Page 30 of Steal My Heart
Mafia old school.
Boss.
Things go quiet, and I jerk my ear from the door and tiptoe sprint down the hallway.
Chapter Nine
Remi
“Nola,” I call. Not having seen my cat since this morning, I’m starting to worry. And I’ve got enough things to worry about: like how I’ve made a deal with a mob boss.
I nervously chew on my bottom lip. Sure, I’m technically a criminal, but the itty bitty kind, not the organized kind. Hell, I didn’t even know the mob existed in New Orleans. And it doesn’t just exist, but thrives based on Angelo’s affluent lifestyle.
“Have you seen Nola?” I stop Corinne in the hallway.
“Not since she locked me in the pantry,” she tells me with attitude.
Without opposable thumbs, I’m not sure how that’s possible, but I don’t debate her as I continue down the hall.
My first stop is the kitchen pantry, just in case Nola’s the one who’s locked inside, but no luck. Closing the door, I glance out the window.
Nola’s frantically swimming circles in the deep end. She tries to pull herself out, but her claws have nothing to latch onto, and her head ducks below the surface.
My brain screams at me to go help, but my body won’t move. Paralyzed with images of the dead body floating, with the crippling fear that I could be that dead body floating…
Angelo appears, squatting down and reaching out his arms for Nola, but she’s too panicked to accept his help.
He stands, shrugging out of his coat and kicking off his Italian loafers before diving into the pool. Surfacing, Angelo slices through the water to my cat, grabbing her by the fur on the back of her neck and holding her up. Treading water with one hand, he works his way to the side, placing Nola onto the edge.
Angelo easily pulls himself out, his dress shirt and pants molded to his body. Moving calmly yet purposefully, he wraps a shivering Nola in the cashmere lining of his coat.
He bursts through the kitchen, and the part of my brain that was offline kicks back on. I hurry over to him, giving my cat a scratch under her wet chin. “Are you okay?” I ask her.
“Nola’s a strong swimmer; the problem was she couldn’t gain traction to pull herself out,” Angelo answers for her. “Come on, there’s a fireplace in the study.”
“What happened? You look like something the cat dragged in.” Alessandra appears in the doorway. Her eyes land on Nola. “Make that bobcat.”
“She’s not a bobcat,” Angelo and I say at the same time.
“Which of your classmates’ fathers is the veterinarian?” Angelo asks his sister.
“Rome’s dad,” Alessandra answers hesitantly.
“Get the boy to send his father over now. Nola needs urgent care,” Angelo orders.
“No, that’s okay. You don’t have to do that,” I say in a rush.
Angelo watches me intently before telling his sister, “Get the veterinarian here now.”
He takes off with Nola, with me chasing behind them. “You’re dripping water everywhere,” I tell him, but he continues to the study.
Gently placing Nola on the fireplace hearth, Angelo dances his fingers over her head before reaching to turn on the gas logs. To my shock, Nola butts his hand with her head, and he smiles, giving her another scratch.
“Angelo, she’s fine,” I argue as Nola’s purrs compete in volume with the crackling fire. “There’s no reason to get a vet all the way out here,” I implore.
“If you’re worried about the expense, you needn’t be. Of course I’ll foot the bill,” Angelo says, his voice laced with offense.
“Yeah, okay,” I tell him with a forced smile.
