the men. There was nothing I could do, and I was physically smaller. But even if I had an advantage—a weapon or maddening strength—I doubted I would use it. These were prominent players in the criminal organizations.
“Lay a hand on me, and you declare war,” the capo wheezed.
Mancini took a step forward.
I faltered. My heart shot to my throat and began beating violently. No! No, I can’t let him. Not for me. I forced air into my lungs, the plea for Mancini to retreat formulated on my tongue.
“It would be worth it to end you,” the wolf said, voice cold and completely at odds with the lethal energy vibrating off him.
“I’m a capo! You can’t do this,” Jax whined.
I bounded the last few feet, ready to reach out and tug Mancini away. Not that I was able to move him. But I had to try something!
Mancini smiled down at my date as if he were about to gobble him whole. “Try to stop me.”
“Why?” Jax wailed. “Why would you do this?”
The wolf’s words came out as a pure growl. “Perché, é donna mia.”
My technical brain picked apart the grammar. The thing about native speakers, they didn’t always use the rules when they spoke Italian, which made understanding them take two mental steps. When the meaning behind the sentence clicked, I gasped.
Holy shit on a shingle. This cold, cruel monster just called me his woman.
What in the hell did that mean? Was there some weird familial relationship lost in translation?
No…there was no mistaking the possessiveness of his tone. That transcended language.
Oh, mother of god, what have I done! I had to undo this—now!