Page 99 of Impenitent Claim

This offer changed my evening plans.

The don flicked his fingers, dismissing me.

Scowling internally, I returned to the wall. I resisted the urge to crack my neck. That would give away that these little Italians were pissing me the hell off. My glance swept over the theater, and I made sure anyone looking would see a good littlebodyguard doing his work, not a trained fighter ready to end his enemies.

***

“Go ahead. Boss is waiting for you,” the guard at the front steps instructed.

Giving him a short nod, I jogged up the steps and pushed the thick slab of carved would open. It might be the middle of the night, but the lights blazed brightly to defy the dark. It had been this way every night this week, which made creeping around the property annoyingly difficult.

It’s all because of me.A dark chuckle rang through my mind. The monster they were so scared of was the one they let walk through the front door.

In case the cameras above the front door were being monitored, I refused to look anywhere but across the foyer. The stairs and hall above called to me, beckoning me to ascend and find the princess in her gilded cage. She hadn’t come to the ballet. It was just the don with the underboss. They’d met with several prominent businessmen before the performance, chatted with various dignitaries during intermission, and spent a full two hours rubbing elbows after the swan took her final bow. Nothing of interest happened. I wasn’t overly familiar with the criminal underworld players here on the East Coast, but few of the polished individuals had the look of crime lord about them. They were too clean, toopretty.

That didn’t mean they were model citizens—oh, hell no. They’d been making back door deals with mobsters, most on purpose with only a few not alluding to Don Aldo’s true colors.

The whole ordeal was tedious. Several more well-placed bullets and my swan could fly free of her curse.

With me.

Those holding her captive would never win.

Thoughts of our future shifted into wonderment as to what she was doing right now. I resisted the urge to look up as I passed the sweeping staircase that branched in two directions. She was the second door if I went right at the top of the stairs.

Did Isabella like ballet? I would take her. Would she want me to travel to Europe or go to the sandy, tropical paradises? Both those places would be heavenly with her. She had pictures of faraway destinations collected and glued in a large book, which led me to gift her the new travel journal. I understood now that she hated it when she thought she was stuck here, when she thought she was shackled to the don’s son. Would she want it back now? I could try. But even if she didn’t want to travel, the coziness about every aspect of her life made me excited for evenings before a fireplace while the snow fell outside, and the wind wailed off Lake Michigan.

So long as it was with her….

Soon. We’ll fly away soon, little siren.

The house was eerily quiet as I walked down the hall. My other senses opened, which was how I sensed the group waiting around the corner. I slowed my steps, loosening my frame.

Did these fools really think they could jump me?

“Come out and face me,” I said quietly.

Three of them would have been easy. Six, armed to the teeth, was a better challenge.

“What is this?” I demanded.

A lighter flicked. “My underboss speaks highly of you.”

Don Aldo puffed on a cigar, stepping out of a darkened room. His gaze roved down my body, the bags under his eyes twitching. I kept my face carefully blank, and it focused on a spot on the floor. He was losing his feeble grip over the kingdom—that didn’t belong to him. Any threat, even a subtle gesture, might raise the alarm in his mind.

“We know nothing about you except….” He puffed on the cigar, savoring the smoke and letting the moment draw out for dramatic effect. “You’re new to town.”

“I am,” I said with a shrug.

“Who do you work for?” the don demanded.

“Mr. Fabrizi sponsored me, but he’s been promising me more money if I want the work.” There was always the possibility that they would capture me and torture me, all because they believed I was their enemy.

And they would be right. Torture couldn’t break me, only prolong their destruction, while increasing the odds that I make their deaths slow and painful, instead of the quick bullets I’d so mercifully placed in the hearts and skulls of their comrades.

“Has Mr. Fabrizi told you who we are?” Don Aldo gestured with his hand to the kitchen.

I began walking, feeling rather than watching the goons follow me. “No, because he’s not stupid.”

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