Page 18 of Mafia Crown

I rise to my feet. “I recorded the killing. I have evidence.”

I’m expecting him to turn and be even a little bit shocked, but he continues to push the chair back against the wall where it was.

“Did you hear me?” I’m walking toward him.

He looks up at me. “I found the footage on your phone and destroyed it.”

I stop mid-step. “What? I might have backed it up.” My heart pounds.

I swear I see laughter in his ice-blue eyes. “Did you back it up?” He folds his arms across his chest.

“No,” I answer honestly.

He shrugs.

“I need you to get this clear in your head.” He drops his arms and takes a step toward me. I lock my knees to stop myself from bolting. He towers over me. “You saw a murder, and now they want you dead. I have the order to kill you, Hazel.”

“Then why am I here?” I’m exhausted, and I need to know.

“You are what is going to get me out of this mess.” He turns to leave.

I can’t stop the cry that claws its way up my throat. “Am I going to die?” I ask.

For the first time, I see a real reaction in him; his shoulders tense, his fingers tighten around the door handle; it’s the first time I’ve seen a sign of humanity.

“Most likely, yes,” the raw honesty of his words shakes me to the core.

No. No, this can’t be my fate.

CHAPTER TEN

KIERAN

TALKING TO HER is easy, and it shouldn’t be. I hate how natural it feels, like sliding into a rhythm I never asked for. Every word that comes out of her mouth should be scrutinized, dissected for motive—but with Hazel, I find myself forgetting to do it. She has a way of lowering my guard, and that’s dangerous. I’ve lived too long in this world to mistake danger for anything else.

Charlie barks at my feet, his tail wagging like he doesn’t have a care in the world. I kneel down to scratch behind his ears. “You’re the only one here who’s honest, aren’t you, boy?” Charlie licks my hand in response, and I grab the bag of food from the counter to fill his bowl. He dives into it without hesitation.

The phone in my pocket buzzes. Patrick. Of course, it’s him. I hit the answer button and bring it to my ear. “Yeah.”

“How is the search going?” Patrick doesn’t bother with pleasantries

“She has help.” She’s always two steps ahead of me. Who is she, really?” I glance down at Charlie who is gobbling up the food.

“She’s no one,” Patrick sounds like he’s walking.

I glance toward the door to the basement. Hazel’s down there, sitting exactly where I left her, looking small but somehow unshaken.

“I will catch her,” Isay.

Patrick snorts, unimpressed. “If you can’t draw her out, I’ll think of a way myself.”

His words don’t sit right with me—a threat, thinly veiled. I don’t like it, but I don’t argue. “I’ll handle it,” I say and end the call before he can push further.

Three days. That’s all we have left at this safehouse before we’re forced to move. The clock’s ticking louder in my head, a constant reminder that my options are shrinking.

I head down to the basement. Hazel’s still on the floor, legs crossed, her back against the wall. She looks up when I enter, eyes wary but calm.

“You have two choices,” I tell her. “Stay down here, or come with me for a drive.”

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