Chapter 7
SOPHIA
Scott pours me a third glass of wine and I shake my head.
“I’m on the clock, remember? Need to stay clear-headed.”
He scoffs. “You’ll be partying with mobsters. You should have a head start.”
I grin but I’m nervous, if I’m honest. I stare at myself in the mirror.
“I still don’t know how you’re so good with hair. I look like a different person.”
He smiles. “I’m amazing. Ask Derek.”
I shoot my gaze to his. “Derek? You’re still seeing that guy?”
Scott’s grin widens. “Hell yeah, I’m still seeing him. I might marry him.”
“Derek? Really? Is this just because he has a big—”
Scott bursts out laughing.
“Stop. It’s not because of that. Even though that doesn’t hurt.” He pauses. “Unless I want it to.”
I snort. “I thought he was scared of commitment.”
“He’s more scared of losing me. He says he’s all in,” Scott says proudly.
I lean against him, almost done with my makeup.
“And he treats you well?”
“Like spun gold.”
“Then I’m happy for you, Scott. Really.”
“Really? Even though you’re not getting any since your wild night of passion with your one true love?” he teases, and I pout and smack his shoulder.
“Fuck you. I didn’t say he was my one true love.”
“But that’s how it feels, right? Deep down?” he asks, looking at me curiously.
I take in a deep breath.
“I’m not talking about this.”
Scott groans. “We’ve been talking about it for three years, Soph. He’s the father of your child. Don’t you want to tell him?” He frowns. “Where is my girl Rosa Elena, anyway?”
I smile. Scott always uses her full name when he asks about Rosa. He just loves the way it rolls off the tongue.
“She’s with Agnes, of course. She’s excited to have her first sleepover.”
Scott raises an eyebrow. “You’re letting her spend the night?”
“Of course I am. I don’t know what will happen tonight.”
“As in, you might go home with someone? Maybe Luca? Be a honeypot?”
I glare at him. “I hate you. I’m nobody’s honeypot. I’m not going to this to get laid, I’m going for work. And Luca won’t be there.”
“How do you know?”
“Because it’s his brother’s event,” I huff out. I don’t want to talk about Luca. We spent our whole lunch hour discussing the fact that Luca Rossi is my daughter’s father, how the hell I didn’t know until now, and what complications this could cause in my mission.
“Then why are you dressed like that?”
I groan, stomping around in my stilettos. I’m wearing a gold dress that hugs every curve, backless. It’s even more revealing than the dress I wore when I met Luca.
“Because I’m Angela now. And Angela is a bad bitch who wants to show off her curves. Besides, how else am I supposed to pretend to be a mob groupie?”
Scott tilts his head. “I guess you’re right.”
“Of course I’m right,” I mutter, and wish I could have that third glass of wine. I’m full of nerves and can’t even catch a buzz.
What if they out me? What if they know immediately that I’m a cop somehow? Is it tattooed on my forehead?
“Soph.” Scott cups my face, and I focus on him, coming back to myself. “It’s okay. You’re gonna do fine, and you’ll get so much information.”
I nod. “You’re right. I will.”
“I’m always right.”
I glare at him. “Highly suspect.”
“Wish I could go with you. Sounds more interesting than dinner with Derek’s friends.”
“He introduced you to his friends? He must really like you,” I gush, excited that he’s met someone. Scott deserves to be treated like spun gold.
Scott smiles. “He does. I shouldn’t complain. I got exactly what I wanted.”
“But now?”
He pouts. “I dunno. I think it’s just…you.”
I blink and put my hand on my chest dramatically. “Me? Don’t tell me you’ve suddenly realized you’re bisexual.”
Scott barks out a laugh. “Nothing like that. It’s just this job…it seems so exciting. I miss being a beat cop with you, you chasing perps while I strolled along behind you.”
I lean against him as we stand at the bathroom mirror.
“You could take the detective exam.”
He scoffs. “Me? A detective? Honey, that would require I do more work than I do now. I’m actually good.”
I laugh. “Well, then, dinner with Derek is what you get.”
“Aren’t you not supposed to start your mission until Monday?” Scott asks, narrowing his eyes at me.
I bounce on my heels. “I’m not starting my mission. I’m checking things out.”
“Oh, is that what this is?” Scott asks incredulously. “You’re becoming Angela, not just ‘checking things out.’”
I blow my bangs out of my face. “I need to get a foot in the door. I can’t just show up. I already have my backstory.”
“Which is?”
“My mother was a rich heiress from Italy. She moved here and married my father and had me, and although my family isn’t in the life, I know about it. Dated a few mobsters. I’ll drop some names, guys who are locked up now.”
“You seem like you have this all under control,” Scott drawls. “But you won’t have any backup.”
“Yes I will,” I chirp.
He raises an eyebrow in response.
“You,” I say brightly. “I’ll text you at midnight, tell you my location. Just in case.”
Scott’s shoulders relax. “Okay. That works. But Soph, I’m serious, no funny business. Be careful.”
“I’ll be careful,” I promise.
Scott puts me into a cab a half-hour later, and I do breathing exercises on the way there. It’s an abandoned warehouse, but music booms from every window.
It’s large, and I don’t know where I’m going exactly.
I knock on the back door, and in a moment the door cracks open. I can’t see anyone inside, only a large hand on the door.
“What do you want?” the bouncer barks.
“Um, my name is Angela. Angela Ricardo?” I think on my feet, knowing this is an underground boxing ring opening night. “I’m one of the models, I should be on the list? I know I’m late, but…”
“Angela, huh?” He peers out at me, and a pair of dark eyes rake over my body. It makes me feel used and disgusted, but I just stand there, taking it. “Alright. You can come in.”
He opens the door just barely and I have to slide by him, which he seems to enjoy. He gives me a half-smirk that makes my skin crawl.
“I’m Oscar .”
I blink up at him. Surely he’s not Oscar Cortado. He wouldn’t be manning the door, would he?
But he looks the part. Piercing blue eyes, dark hair slicked back. A devil’s grin. Oscar Cortado is the biggest womanizer among the three families, and he has the looks and charm to get away with it, too.
“Nice to meet you,” I say dumbly, and Oscar laughs.
“You’re new here, aren’t you, Angel?”
He reaches out as if to brush my bangs out of my face, but when I recoil he stops, looking down at me with his head tilted.
“Very new,” he amends.
“I am,” I whisper. “It’s my first night.”
I’m terrified, if I’m honest. There’s no record of Oscar ever assaulting a woman, but…
Oscar nods. “I’ll show you the ropes, then. He tosses a key ring that jingles to another man standing nearby. “Man the door until Nico gets here.”
The other man nods sharply and stands in front of the door.
Oscar heads out of the small room, and I follow, unsure what else to do.
He leads me through the throng of people to the bar.
“You’ll want a drink before work. Trust me. What’s your poison?”
“Chardonnay,” I answer, and he chuckles, handing me the glass when the bartender pours it.
“Fancy,” he muses.
I hum, looking around. Other than the sounds of shouting and fists hitting flesh, it’s fairly…calm.
The music is loud, but everyone’s either dancing or socializing. There’s no fights or a mad rush to the bar or anything. It’s less dangerous than some clubs I’ve been in.
“Heard this is Nico’s big night,” I say, wanting to name drop so that Oscar buys that I’m in the life, or at least close to it.
Nico’s also the reason I was willing to come. If Luca was running the show, I couldn’t risk him seeing me.
Oscar glances at me from the corner of his eye, not turning toward me. I feel less repulsed by him now, but he’s clearly interested, eyeing my legs.
I’ve read his dossier. Oscar Cortado, leader of the Cortado family. He’s barely thirty-five but his father was killed in an “accident” and ever since he’s been running things.
He loves women and money and doesn’t care who knows it. He runs drugs and guns and he’s never so much as been collared. He’s untouchable, just like the rest of the leaders.
“Nico’s coming, but he’s not running the event,” Oscar says idly.
Why not?
But I clap my mouth shut. I don’t want to ask too many questions too soon. Maybe it’d be smart to get close to Oscar.
“Oh,” I say flatly.
“You got a thing for Nico?” Oscar asks, without turning to me, ordering himself a bourbon and sipping it.
I shake my head. “Nah, just heard he’d be here. I’m kind of…a fan, I guess.”
Oscar turns to me now, his blue eyes brighter. “Is that so?”
He’s catching on, now. Thinking I’m one of the groupies he beds every week.
But I won’t go that far. I won’t sleep with someone for information.
But I’ll make him think I will.
I lean in closer, batting my baby blues.
“That’s right. Kind of makes me hot,” I murmur close to his ear.
Oscar hums in the back of his throat, leaning toward my voice.
“I bet I could make you hotter.”
I give him a smile then turn away, coy, but something catches my eye.
It’s the gold of a wristwatch, one that probably costs more than my entire life, and I trail my eyes up his arm to his face. My mouth drops open.
Fuck.
It’s Luca, looking like he stepped off the pages of his dossier in a button-up shirt and tailored slacks. He’s not looking at me, thank god.
I can get away. I just have to get away from Oscar and…
Luca turns, meets my eyes. His green eyes widen and I know he recognized me.
I immediately turn away, back toward Oscar.
“Dance with me,” I say quickly.
He grins. “You’re a pushy one.”
I tilt my head. “Are you saying no?”
Oscar chuckles. “Hell no, I’m not.”
He stands and takes my hand, leading me out to the dance floor.
We get lost in the music, and he doesn’t touch me, just dances behind me, letting our momentum drive us together.
After a few moments when I don’t see Luca, I turn to Oscar.
“Gotta go,” I say quickly and kiss his cheek.
“Hey,” he starts, frowning, but I slide through the crowd toward the bathroom.
I have got to get away from Luca. He’ll out me to everyone.