Page 57 of Mob Princess

17

Israel

“Where are you going?”

Bonnie’s voice fluttered from the stairs as I slid my arms into my coat.

“Out,” I said, rage fueling my every move.

“Let me grab my purse and I’ll—”

“Alone.”

Silence filled the room. “I thought the deal was to go wherever one another went. Especially after what happened yesterday.”

I fluffed the collar of my coat. “That’s why I need to go alone. I know they’re waiting for you to leave this penthouse before those snipers appear again. They know we know they’re watching. The best thing we can do is conduct business as usual.”

“Which is, apparently, not keeping our word.”

I turned to face her. “You started that trend when you decided to go against your uncle’s wishes and not kill me. This entire relationship is built on us not keeping our words. Why would this shock you now?”

The hard truth of his words widened my eyes. “I’m not shocked, Israel. I’m just hurt.”

Her words cut deep. “I’m sorry you feel that way.”

“I just want things to be different. I want us to be a team.”

I reached for my scarf. “Then give me room to make that happen.”

“It doesn’t feel like you’re making anything happen.”

“Says the woman who’s got a hit out on her head but isn’t dead yet.”

She sighed. “Israel, that’s not—”

“I have to go. I’ll bring home dinner. Five o’clock sharp. If I’m not back? You know who to call.”

“I do. Yeah.”

I pressed the button for the elevator. “Wonderful. Try to get some rest today. I know you must be frazzled still.”

“You think me weak when I’m anything but.”

I stepped into the elevator, then turned to face her. “You’re the strongest woman I know, Bonnie. But even the strongest have their weak points.”

The doors closed between us, and I focused on the task at hand. I had to get to the police station. I had an appointment with the chief of the department, Wiles Anderson, and we had much to discuss. Hell of a name for the chief of police, but I suppose it suited him well enough.

I wanted to speak with him about Bonnie’s family.

My security guard at the bottom of the elevator nodded as I stepped out. “Afternoon, sir.”

Another guard followed me to the front lobby door. “Let me get the door.”

And yet another one spoke into his wrist as I opened my town car door and slipped inside. “Bossman’s in the car. One scheduled destination.”

The security men talked around me as I slid into the back of my town car. I motioned for my driver to leave, then rattled off where we were headed. I slid my scarf off and gazed out the window, searching the rooftops for any glint of sunlight that didn’t belong. Once we pulled up to the police station, I focused on what I needed to do.

“Can I help you?” the plump man at the desk asked.

---