Chapter 8
LEO
Touching her is a mistake.
Each second my hand is wrapped around her knee feels like being pulled into a deep hole of temptation I won’t be able to get myself out of.
And not to mention the way she’s reacting.
I want her to pull away or fight me off. Instead, she doesn’t flinch. She sits across from me with her head held high and her gaze steady. For a woman that doesn’t hold any cards, she’s acting like she knows something I don’t.
That makes me want to squeeze harder.
That fire inside her does something to me, which means it needs to be put out. And fast.
“Get to the point, DeLuca,” she says behind gritted teeth.
“Leo,” I correct, finally taking my hand off her and placing it on the table. “I’m not your partner. Good actor by the way.”
Her eyes drop to my hand before her expression settles back into disgust. “Don’t talk about my partner. He’s not involved in any of this.”
I let out a soft laugh and decide to make her sweat.
I focus on my smudged coffee cup before rolling my eyes and taking a sip.
And of course it tastes like stale gasoline.
I’m never letting her pick our meeting place again, even though it’s convenient for her.
After following her all day, Michael figured out that she lives nearby.
I wonder how calm she’d be if she knew I knew where she laid her head down at night.
“Keith Richards is very much involved. As far as I’m concerned, he was your accomplice.”
Her mouth opens quickly, but she stamps it down. It looks like I found a soft spot, and I fully intend to press down until it bleeds. “As long as I do what you say, you’ll leave Keith out of this.”
“That felt like a demand, and you’re not in a place to make demands,” I explain.
“You’re not going to touch him,” she warns again. “I’m the one that stole your phone and distracted you. Keith didn’t know what was going on. He just did what I told him.”
I highly doubt that, but I like her loyalty. And apparently it’s a turn on because my pants are starting to get tighter the longer we spar back and forth.
“Are you saying I’m not the only man you manipulated that night? I’m hurt, Cara,” I say, clutching my chest.
She lowers those long dark lashes and throws a targeted scowl my way. “I’ll say this one more time, Leo. Richards is off limits.”
“You’re no fun, Emilia.”
“I’m sorry if I’m not in the mood to sit here while you get off on making me feel small.”
“It’s really more about the control for me,” I wink playfully, “but making sure you know your place is a welcome perk.”
She opens her mouth to respond, but I cut her off. “Here’s how this works. You do what I say, and I keep your secrets. I keep your partner clean. I let you keep your job. And I pretend that little stunt you pulled never happened.”
Mia stares back at me. The gap between her lips opens slightly as she absorbs my terms. I can feel her holding back the insults and arguments gathering on her tongue—almost like it physically pains her to be this compliant.
I love it.
“What do you want me to do?”
“Finally, we can get to the good part,” I say, clapping my hands together. “You’re going to convince Dante Russo to help me with something.”
Her face pales. “Absolutely not.”
“Not on good terms with the family?” I ask, taking another sip of bitter coffee. I can feel the waitress stare at me from across the room like she’s eager to refill my cup. “That’s not going to work for me.”
“I don’t care,” she seethes. “I’m no longer a part of that family and I’d like to keep it that way.”
I tap my fingers against the sticky tabletop before I respond. Little does she know she just gave me the confirmation I needed.
“You know Emilia, a smart person would’ve asked how I know Dante is your brother. I’m a little disappointed you gave it up so easily. Then again, you aren’t that good at playing hard to get. I’m starting to get bored.”
I remain perfectly still as her hands slap against the table in anger. I catch the waitress jump from the corner of my eye, but she doesn’t interrupt.
“You did a good job of erasing your past on paper. If you stayed in Boston, you could’ve lived a happy and normal life. How long did you think you could get by without being discovered?”
Her eyes turn into thin slits and her lips wrinkle into a scowl. “Maybe you should’ve made the blonde hair permanent. Although I prefer your hair this color, Cara.”
When her right hand goes for her gun, I feel the softest hint of victory.
A black mop of hair a few booths behind us stirs, but I shake my head, giving Michael the signal to stand down.
I let out a crippled sigh and slide out of my seat.
Her grip tightens on the firearm when I slide into her side and back her against the wall.
I gently place my hand against her thigh and lean into her ear. “I wouldn’t do that if I were you.”
She attempts to pull away, but I’ve got her boxed in. I sweep her long brunette hair back from her neck and take in the dark scents of amber and vanilla. I wish I could bottle it up.
“Stop,” she breathes. “I’ll cooperate. Just—just stop touching me.”
I smile and lean back, granting her wish. But I don’t move from my new favorite spot. “Good. Now let’s talk about—”
“What happened to Vince?” she cuts in. “You promised.”
She stares at me expectantly, and when I don’t reply, she presses. “You said if I met with you then you’d tell what happened the night Vince died. So, start talking.”
I relax but stay close. “Did I? That doesn’t sound like me.”
“You did,” Mia snaps, her nostrils flaring.
“I said,” I correct, voice calm but firm, “that you’d get answers if you worked with me, not against me.”
I let my thumb trace a slow line along the seam of her jeans. I press down with enough pressure to remind her that I can lose control at any second.
“Answers are earned,” I explain, “and I’m afraid you haven’t earned them yet.”
Her eyes connect with mine, sharp and filled with razor-sharp rage. “You’re really going to dangle my brother’s death in front of me? I don’t have time to follow breadcrumbs. Vince’s killer is out there and—”
“I thought I was your main suspect, Emilia?” I ask, warmth radiating deep inside my chest.
“You still are,” she bites, “but I’m willing to bet a man like you is too chicken shit to get his hands dirty.”
Her nose wrinkles in disgust, and I’m not going to lie, her comment stings. However, she’s not wrong, but I don’t think it makes me weak.
It makes me smart.
“I’m going to be very clear so make sure you’re listening, Emilia. I did not kill or have Vince Russo killed. The deal we made involved him being very much alive, and whoever shot him really screwed with my plans.”
Her breath stutters, a new wave of grief flattening her face.
She parts her lips to speak, but I cut her off.
“Vince agreed to help me in exchange for something he wanted, and we struck a deal. But the deal we made was never finished. I’ll tell you everything I know about what happened leading up to his death if you help finish what he started.
Until then, you’re going to be a good little lap dog and do what I say. ”
She’s lucky I’m being so nice. I don’t have to give her anything, and yet here I am being an upstanding citizen. But I never do anything without a motive, and part of me wants the head of whoever messed with my plans.
Mia is silent, but I can sense the war going on inside her head. I’m searching for words of my own until she surprisingly drops the subject and switches tactics.
“How did you find out?” she asks, cutting me off.
I contemplate pushing her buttons more because it feels like the beginning of a new hobby. But I need to wrap up this meeting before I bend her over the table and finish what she started last night.
“About your long-lost family? After some very strategic digging, a colleague of mine found a record of your name change. But don’t worry, you did a good job covering your old identity up, and I’ll make sure it stays that way if you stay in line.”
She closes her eyes, and my gaze dips to the way her chest rises and falls with each harsh breath. And then her tongue darts out, swiping across her bottom lip. My fingers itch to reach out and touch her mouth, but I restrain myself.
“Fine, but—” her bright amber eyes pop open with a refreshed hatred steaming in them, “—I need your word that he won’t get hurt. If Dante ends up like Vince, I’ll burn your entire world to the ground. And I won’t care if I come out the other side or not.”
“You’re so cute when you threaten me. If we keep doing this, I’m going to mistake it for foreplay.”
“I’m serious.”
“I know,” I reply. “It wouldn’t be fun if you weren’t serious.”
She rolls her eyes, trying to slide away from me, but she’s already pressed against the wall. Her hands tremble on her thighs, but her chin stays pointed high. She drips with defiance, and it’s glorious.
“What do you want with my brother?”
“I don’t want to give too much away,” I say, placing my hand in the space between us. She stares at it like she wants it to catch on fire. “I just need you to get him to agree to help me. You’re simply the appetizer, and he’s the main course.”
“How poetic,” she spits out. “Dante warned me to stay away from you, so how are you so sure I’ll be able to convince him to help you?”
I let out a weak laugh. “Sounds like you’re on better terms with brother dearest than you originally let me believe.”
“I talked to him right after Vince’s death. He was a suspect, so I had to,” she says, biting her lip. “But we’re not on good terms. It won’t be easy.”
“Once he finds out his baby sister got the wrong kind of attention, he’ll cooperate,” I explain confidently.
Her jaw tightens. “You’re using me as bait.”
I shrug. “It’s worked pretty well for me so far.”
“You’re the devil,” she mutters.
“Oh, I’m actually being very nice right now, Cara,” I say, leaning in close enough for my voice to brush across her ear. “Besides, you’re not ready to meet the devil. We’d have far too much fun together.”