Page 5 of Soulmate of the Mafia King
After a few minutes, it was clear. There would be no sleep in Cairo for me without Tom.
CHAPTER 4
TOMMASO
Killian and I hefted the last box of—fuck, I didn’t even know anymore—but we hefted it into the trunk of the last truck. I wiped freezing sweat off my forehead and looked at the sky starting to lighten. Mostafa said he thought we’d be able to strike tomorrow night, but I could’ve done with another week just to sleep through. Plane naps really didn’t do it.
Without a word, Killian and I got into the car. Old habits put me in the passenger’s seat and him driving. I switched on the music, changed the station a few times, and ultimately shut it off again. The incipient sunrise tortured me. I’d told Paige I’d be there soon. We had one more trip, but I didn’t know if I’d make it back before the desert night turned to day.
She seemed to be getting along with Sam okay, but I couldn’t imagine she was happy alone with so many men. Not for the first time, I considered swapping out one of her security team for Lyle. At the very least, she knew his face. But Lyle wasn’t just a tech guy, he was also a scrappy motherfucker when the time called, and I needed him at my side.
Our side. Paige was going to be there too.
I sighed, and Killian glanced at me.
“You seem excited,” he said sarcastically.
“Tired.” I smiled wanly.
He nodded. “And you’re thinking about Paige.”
I shot him a look, but my stomach churned as he mentioned her. I should’ve gone with her. Killian and Stan could’ve handled the load-in. And if that half-remembered dream of her being upset was real, I should’ve been with her double. She needed to be able to rely on me. Stupid.
“Thinking about how she’s probably monopolizing the king bed without me, more like,” I said as if I could still trick my oldest friend.
“I’m not going to waste our time talking around this,” he said. “She should stay at the hotel during the attack.”
I exhaled heavily. “Do you really think I disagree with that?”
“Well, then what the fuck is she doing on the mission team?” he asked. “I know she’s been practicing shooting or whatever, but this is a serious fight, Tommaso.”
“I know.” I threw my hands up. “But she wants to be there. She wants to finish this because it started with her. And what the fuck am I gonna do? Tell her no?”
“Yes,” Killian said simply.
I rolled my eyes. “Easy for you to say. Sera wants to be home as much as you want her there.”
“She’s going to distract you.” Killian took on the bland monotone he usually did when giving someone bad personal news. “You’re the leader here, and if you’re split, everyone’s at risk.”
I gritted my teeth and stared up at the sky through the windshield, a sky crowded with so many stars I almost couldn’t see the night between them.
“I know,” I said after a long moment. “But she’s the reason we’re all here. She’s the reason I’m—” I barely held back the confession I’d been toying with for a while, the sense I wasn’tquite a mob boss anymore, and that wasn’t what Paige wanted for me anyway. “—The reason I’m fighting.”
Killian sighed and pulled behind the house I’d rented for our headquarters. It was a towering, falling apart, old place less than a mile from Zahur’s palace. It was funny how much difference a mile could make, but the same was true back home. We loaded in the last crate, and Killian didn’t say anything else about Paige.
Men milled through the living room and kitchen. A few organized the crates that had been piled into the dining room tiredly. I clapped my hands, and every eye in the room turned to me.
“Rest up,” I said. “Tomorrow’s the night, and I need everyone sharp. Teddy can tell you what room you’re in. Carp has the equipment list. I’ll let you know if anything changes.”
I got various mumbled responses, and an army of tired mafiosos stumbled to bed. I said and quick goodbye to Killian, walked a ways up the road from the house, and called a taxi. The night felt much emptier without him beside me. We were now close enough that I could smell Cairo, and the scent brought me right back to seeing Paige for the first time, to the white-hot rage at her treatment that brought me to this moment. Tomorrow, the man who did that to her would be dead. Tonight, I needed to be by her side.
Like every other cab ride I’d taken in the city, the cabbie drove like he’d never heard of a brake pedal. On the outskirts near the house, we flew down the road, but as dawn reached grasping fingers over Cairo with the first breath of the day’s heat, traffic threatened to slow his one-man racing game. Of course, he dealt with that by weaving through the other cars, knocking me around like a bead in a maraca. It made meaningful reflection on the fight to come difficult. In truth, I barely knew if I had a thought beyond “oh, shit” until he pulled up to the underground entrance to the hotel.
“Is fancy,” he said.
I nodded and climbed out of the car to handle the intercom, then back in. He raised an eyebrow at me. I waved him forward as the door opened. I’d picked this hotel on purpose. Their security was supposed to be top-notch and, even better, they were willing to keep their mouths shut about when their services were needed.
The taxi pulled up to the elevator, and I grabbed my wallet. The price of the ride, doubled, and an extra hundred dollars on top should do it.
