Page 10 of Veil of Vengeance

Her eyes finally drift to where I am sitting, and she speaks up.

“Where are you taking me?” Her voice comes out a bit croaky, so she clears her throat.

“That’s not for you to know. Now sit back because we’ve got half an hour till we reach the first destination. Don’t try to pull anything off. I can break you in half with one move.” The threat is a lie, of course.I would never hurt her.I shake off that thought. She’s still the enemy.

To my surprise, she obeys and sits back while maintaining eye contact with me through the rear-view mirror. Her honey-colored eyes are now a deep chocolate brown. Dark and delectable. Swallowing, I move my eyes back to the road ahead of me.

“I thought we weren’t at war with you.” She breaks the silence. I look back at her through the rear-view mirror and give her a crumb of information.

“Your cugino had killed some of our most loyal men.” A look of calculation passes over her face before she seems to have figured out whatever puzzle she was trying to solve.

“You know.” It wasn’t a question, but I thought the Outfit didn’t involve their women in mafia business.

She shakes her head and says, “No. We’re not allowed to know, or even mention, the Outfit’s business. So, I’m of no use to you.”

“We’re looking for an exchange for something, not information. We have all the information we need.” I don’t know why I told her that, but I don't look back at her the rest of the ride to the Camorra’s private takeoff and landing strip. After another ten minutes of driving in silence, we finally reach Columbus Airport, and I park my car and turn my body to look her in the eyes.

“I am going to get out and open your door. No one here will help you. This is my city, my rules and my people. So, behave, and I won’t have to harm you.”

She rolls her eyes at me. “This is the third time you’ve threatened me. Don't you think it’s going to lose its effect?”

I run my hand through my hair and tug a bit to get some sense of calmness.

“Who are you?” she asks, and my eyes move back to her.

“Who do you think I am?” I ask her, curious.

She shrugs. “A soldier of the Camorra, I suppose.”

A mocking laugh leaves my lips, and I turn to get out, but she grasps my upper bicep. When I look at her sharply, she pulls her hand back as if I had burned her. That’s what the simple touch felt like for me, at least.

“Why did you laugh at that? Who are you?” she asks again, and I open my door, but before stepping out, I say the one thing nobody wants to hear.

“Your worst nightmare.”

* * *

Romiro arrives an hour after us,looking disheveled with his blond curls all over the place, his bottom lip busted. He nods at me and heads straight to the mini bar near the two flight attendants who look frightened and scurry to the back. I hide a smirk with my palm, but Romiro spots it and flips me the bird. He drags his feet across the hardwood floors of the jet.

Valentina comes out of the bathroom and stops in her tracks, as if she’s taken aback when she spots Romiro. Romiro ignores her as he grabs his glass of bourbon and makes his way to the seat next to me.

“What are we going to do with her when we get home?” He jerks his chin toward Valentina after taking a sip. He doesn’t make an effort to lower his voice, and she flips him off and drops onto one of the seats on the other side of the jet.

I shrug my shoulders and say low enough just for him to hear, “Get Matteo on the phone. I want him to set up the dark net link up and send it to Alvize Moretti’s phone when I tell him.”

Romiro groans. “Matteo’s a brat. All he does is fuck about. He doesn’t listen to anyone but you. Why don’t you call him?”

“Because I fucking have shit to get done. Call him while I deal with her.” I get out of my seat and head toward Valentina, who’s trying to convince the flight attendant to help her. Yeah, she has better luck convincing the devil to repent.

“Leave,” I order the flight attendant, who scurries away. Valentina glares at her back, then directs the glare to me before she faces forward. I sit in the seat next to her and lean over the armrests. She refuses to look at me, but I continue to look at the side of her face, taking in the slope of her button nose and the small jut of her chin.

Her lashes caress her cheeks every time she blinks. She finally breaks the silence. “Go away.”

“No can do.” Her eyes narrow slightly, but she still doesn’t turn to look at me.

“You know, as much as I love this little game of yours, I don’t have time to entertain a little spoiled Moretti brat,” I grit out. Romiro snorts, but quickly covers it with his palm when I throw a glare his way.

Valentina’s head whips around to face me, and she seethes. “You pompous ass, you-”

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