Page 39 of Dangerous Secrets

“Are you okay?” I whisper, rubbing her back gently.

"Rome, we have to get out of here. They'll see you..." She clings to me and I lift her into my arms. She has no shoes, no jacket. It's a crisp forty-three degrees but with the wind it feels like below freezing. We make it to the car and I tuck her safely away innside before hearing the door slam open. I look up to see a man who looks just like her staring at me.

I dash for the driver's door as he pulls a gun and aims it at me. Bullets fly as I climb in and floor the gas pedal. She's still traumatized by what happened and trembling next to me, not the trained killer they make her out to be. I hear the sound of squealing tires in the distance, and I know that we're not out of danger yet. I glance over at Bianca, and my heart aches at the sight of her trembling form.

"It's alright, Bianca," I whisper, my hand on her thigh. "I won't let anyone hurt you. You're safe with me." I glance in the rearview mirror and see a black SUV gaining on us. I weave in and out of traffic, swerving around parked cars and speeding up when I can. The car behind us is relentless, but I manage to stay ahead of them for now. I take a sharp turn and we both scream as the car almost flips over, but I'm able to correct it by accelerating into the turn.

I hear the sound of gunshots as they try to take us down. We duck lower in our seats and I press my foot harder on the gas pedal, determined to get away from them. Bianca straightens and looks back through the rear window while holding out her hand.

"What?" I snap, uncertain what she's asking. I nearly strike a car as I zoom through an intersection with a red light.

"Your gun!" she shouts, holding her hand out emphatically. Bullets still rain down on us, but I yank my gun out of its holster on my hip and thrust it into her hand.

She grasps it firmly and takes aim at the car behind us. I hear a crackling sound as she fires off two shots, and the back window shatters. More rounds strike the car, and I swerve through another intersection. This time the car behind us isn't so lucky. They crash into a lamppost and I keep driving, not daring to look back. Bianca curls into a ball sobbing and I rest my hand on her shoulder.

I don’t stop driving until we are on the far side of town, doubling back on my route more than once to make sure I’m not being followed. Slowly, she comes out of her shell, drying her tears and sitting straighter. When I do find a place to park, I know what I have to tell her will only make her upset again.

“Bianca, you’re not going to like what I have to say.” I shut the engine off and angle my body to face her. We can’t stay here long. With the ruckus we made across town, someone will surely report my car as being shot up with a busted window. The cops will be out looking for me.

Bianca wipes her eyes and nods at me. I can see she has put her trust in me to keep her safe now, and that must feel terrifying to her. She is quite literally in her enemy’s hands and there is no way of going back now, not after shooting at her brothers and causing them to crash.

“What is it?”

I take a deep breath and blow it out, then purse my lips. It won’t be easy for her to accomplish the task, especially given the climate of the Italian family and their knowledge of her now. Our only chance to do this is now. If we wait, her brothers will inform Mickey that she’s run away and he’ll never trust her again. If that hasn’t happened already.

“Can you get close to Giordano?” I look her dead in the eye as she swallows hard.

“I think so… Why?” Her eyes blink rapidly. She’s concerned and confused.

“Because you have to kill him.” I put a steadying hand on her knee. “It’s the only way Dominic lets you live.”

“Rome, I…” She looks away and her face falls. “I can’t.”

“You have to.” I squeeze her knee. “Because I intend to raise my baby with you, and this is the only way we can do that.”

She shakes her head and stares off into the distance. I knew it wouldn’t be easy for her, but I will make sure she does it. I will be there to confirm it happens, and then I will make sure to fight like hell to ensure she’s safe from my family.

My child’s life depends on it.

24

ROME

What Rome suggests I do—killing the Don of the Italian mob—it’s insane. My mind reels at his pronouncement. Kill Mickey and I’m free? I can be with Rome then, but at what cost? He won’t be able to stop the Italians from coming after me every day the rest of my life. And while a pseudonym or alias may be able to disguise me for a while, they’ll recognize me one day. It won’t even take long, not when they put two and two together and realize I’m pregnant with Rome’s child. They’ll look for me, and they may very well start with him.

“I can’t do this, Rome.” I stare out across the city block stretching out before me. Rome’s car sits across the street and down a few blocks from where I know Mickey does his business. Right now I see several cars, all of them belonging to the muscle that follows him around. They’re having some sort of meeting. “I can’t walk right in there and kill him. Look how many cars there are. If my brothers told Mickey about their little plot to rehabilitate me, he’ll see me coming from a mile away.”

“And if they haven’t said a word, you can walk in and kill him and walk out as easy as buying a candy bar at the Seven-Eleven.” He thrusts a gun out toward me but I push it away. I know that much noise would only draw attention. If Rome’s idea is for them to pin this all on me, he has to do it my way. Guns are loud; that’s why L’ombra uses poison. I have to stick to the shadows.

“Just watch,” I tell him, starting to finally get up the nerve to do this. I have no emotional connection to Mickey, no reason to feel sorry for him or abstain from making the hit. My conscience tells me the same thing it did every time Mickey has ordered a hit. It’s just a job. Someone is paying me a very large price to take someone’s life, and in this case, the price is my life and the life of my unborn child. I just have to kill the most powerful and dangerous target I’ve ever had.

We focus our eyes on the front of the building where a man exits through the door beneath the marquee. The old restaurant still functions but only as a front for Mickey’s money laundering operation. They bring in rolls of wrapping paper from Canada that are really just sheets of counterfeit cash that needs washed and cut. Then they hand it out as change through several of their businesses and even a few laundromats.

The man walks toward one of the cars parked out here and takes off; then another joins him, leaving a few empty spaces out front. Before long only two cars remain—one parked in front of the building and Rome’s more than a block away. Their meeting is over, and at this time of day—and with the pouring rain slicking the streets and sidewalks—the place is dead. There may be a half-dozen wait staff, including management, but in the back room, it’s likely just Mickey and one of his bodyguards. If Soren hadn’t become Mickey’s right-hand man, I’d never know any of this. Lucky for me, my brother is ambitious.

“So how do we do this?” Rome seems antsy, and he well should be. Taking out the Don isn’t going to go over well, though from my perspective it’s seeming more and more likely that I succeed. The waiters and waitresses will let me walk right through the building unfussed. They know me. Soren has brought me to meetings with Mickey here a few times.

“I will go in the front.” I pick up the small darts Rome bought for me only a few hours ago as we plotted out the safest way. He still thinks I should carry a weapon, but that will only raise suspicion before I even get in the room with Mickey. My darts will go undetected. “You will go around back. When I’m past the wait staff, I’ll let you in where the cameras won’t see you.”

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