Page 36 of Salvatore

“Yes. And I’m doing well. Are you okay?”

Physically? Yes. But mentally? I have a feeling whatever’s in store will have me munching on antipsychotics for the unforeseeable future. “Yeah. I’m good. I just?—”

“That’s enough,” Salvatore warns.

I stiffen, not expecting him to open his mouth and expose our secret field trip.

“Ive?” Liv hedges. “Are you with someone?”

I glare at my idiotic driver. “No one important.”

There’s a rustle over the line, like Liv’s covering the mouthpiece. She murmurs undecipherable words to someone, then says, “Ivy, tell me who you’re with.”

“She’s with a friend,” Salvatore responds.

“What the fuck, Salvo?” A man’s voice carries through the phone.

Who the hell is that?

Salvatore snatches the cell from my hand and raises it to his mouth. “There’s no need to worry,” he says in a taunting voice. “She’s in good hands. We just have a few things to discuss, like her fake name, and why someone with her lineage would be stupid enough to frequent Smoke & Mirrors.”

All sense of hope flees my system.

Well, not so much for Liv, because before she became worried about my companion, she seemed safe. Confident. Apologetic. But it’s now clear Salvatore’sbellareference wasn’t coincidental.

“What fake name?” Liv pleads. “What lineage?”

“Those are questions you can ask once I’m done with her. Until then, you two need to stay out of it. I’m handling the situation withmi bella reina, and I won’t tolerate being interrupted.”

I wish I could scoff, but I’m too numb as he disconnects the call, severing whatever hope I had of returning to the happy life I’d fought hard to carve for myself.

“Turn your phone off.” He holds out the cell for me to take, yet my hands won’t move. I’m numb. Entirely hollow.

I’ve spentyearsdistancing myself from my past. I’ve survived homelessness, poverty, and isolation. I’ve overcome it all and made friends. I’ve cultivated a new family. Maybe not one born from blood, but our ties are just as deep… At least they were.

God only knows what Olivia and Allison will think of me when they learn the truth.

“Turn it off.” Salvatore dumps the phone in my lap and clasps the steering wheel, ignorant to the devastation he’s created or possibly just not giving a shit.

I do as he asks, navigating the cell buttons with numb fingers.

“You’re awfully quiet for someone whose concealed identity has just been unveiled.” He shoots me a smug look.

I raise my chin, fighting the urge to claw at his handsome face. “And you use a lot of three-syllable words for someone who looks like he doesn’t read beyond a fifth-grade level.”

He returns his attention to the road, humor shifting his lips.

I hate that he finds my insults amusing. I hate it so much I’m tempted to release my belt and swan dive out of this moving vehicle. Problem is, I know he’d follow, and I don’t have the resources to run. I barely have enough to hide.

I may have overcome poverty, but I still have to penny pinch. My bank account lacks the necessary zeros to flee the mafia.

I gnaw on my bottom lip, trying to convince myself there’s some fairy tale way to get out of this while Salvatore takes us to a wealthy suburb on the harbor, then pulls into a drive with looming steel gates before a two-story townhouse.

He reaches for the center console and finds a remote. Seconds later, those overbearing gates part and I’m being escorted into his lair.

A lone man stands in wait at the front door, suit-clad, face blank. It’s the first sign of security I’ve seen for the underworld criminal. But the lone soldier doesn’t acknowledge our arrival. He doesn’t even move.

Salvatore parks sideways across the two parking bays before a flowering hedge at the front of the building and cuts the engine.

---