Caterina
I stare at Tony’s corpse.
He was my friend once. Sort of. He’s still my brother’s friend, and he’s been part of my life for years. My first boyfriend. My first lover.
Now he’s just a body lying in a pool of red liquid. Connor’s blade protrudes from his chest, glinting in the dim light.
The scent of wine and blood curdle together, clogging my throat as Tony’s sightless eyes gaze up at the ceiling. Scarlet coats his blond hair, turning the strands a strange orangey shade.
I bend over, gagging, spitting nothing onto the floor. My stomach roils, threatening more.
“Cat. Let me help you.” Connor snags my arm, blotting at my cut with his shirt.
“It’s just a scrape. I’m fine.” I pull away, my breathing short and shallow. Heat rushes through my face, and my dry tongue thickens with the taste of acid and copper pennies.
Connor knows I’m anything but fine.
He places his palm on my back, his warmth seeping into my body but doing nothing to calm me. “You want to try and slow it down. With me.” He takes a long, deep breath, exhaling it over several seconds. “Like that. Take a deeper breath and hold it if you can.”
I try to obey, sucking in air as patiently as I can. It smells of Tony’s death.
Squeezing my eyes shut, I press closer to Connor to try and inhale his cologne instead.
It sort of works, allowing me to hold the breath in my lungs for as long as I can.
“Now release.” He rubs circles on my spine as I repeat the breathing exercise a few more times.
After what feels like hours but is probably only seconds, my heart rate eases.
Connor’s voice is low and steady in my ear. “Good job. You’re okay, Cat.”
I open my eyes and glance down at the paling body on the floor.
Shit, just…shit. Tony’s dead. Fuck.
I’m responsible for this. I’m the one who forced Connor into sex down here. I all but threw myself at him.
I insisted.
And now, Nino’s best friend, a man I’ve known my entire life, is dead.
Because of the gala upstairs, I don’t even have time to come to terms with this sharp turn of events. Everyone’s waiting for us…
Damn it all.
Connor didn’t attack Tony.
Tony was out of control and wouldn’t let me explain. After that, everything snowballed so quickly.
It’s all my fault. This situation didn’t need to end in death.
Worse, Nino won’t even care that Connor acted in self-defense.
“Cat, I’m sorry about your…friend.” Connor’s tone comes across as robotic. He might be sorry I’m upset, but he doesn’t care about Tony’s death.
When our eyes meet, I don’t know what to say. This is the world we live in, but I never…
I’ve never seen a friend die in front of me like this.
Connor clearly can’t understand that.
His dark, cold gaze glitters in the dim light.
In an excuse to break eye contact, I wipe my arm again. Thankfully, the blood’s already clotted. The cut doesn’t hurt. I probably don’t even need a bandage.
Grimly, I realize Tony sliced the arm I can hide with my flowy scarf.
Silver linings, right?
I need to go upstairs and face a room full of men on the verge of forging an alliance. I can’t come off like a dry leaf in the wind, brittle and ready to crack.
Shake it off, Caterina.
“I imagine Tony was looking for me because the meeting’s starting. Or maybe my father wanted some wine from the cellar.” I grab the necks of two bottles in the wall and pull them off their shelf. I don’t even glance at the labels.
“Cat.” Connor reaches for me.
I shift away. “Take care of this.” My voice is soft but not necessarily gentle as I glide past him. The words are an order, not a suggestion.
Tony has to disappear. His death might not matter in the grand scheme, but if Nino finds out before the signatures dry…
In my periphery, Connor nods. “No problem. You go do your thing.” He’s on his knees, yanking his knife from Tony’s heart and wiping the blade on the dead man’s slacks.
All business.
Just another day at the office.
Before I leave, I pivot to find a soldier-like Connor preparing to dispose of the body.
He committed his first murder at the age of twelve. I can picture it now, even more than in that old warehouse when he was fueled by anger and betrayal. An act by a boy with a broken heart, even if he’d never admit as much.
I hover by the door until he glances up. “I’ll leave my window open tonight at the estate…” I force a smile, “if you still want to see me.”
He captures my gaze long enough for me to understand that he accepted the invitation, then goes back to work.
Upstairs, I bypass the gala and head straight for the back of the building, where I glide past two enforcers and into a beige conference room. My father and brother sit across from Finn Gallagher and a green-eyed King I’ve never spoken with but believe is Finn’s right-hand man, Cian Mahoney.
I don’t smell any gun smoke or see any red stains, so that’s a small relief.
Did we strike an alliance after all?
I set down the bottles and uncork them, grateful that the action disguises my trembling fingers.
The men will finish the paperwork overnight, and Finn and Eduardo will meet tomorrow to sign on the dotted lines. I serve everyone a glass of pre-celebratory wine. Dutiful Caterina Ricci, entering post-negotiation like a good daughter and passing out beverages to the big important men.
Hi, I’m Cat. I’ll be your server this evening. Can I start you off with an appetizer?
Finn smiles at me before he exits. Awfully friendly for a crime boss who looks like he could break me like a pretzel with a sideways glance.
With that scar and those blazing brown eyes, he comes across as one fierce Irishman.
I didn’t get a Connor vibe from him, though.
Nothing flirty. I think he was mostly acknowledging me.
If I didn’t have images of Tony’s bleeding corpse at the forefront of my mind, I might appreciate the gesture.
I hope I smiled back, but I don’t even know.
After that, Nino drives our father home.
The man was wilting, but not nearly as much as he normally would be at this time of night. Elation over the antidote working overshadows my other emotions, however temporarily. His physical body is healing at lightning speed, and his spirits have risen.
We may have lost Tony, but we’re getting Eduardo back.
My father.
One shining light in the shitstorm of the night.
Over the next two hours, the gala dies down, until every last patron returns home to sleep off the alcohol.
Once I lock up, Danny takes me home too. Despite wearing my most walkable Jimmy Choos, my feet ache.
At the estate, I kick off my heels and carry them up the grand staircase leading to my room.
I sigh as soon as my bare foot touches the velvety carpeting, every step a tiny hug for my insoles.
I pause beneath the mermaid, my guardian angel who shimmers with in shades of blue, red, and yellow in the winter night.
She smiles down at me, serene and silent. I wish her goodnight, touch my palm to the glass, and slip into my room, where I find Connor perched just inside my window.
When I flip on the lamp by the bed, the memory of Tony’s death assaults me.
I shake those images away and drop my shoes off by the walk-in closet. Then I approach my invited intruder, checking over his hands, his cuffs, and his suit for any signs of injury. Nothing.
Even so, I can’t look at his face without seeing Tony’s.
He sits still during my inspection, stiff and quiet.
I’ve never seen Connor appear so uncomfortable in his own skin. He almost looks human.
“This isn’t a very comfy spot.”
“I didn’t want to be presumptuous. When it was locked, I thought maybe…” He shrugs.
“Maybe I’d changed my mind?” I cross my arms and raise a brow. “And you let yourself in anyway?”
“It’s fucking cold out there, Cat. I’m not a Husky.” Connor bites his lower lip, drawing my attention to his mouth, his jawline, his scruff. Those beautiful dark eyes. Gleaming white teeth that may as well be fangs, as far as I’m concerned.
He did break in, after all, so maybe he’s part wild animal. My animal, for now.
“Connor…” I thread my fingers between his. “I want you to stay.”
“Yeah?” He peers down at our hands, then up at me through his lashes, and I glimpse that vulnerable boy again. The one who didn’t know his place in the world. The one who never got to figure it out on his own because his father put a gun in his hand and chose for him before he knew any different.
“Just for sleep, though.” I run the fingers of my free hand down his cheek. “I can’t manage more. Sorry.”
He presses his palm over my hand. “Hey. It’s fine, Cat. Sleep sounds great.” Then he pulls me in for a hug.
We cradle each other, breathing slow, our arms tight as if we’re afraid to let go. I know I am.
Maybe this is as good as it’ll ever get…the last moment we’ll ever have where we still feel connected. Maybe this won’t become a romance for the ages. Instead, we could remain a winter fling, a few days—weeks—of fun.
We made major headway tonight, so I shouldn’t feel so grim.
We have a pending alliance with the Gallaghers, the Roguilins are on their way out, and my father’s on the mend.
With each passing day, my attraction to Connor deepens. I sense the same thing happening to him given the way he embraces me, and how his eyes track my every movement.
In the way he killed Tony, then took care of the mess on my order and came here to comfort me after the dust settled.
I gaze out at the dark sky beyond his shoulder. The charcoal-colored clouds are so heavy, as if they might burst and bury the city in soot at any moment.
Or maybe that’s just my vivid imagination running wild once again.
I fall asleep shortly afterward, with my lover and biggest adversary warming my bed.