Total pages in book: 76
Estimated words: 75107 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 376(@200wpm)___ 300(@250wpm)___ 250(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 75107 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 376(@200wpm)___ 300(@250wpm)___ 250(@300wpm)
She wasn’t wrong.
Outwardly, my breathing had slowed. My heart was at a normal pace. I wasn’t shaking. I wasn’t freaking out.
Inwardly, though, I was anything but calm.
My mind was shooting off in a million directions. But they all met in one central point, trying to answer one pivotal question: How do I keep her safe now?
My knee-jerk instinct was to take her home and make sure we didn’t get seen together again.
But the more I thought about it, the less I felt like that was a possibility.
Sure, there was a chance he’d just been following me. That he had no idea who the hell Stephanie even was.
That said, was I willing to risk her life on that?
The answer was quick.
No.
Abso-fucking-lutely not.
She was in more danger at my side. But there was also no one else who could keep her safe.
She’d be a sitting duck in her apartment if this guy got smart, circled back, and entered the building he’d seen me going into or coming out of. Any idiot criminal knew that you could easily use a loved one to flush out who you were really after.
I mean, no, Steph wasn’t a ‘loved one.’ But this schmuck didn’t know that.
If he’d been watching, he would have seen me glued to her side, hanging onto her every word, moving her around a dance floor, and sneaking away to a private bathroom with her.
“I’m not calm.” I was just really good at hiding my worries. Because if an enemy even saw a hint of that kind of weakness, they would use it ruthlessly against you. “I’m just trying to think.”
What was my move now?
Take her to the boss’s house?
No.
No, that wouldn’t work.
He was out of town, taking the kids to visit a real, live manger.
Fuck.
Fuck.
There were other capos.
We could go there.
Wait for someone to get in touch with Lorenzo. See what the next steps were.
My fingers itched to reach for my phone.
“Thinking about what?”
“About keeping you safe.”
“We’re safe now.”
She had no idea how untrue that was.
“And it’s not your job to keep me safe,” she added.
That was where she was wrong.
I was the reason she was in danger.
So it was damn sure my job to keep her safe from this point on.
“It is.”
“Venezio—”
I would never figure out what she was going to say. Because right then, a group of five riders stood up and broke into a pretty solid rendition of “Santa Claus is Coming to Town.”
By the time the makeshift carolers were finished, the train was pulling into the station.
“Where are we going?” Steph asked, lagging a few steps behind. I thought she was choosing not to follow. But when I turned, I found her flexing her feet in her shoes.
It had to be hell running in those fucking things after a night of already being on her feet. She was probably blistering like crazy.
I glanced at the signs, orienting myself, trying to figure out what to do with her.
My apartment was out.
But if this fuck followed me to her apartment, that was out too.
I could go to Cosimo.
Or maybe Miko.
Even as I thought of them, though, I knew they weren’t options. Cosimo had taken the family to the mountains to decompress before the holiday.
And Miko? Miko was spending time with his giant-ass family.
“Venezio?”
“I’m not sure yet,” I admitted. “But let’s get above ground.”
Steph made a barely audible whimper but moved along with me, each step making her wince.
“God, I haven’t been all the way out here in ages,” Steph said as we made our way to the street, the brittle air biting at every inch of exposed skin as we both looked around, both equally unsure of what came next.
The storefronts were alive with displays and lights.
Each time a door of the coffee shop beside us opened, carols spilled out onto the street.
“Me either,” I agreed, looking out at the whole of Spanish Harlem. “I think I know somewhere we can go to decompress,” I said, stepping out, throwing up an arm, and hailing a cab.
Steph, thankfully, blindly followed, keeping her thoughts to herself, which allowed me a couple of minutes to try to sort through my own.
“What is this?” she asked a few minutes later as we pulled up outside of a warehouse that used to operate as a storage facility for a mid-level arms dealer. Who was now clumsy Ant’s wife.
These days, the building was a legit construction business that the Family funneled an insane amount of money through. And that we relied on for all our personal renovation needs, so no one had to worry about a rival crew or the law planting a bug in someone’s house.
“A friend’s business,” I said, walking up to the front door and pressing a finger into the fingerprint scanner.
Anyone who might need to use the place to drop off cash had a profile in the system.