Page 42 of Onyx Realm

“I don’t want to marry one of you,” I whispered.

Markos nodded. “Like I said, I have a solution.”

“And that is?” The words sounded funny, forced around the lump in my throat.

“A job.”

I snorted. “I’m a terrible farm hand.”

“Not what I’ve heard.” There was a note of warmth in his voice. “But that’s not the job.”

“Okay?” I breathed, suddenly keenly aware of how intimate this exchange was. His steady hands caressing my hair, carefully working the comb through the strands—it was overwhelming.

“You like to snoop. How sneaky can you be?”

I hummed softly. “Depends.”

He lifted his gaze and gave me an encouraging nod.

A sigh escaped my lips. “I’ve been known to pilfer through my brother’s business. Been doing it for decades, and he’s none the wiser.”

The chuckle that sounded behind me was rich and warm. It had to be why I opened up, continued to tell this stranger details I’d never told another soul.

“He never did figure out that it was me who told our mother about his dirty magazines as a teen. And I told his first wife where he hid the better whiskey.” In hindsight, that sweet soul never needed to know that detail. She had tragedy that not even my nosy self found until it was too late. “I found his...friend’s affair with their other friend’s second wife. That one I did tell him, and it was a mess. As was the time a business partner stole from them, and they couldn’t figure it out until I began to dig around.”

The more I admitted, the more it dawned on me how instrumental I could have been to the Famiglia. Not that my brothers would hear of such a thing. The mob was no place for a woman, they’d always said. I let their macho ideas hold me back.

Only to watch the don elevate his wife to the second highest position in the organization.

Love changed people, it seemed.

“So you’re good at uncovering secrets,” Markos observed, his fingers now working deftly at braiding my hair. I hadn’t even noticed when he’d switched from combing to braiding.

“I have a knack for it,” I admitted. The warmth of his hands against my scalp was distracting. “What exactly are you suggesting?”

His eyes met mine in the mirror, serious now. “We have enemies. People who would love nothing more than to see our family fall. I need someone who can move through certain social circles unnoticed. Someone who can listen, observe, and report back.”

“A spy?” I whispered, both horrified and intrigued.

“I prefer ‘intelligence gatherer,’” he said with a half-smile. “You’d be perfect.”

I jerked away, letting the braid fall half finished. His presence was stifling! I shook my head but failed to clear the fog. “How can you say that? You don’t even know me!”

Markos reached for a hair binder and held it out to me. I stared at it as if it would bite.

He sighed. “You’re right, I don’t. But.... How about a test run?”

There wasn’t time to think through what he offered. I didn’t want to return to Chicago. I also wasn’t keen on being a prisoner here. Was this really my choice? Escape to a gilded cage in the safety of my brothers’ domain, or marry and stay here? No. I could do it.

I could be this man’s spy.

Merciful heaven! I really liked this place. I could see myself living here amongst the villagers. And I was willing to work for this mobster in exchange for that opportunity.

Not that Markos knew that I’d learned the truth about his work. To push that thread, I asked, “What kind of businessmanneeds to know information about his competitors? Information that can’t be found through the normal channels?”

“All businesses worth their salt spy on each other. The government is one of the biggest.” His dark grin was sly and full of danger.

“I don’t want to get into trouble.” What was I saying?! I should be jumping on this opportunity, if for no other reason than to prove I was more than a pretty face.

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