Chapter 43 – Rae
Ihad never owned anything that shimmered the way that dress did. Hell, I was certain that I wasn’t a dress-up kind of girl. Skirts weren’t made for running. Working under a car would tear a gown, not to mention the grease and muck.
But this dress was made for me.
A lotus flower danged from my belly button, on full display.
Another dangled from my right ear. They complimented the motif inked on my left shoulder.
I felt feminine. The light from the lamp by the long mirror caught the material and made the reflection dance.
I smoothed my hands down the skirt again, though there was not a wrinkle to be found.
The fabric was soft and expensive beneath my palms.
Tonight, I looked like someone else.
Laughter caught in my throat. I looked like the new me.
I leaned closer to the mirror, tilting my chin this way and that.
The woman staring back at me belonged in a ballroom.
My hair was pinned up higher than I had ever worn it, curled carefully with more patience than I usually possessed.
A few loose tendrils framed my face, softening it.
I touched one, half expecting it to spring out of place, but it held.
“You’re going to ruin it if you keep fussing,” I murmured to my reflection, but I didn’t step away.
If I was this mesmerized, Nico was going to be locked in like a hound on the scent.
A shiver of anticipation shot straight to my core.
I let out a slow breath. Excitement fluttered in my chest, light and quick.
He said that once he was the don, there would be no more hiding.
While I was over the sneaking around and hated the risk of being caught, I was going to miss this.
Wearing the masks, chasing one another through the dark, stolen kisses and more—it was fun.
But standing here, dressed and ready, I couldn’t pretend anymore. This was happening. I was going to be with the boss of a mob.
Maybe the fun doesn’t have to stop.
A wicked smile tipped my lips. There was no reason we couldn’t chase one another through the dark passageways of a house. And there were sure to be plenty of chances to steal kisses.
I turned once in a slow circle, watching the skirt move with me. It swayed and settled like something out of a story. Girls in those stories stepped into carriages and found their lives changed before midnight. I took one last look in the mirror. My midnight was coming, even if it wasn’t tonight.
“You done wandered a fair piece from home, haven’t you?” I breathed.
My reflection grinned.
The first sound was small enough that I almost ignored it. A soft creak, low and slow, whispered as wood shifted under a weight.
I went still. The servant cottage had its noises. Just like the big house. The wind pressed at the walls. The floorboards complained. The old steps had a voice of their own. I knew every one of those sounds. This was not one of them.
Another creak followed, a little louder this time. It was unmistakable. Someone was on the stairs.
My heart gave a sharp, hard thud. No one should have been here. Uncle Theo and Franky were both at the big house. I would have heard them open the door, stomping into the downstairs like a herd of wild boars.
Maybe it was Nico.
I wanted to feel the surprised rush of relief. But a warning in my head said this wasn’t one of our games. He would be at the ball with his family and associates.
“Luigi?” I called, trying to keep my voice steady.
No answer.
The silence that followed felt wrong. It stretched too tight, too expectant.
I took a careful step, my gaze fixed on the doorway that led to the narrow hall. The lamplight did not reach far enough to touch the base of the stairs. Shadows gathered there, thick and unmoving.
Then something shifted inside them.
A man crept forward.
The balaclava hid his face. He was the wrong size and shape to be my mafia prince. He didn’t prowl like my monster. And the dead look in his eye made me sick.
I had only a second to register those details before he lunged.
I stumbled back with a shout, the force of his movement knocking into me as I tried to twist away. His hand caught my arm, fingers digging in hard enough to bruise. I reacted without thinking, shoving at his chest.
I was plum fed up with these underworld thugs thinking I was someone they could attack! This time, I was going to kill the sonofabitch. Tear his heart from his chest before cleaning the blood off the floor. Or maybe…maybe it was my ex sending someone after me again.
My pulse roared in my ears. “Get off me!”
He didn’t speak. He only tightened his grip and dragged me toward him.
Panic surged, hot and blinding. I thrashed, twisting, my heel slipping on the floor. My hand struck the table, searching, grasping for anything. My fingers closed around something solid. Heat radiated near my fingertips.
The curling iron.
I swung it without hesitation.
It connected with the side of his face with a sickening sound. He jerked back with a sharp, guttural noise, his grip loosening just enough for me to wrench free. The thick stench hit me a second later. Burnt flesh.
Before he could come at me again, I scrambled after him. My skirt caught around my shoe, and I stumbled.
“Curse these fucking dresses!” I roared.
This. This was why I preferred jeans and a tee! A growl of rage filled me, and I ripped the swishy material free. I wacked the goon again, letting the rod linger on his throat.
Something dangled beside my arm.
I was too busy keeping his swatting arms away to notice at first. But the moment my incensed brain recognized the cord, I grabbed it in one hand and climbed on top of the goon.
He rolled me over.
The air left my lungs in a whoosh.
But not before I laced the slip wire around his neck. I pulled for everything I was worth. The neat little knot tightened. I yelled in fury. The goon jabbed blindly at me. As his weight shifted, I scooted from his hold and continued to tug the band tight.
For good measure, I shoved the hot tip of the rod right in his stupid eye.
The smell of burnt flesh melded with a choked yell of pain. It was an enchantingly garish symphony.
“Magnolia!” Theo boomed.
Franky barreled into the room behind him a second later.
“This—low-down—no-good—mother—fucking—snake ATTACKED ME!” I screamed, smacking him across the face with the hot wand. There wasn’t enough slack from the chord to really hit him hard.
“Magnolia, enough!” Arms wrapped around me. Theo hoisted me into the air. “We’ll handle it, cara mia.”
His fierce calm broke through the panic. I sagged into his sturdy hold.
Franky was quick. He jumped between us, leveled a gun which he’d probably pulled from thin air, and pointed it at the strangled thug.
“Look away,” Theo urged.
I refused.
Two quick pops were followed by a finite third.
The double holes in the attacker’s heart wept on the floor, while bits of skull and brain matter leaked from the single hole in the thug’s head. It was ghastly beautiful, a macabre justice.
“She’s not even shaking,” Franky quipped.
“No, she’s not,” I snapped. “I’m pissed.”
“Who was he?” Theo asked, not loosening his grip on me. It was as if I would disappear or be pulled back into danger.
For those reasons, I let him. He was a newfound shelter in the shitstorm of life.
With a sigh, I relayed the details of my ex-boyfriend and the drug lord who was sending thugs to collect.
“It has to be him,” I finished. “I don’t have any enemies in the mob up here.”
“Not yet,” Theo sighed and finally released me. He swiped a hand over his face suddenly looking old.
“Dominico won’t let anyone hurt her,” Franky hummed. “I’ve been thinking about using my vacation time. Say, Theo? Think Cathy would fancy a trip down south?”
My uncle gave his friend a withering look. “You’d take your girl on your first real trip to kill a drug lord?”
“Nah….” Franky tucked his gun back in the white drapes of his chef’s coat. “I think the ex-boyfriend has some explaining to do. His confession should put a stop to this.”
“You’d do that?” I breathed.
“For you? Of course.” Franky beamed. “You’re family, Magnolia Rae. That’s what family does.”
A rush of emotions broke me. I fidgeted with my dress to grapple with the swell, absently noting that it had been saved from the splash zone. Which was a small mercy, because I didn’t want to go to the ball covered in blood.
“Thank you both,” I whispered when I could finally trust myself to speak without sobbing.
My uncle gave me a soft smile, while Franky clapped my shoulder.
“Luigi will be here any minute,” the cook tutted. “Better fix your hair, ragazza.”
“I’m just glad we came to see you off, nipote,” Theo added as he bent to unwrap my curling iron. “Don’t worry about this mess. You won’t even know it happened by the time you get back.”
“Oh! You don’t have to clean it!” I rushed to say. “I’ll change fast and help you—”
“You’ll do no such thing,” Franky chuffed.
“But—”
“No buts.” Theo held up a palm and then went into the bathroom across, when he brought back some towels and a bucket of cleaning supplies he added, “Where do you think I started?”
I gaped at him.
“We were Nico’s father’s cleanup crew.” With that, the Grimaldi butler and cook got to work on the body, while I was left to finish getting ready for the ball.