Page 53 of Wretched Choices

“Fine, you can drive me. But not in your car. It will draw attention to where I’m going. And you need to change. That suit is too flashy. You can lose the tie and jacket.”

With one look at me and my jeans and T-shirt, he walks back into the room without a word and comes back after a few minutes in black jeans and Henleys.

We leave the suite without exchanging a word until we reach the garage, and instead of going for his car, I make my way toward my old 99 Toyota Carolla that I have specifically for my investigations.

“Not a chance in hell,” Salvatore growls from behind me.

I smirk before he can see me. “I’m sorry if this doesn’t fit you, but this is what I’m driving. You can always stay here.”

“First, this car has one foot in the grave. Second, don’t even think about it.”

I turn to him and narrow my eyes. “This car has been my lifesaver for as long as I’ve been here, and I only use it when I need to disguise myself. I have a second car that was left in front of your club last night.”

“Unfortunately. I’m driving.” He stretches out his hand. With a roll of my eyes, I pass him the keys.

“Don’t roll your eyes at me.” His voice slices through to my core, sending chills down my back. Swallowing, I enter the passenger seat and buckle myself in.

The drive to the old and poor neighborhood on the east side of the city is long and silent. A powerful governor used to live in this part of town. I’m going to find out if the rumors are true. Hall Media got a call from a lady saying when the governor was younger, he had a girlfriend who got pregnant, and he left her for some rich girl he met. Long story short, he has a bastard child.

Salvatore breaks the silence first. “This place looks terrible. You sure you’re at the right place?”

“Yes. There is supposed to be a diner here. Bill’s something. We need to go there.”

He glances my way. “You were quiet.”

I raise my eyebrows. “So were you.”

He takes a deep breath, his voice somewhat worried. “I’m doing what I need to do so I can keep you safe and keep Cosa Nostra out of war.”

“Sure.” I don’t ask what I want to, like did I imagine last night or when he left my side? Mostly because I don’t know what to make of our situation.

There is attraction between us, a lot of it. But he also blackmailed me into this marriage, made me choose between him or going back to my father.

Salvatore’s voice pulls me back from my thoughts. “We’re here.”

I look through the window at the old diner with dirty cars parked in front of it. The sign has the letter B missing, so it says Ill’s Diner. From one look at the half-filled diner, I can see the person I’m here to meet. Darcy, a middle-aged blond waitress with too much makeup, probably to cover up the exhaustion on her face.

“You can stay here. I just need to talk to someone. No offense, but if you’re with me, I’m afraid she won’t talk.”

He scans the area before turning to me. “Who are you meeting?”

“The blond waitress. I won’t be long.” I don’t wait for his answer before I exit the car and make my way toward the diner.

The bell rings from above my head, and despite how it looks from the outside, the place is in pretty good shape. Or at least for this neighborhood, anyway. It looks like it hasn’t been decorated since the seventies, though.

I walk toward the front, where the blond is topping up the coffee of a man who sits at the bar. I look at her tag, where Darcy is written. It is her.

“Darcy?”

Her head lifts, her tired eyes meeting mine. “Yes. How can I help you, dear?” A tired smile is on her face as she waits for an answer.

“I have a question about someone you used to know. I was hoping you could help me.”

“Oh? Who are you looking for?”

I motion to an empty booth in the back, away from prying ears and eyes. I don’t want people to talk before I have all the facts.

“Sure, but I can spare only a minute or two. I work alone, as you can see.”

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