“Is this your professionalpsychicopinion?” He mocks.
I cross my arms. “Sorry. You had your chance at a palm reading, and you blew it by kidnapping me.”
“This isn’t a kidnapping,” he corrects me.
“Then what do you call flashing a gun, demanding I come with you, and taking me to the middle of nowhere?”
“A courtesy. A kidnapping would’ve been me snatching you off the street, tying you up, and tossing you in the back of a windowless van while you prayed for your life,” he says matter-of-factly.
A joke’s on the tip of my tongue, but I swallow it, realizing he’s dead serious. “What kind of ‘businessman’ are you, Mr. Calvani?”
“The kind you shouldn’t trifle with, Ms. Landry.”
To my surprise, we drive past the mansion to a boat dock. A large vessel manned by a captain and crew awaits us. Fear courses through my veins as the SUV comes to a stop. “What are we doing here?”
“We’re taking out the boat.”
Not bothering to correct him—that’s a freaking yacht, not a boat—I say in a rush, “Have fun. I’ll hang here and watch television.” I fiddle with the screen mounted to the back of my seat. “How do you work this thing? Never mind, I’ll figure it out.”
My door’s opened, and I squeal as I’m yanked out by the driver and practically dragged down the dock.
“Wait!” I cry as I’m tossed aboard the yacht.
A crewman’s there to greet me, grabbing my arm and slamming me down on the bench seat. My heart thuds frantically as Angelo climbs aboard, followed by the driver. Something is exchanged in what I’m guessing is Italian, and the captain pulls away from the dock. The sun’s beginning to set, and it would be lovely if I weren’t about to shit my pants.
We troll through the waters, eventually coming to a stop, with no land in sight. One of the crew members grabs a bag of mini marshmallows, and I’m beyond confused at what’s happening. He leans over and tosses a few in, making the water ripple as another crew member shines a flashlight.
It happens so fast, I don’t have time to scream; a gator surges out of the water with its jaws open. The huge creature smacks the water on the way back down with a violent splash.
“One of the most powerful bite forces in the animal kingdom, the American alligator,” Angelo comments. “Once those razor-sharp teeth clamp down on you, it’s nearly impossible to escape. Assuming you don’t drown by death roll.”
My body trembles as I swallow the lump in my throat.
The man beside me jerks me up, dragging me dangerously close to the edge of the boat.
“Wait! I’ll tell you whatever it is you want to know,” I beg, my voice bordering on hysterical.
“You will,” Angelo agrees. “And your honesty dictates whether or not you experience the strength of this gator’s bite force firsthand. Who hired you to work the gala?”
“No one,” I stammer, my body trembling like a leaf. “I’m a cannon. I work single O.”
“Layman’s terms,” he says impatiently.
“A pickpocket who works by herself. I’m skilled enough that I can pull off every part of what a team of pickpockets does together. For example, did you know your phone’s missing?”
Angelo pats his empty pocket, his eyes going wide.
I also couldn’t help myself; when I was scratching his beard with my left hand, I was stealing his phone with my right.
Reaching into my pocket, I hold his device over the water. “I go overboard, so does your phone.”
Angelo
Remi’s made a fool out of me twice now, and I should kill her for the disrespect, but I find myself laughing. “Tutti sottocoperta,” I command, and my men disappear inside the cabin.
“Come here, Remi.” I take a seat, patting the spot beside me.
“I think my odds are better with the gator.” She eyes me and then the water, but quickly concedes defeat as she hurries across the bow to join me.