Chapter 10
MIA
“Hey, Keith. Sorry I missed your call. What’s up?” I ask, balancing my phone between my ear and shoulder while I jimmy my door open. The damn lock is still sticking and the super refuses to do anything about it.
“It’s fine,” he says, the sound of a runaway keyboard filling the background. “I decided to take a look at those files again and I might be crazy, but I think I found something.”
“Really?” I ask, suppressing the urge to pump my fist in the air.
“Yes,” he replies, and the typing sound stops. “I think we should discuss it in person, though. The bug we found in DeLuca’s phone has me freaked out. I want to be careful.”
I walk past the light switch and walk directly into the kitchen. It’s late, and the overhead lighting in my apartment gives me a headache. I drop my takeout on the kitchen counter and lean against the fridge.
“That makes sense. Want to meet at the gym first thing tomorrow morning? I could use a sparring session.”
“That works,” Keith says before he pauses. Call it partner intuition, but I can feel him hesitating even through the phone.
“Everything okay, Richards?”
“I don’t know what’s going on with you lately, but you’ve been avoiding me.”
I freeze, hating the trepidation I hear so clearly in his voice. “No, I haven’t,” I say defensively, cringing as soon as the words come out of my mouth.
He sighs, letting the line go dead for a few seconds. “You know you can talk to me, right? About anything. I promise I won’t be upset.”
“I know,” I whisper. Lying to him hurts, but I refuse to put him in harm’s way.
Keith clicks his tongue, clearly fighting back what he really wants to say, before settling on, “Just get some rest, okay? I’ll talk to you tomorrow. Goodnight.”
“Night. Sleep tight,” I say smugly, remembering how he hates me saying that. But it doesn’t make me feel any better.
As soon as he hangs up, I toss my phone onto the counter.
I turn around to reach for the kitchen light when I catch a shadow out of the corner of my eye. It might be nothing, but I relax my shoulders anyway and calmly back away from the light switch before opening the fridge while simultaneously reaching for the gun still holstered safely under my jacket.
The fridge light kicks on, casting the small area in a dull white glow.
Before I can identify the intruder, I snap into action and point my gun toward the shadow.
“That’s no way to greet a guest.” Leo smirks, casually leaning against the entrance to my kitchen.
He doesn’t flinch at the firearm being pointed at his face. In fact, he looks eerily relaxed with his jacket nowhere to be seen and his sleeves lazily pulled up over his elbows. He’s not wearing a tie, and his hair is slightly mussed like he made himself comfortable a while ago.
“How the hell did you get in?” I ask, not lowering my gun. Instead, I click the safety off and let my finger graze the trigger.
Leo’s gaze lowers to my gun and then right back to my face. He’s completely calm and maybe even…amused.
That damn smirk on his face mocks me. It makes me want to shoot him just to prove a point. Of course I’d aim for somewhere safe like his leg. It won’t be deadly, but still enough to make him bleed and probably limp for a few days.
“You better lower that gun, Cara,” he says, his eyes twisting with a wicked thrill. “I’m getting a little too turned on and I can’t promise I’ll be as restrained as I normally am.”
I let out an ironic laugh that doesn’t contain an ounce of humor. “You trespassed into my apartment. Unlike you, threats are not my idea of foreplay.”
His smile widens more if that’s even humanly possible. “You’ve never been with a real man then.”
My breath hitches, but I grip the gun and widen my stance. “I’m going to ask one last time. How did you get in here?”
He smiles, taking a few steps forward and letting his fingers dust over the countertop. The closer he gets, the more the temperature rises, making my hands feel clammy.
Leo comes to a halt, almost kissing the barrel pointed at his face. He stares down the metal edge, not fazed by being close to death.
“Relax,” he says, lifting his hands slowly and playing up his pretend surrender, “and put that thing away. If I wanted you dead, you wouldn’t have made it past your front door.
And if I wanted you distracted—” he says, his green eyes trailing up and down my body in a painfully slow way. “—we wouldn’t be talking right now.”
“Answer the fucking question,” I snap.
Leo sighs, disappointed that I’m not playing his sad little flirting game. “You really know how to kill the mood, Emilia. Call me old-fashioned, but I think drop-in visits are romantic.”
“Blackmail isn’t romantic.”
“Mm. You say that,” he replies, his eyes dipping to my lips, “but I bet if I touched your neck right now, I’d feel how fast your heart is pumping.”
I grit my teeth and press the barrel of the gun into his cheek. A sadistic flare takes over his face, and I’m starting to think I’m playing into whatever delusion this man has going on in that thick skull of his.
“Last warning.”
“Fine,” he straightens, placing a hand over the gun and lowering it to my side. I don’t fight him, but I also don’t turn on the safety. “Your super takes brides. Cheap ones, too. You really need to move. This place isn’t safe.”
“Fucking Tim,” I murmur. Maybe I should be pointing this gun at him. I shake my head at the dark thoughts slipping through and click on the safety of my piece before reholstering it. “Get out.”
“That’s not how this works,” he explains, shaking his head. Without the firearm between us, he’s too close. His smoky oak scent bombards my brain, filling up every corner like the annoying human he is. “Your time is up.”
“I texted you,” I say, narrowing my eyes. The second I left Dante’s place, I fired off a text to Leo. I took deadlines seriously—especially when they involved people I cared about. “Dante agreed to meet this weekend at his bar.”
“My phone must’ve died.” He grins.
Lies. A man like him didn’t let his phone die.
“Whatever,” I bite. “I did what you asked, so it’s time to find someone else to terrorize.”
Leo chuckles, and dammit if it isn’t the smoothest thing I’ve ever heard.
“Emilia, you’d have to be scared for me to terrorize you, and I know you’re not scared of me,” he says, taking one finger and gliding it up and down my arm. I shiver, giving him the exact reaction he wants. “No, you’re not scared of me. You hate me. There’s a big difference.”
I step around him, deliberately putting as much space between us as possible. I occupy my hands by reaching for an old water bottle on the counter, but I don’t open it—I just twist the cap back and forth. “I fulfilled my end of the bargain, so we’re done. End of story.”
Leo leans back against the counter and folds his arms. I force myself to ignore the way his shirt stretches tight across his chest. “It’s not that easy. I’m not done with you yet.”
Heat kisses my cheeks, and it takes everything inside me to keep my hands from shaking. Maybe I’m going about this the wrong way. The harder I push, the more he pushes back.
A thought flickers inside my brain as I place my water on the counter. It’s dangerous, but fighting him isn’t working.
So instead of backing away, I step closer. I stop just shy of touching him, taking his own tactics and throwing them right back in his face.
His right brow lifts slightly, questioning my change in strategy.
“And what exactly do you want from me, Leo?” I ask, feeling my own devious smile take shape. “I already did what you asked. So, if you’re still here, it’s not business. It’s something else.”
His shoulders stiffen. “You think you have me figured out? That’s cute.”
“Here’s the problem, DeLuca,” I begin, cherishing the way his vein throbs on the side of his forehead. “Vince did exactly what you wanted, and he still ended up dead.”
I pause, letting my fingers brush against the delicate fabric of his white dress shirt. The urge to see it stained with red rises, but I choke it down. “So, tell me. What deal did you have with my brother and how are you going to make sure this next one doesn’t end the same way?”
Leo’s hand comes up fast, catching my wrist before I let my fingers wander more. It’s hard and firm—jolting a sensation of warmth down south. And then he presses his finger right against my pulse point and lets out a restrained breath.
“Your little seduction act fooled me once, but I’m afraid you’ve already played that card. I thought you were smarter than this.”
“What if it’s not an act?” I ask, fluttering my lashes and looking up at him. I find him staring back, and it’s dark enough to send anyone else packing. But not me. Leo DeLuca screwed with the wrong family, and he’s going to feel the pain of that mistake for the rest of his life.
“Then kiss me,” he orders, meeting my challenge with one of his own. It takes everything in me to stand perfectly still and not back down.
“Tell me what happened to my brother and I’m all yours, Leo. I promise not to steal anything this time.”
He stares so intensely at my lips and for a second, I think I might have him. He even dips his face close enough that I can feel the warmth of his breath against my mouth. But then he releases my hand and it drops at my side.
Something unfamiliar flashes across his face. It isn’t anger or the amusement he wears so well. This is something softer. The mask snaps back into place before I can look any closer.
“Do you think you’ve earned your answers yet?”
I grind my teeth together as I feel the anger begin to tighten into a thick knot. What was with this man and riddles? Did he think he was a fucking Batman villain or something?
“Men are so complicated,” I groan, taking a step back. He watches me closely as I retreat, and unless I’m delusional, he looks disappointed. “If you’re not going to stick to your end of the deal, then why even make it?”
“Because I like you,” Leo grins, the soft light of streetlights glaring against his bright white smile, “but you’re right.”
“I am?” I ask, my eyes widening. I didn’t think those words were in his vocabulary.
“Partially,” he says, running a hand through his messy hair. I wonder how many times he did that waiting for me. “I still need you on a tight leash, but if you do manage to find Vince’s killer, that wouldn’t be a terrible thing.”
I still, pushing down the instinct to press harder and demand details.
Keith and I make a good team because he is the calm partner who you feel comfortable confiding in.
I am the aggressive one who demands answers and uses whatever it takes to get them.
But Leo makes me feel like a clown with a heavy badge weighing me down. I can’t figure him out.
“What can you tell me?” I ask, deciding to take a page out of Keith’s book.
“Don’t go soft on me now, Cara,” he says, lowering his voice.
I curl my hands into tight fists. “How has no one shot you by now?”
His smile lingers, fueling the tingling sensation skating across my skin.
“Maybe they have and I’m just really hard to hit.” He winks, his gaze catching on my gun peeking out of my jacket.
I roll my eyes and let out a puff of hot air. “Sounds like a challenge to me.”
He grins, excitement flashing across his face. “You want something useful? How about the location where Vince was killed?”
Leo raises his brow, waiting for me to react. But I keep calm, even though if he can tell me where Vince was killed, that would be a huge step for us. Even if the blood is long gone, there might still be evidence. Evidence I need desperately.
“You already know the body was moved,” he observes.
I lift my chin, fighting a cocky grin. “The medical examiner flagged it, but it was obvious,” I reply evenly.
“Good. That means we can skip the part where I insult your intelligence.”
I squeeze my eyes into two thin slits. “Very funny. Now get to the point.”
Before I can blink, Leo pushes off the counter and crosses the kitchen, boxing me into a small corner. He isn’t close enough to touch me, but his presence is overpowering enough. “Your brother was shot in the back alley of the Velvet Room.”
“The strip club?”
“Not just any strip club,” Leo says, letting his hand delicately sweep over my side. A chill runs down my spine. “That’s where Enzo Caruso does most of his business. Vince was meeting with him the night he got killed.”
I swallow hard when his hand lands right above my gun. Everything in the room blurs and I can feel my pulse thumping inside my ears. “I thought Vince was with you before he died.”
“He was,” Leo admits, leaning closer until his lips brush against my ear. A slow vibration settles low in my gut as the warmth of his breath caresses my neck. “But we didn’t leave together, so how did he end up with my valet ticket?”
“Y—you’re saying that someone framed you?” I ask, struggling to focus. I forcefully press my hands against the wall, making sure my body doesn’t betray me. I even try to turn my chin away from him, but then he reaches up and grabs it.
“Finally, Emilia,” he says, his lips now feathering over the shell of my ear. “You’re asking the right questions.”
His hot breath ghosts over my ear one more time before dropping his hand and stepping away. A satisfied look falls over his face as his eyes trail up and down my body. I fight back the nerves uncoiling inside me and step into his space instead.
“How the hell am I supposed to investigate an alley behind an active mafia outfit?”
“I don’t know and I don’t care,” he sighs, reaching behind me and grabbing the water bottle I left on the counter. The sick bastard undoes the cap and takes a long drink. One drop of water misses his mouth and drips down his chin, making my hands itch at my sides.
“Of course not,” I scowl. “Now if you’re done ruining my evening, I’d really like to go to bed.”
“Thanks for the invitation, but I don’t think we’re there yet,” he says, turning around to head toward the door. “I’ll see you at the meeting with your brother.”
“Why the hell would I go to that? Dante isn’t going to want me anywhere near it.”
“Having you there will remind your brother that I’m not asking for his help anymore—I’m demanding it.”
I bite the inside of my cheek, fighting the words that will no doubt reel him in for more delightful banter. I need to play along even if it makes me want to scream.
“Fine.”
He doesn’t reply. He simply flashes a smile of victory before turning his back to me. I follow him to the door so I can make sure to lock it, even though I know it won’t stop him from coming back in if he wants to.
Before he places his hand on the doorknob, he stops and turns toward me.
“One last thing. When we kiss again, I’m not going to let you run away. Think long and hard about that before you offer yourself up to a man like me. I’ll ruin you, build you back up, and have so much fun tearing it all down again.”
And there’s no doubt in my mind that this promise will stick.