Page 26 of The Mafia's Bride
Killian’s almond black, soulless eyes jump from me to Nico and back, calculating something in our faces. “Actually, Maeve doesn’t employ me. She’s not afraid to get her hands dirty. Unlike Ferguson, Maeve’s killer enough for this clan.”
Is that pride in his voice?
“I’m here to make sure you remember the agreement.” Killian faces my uncle, and I have the sudden urge to jump between them as a shield.
He’s a wildcard and that puts me on high alert whenever he’s near. I can’t control him.
“I remember.” Nico coughs, holding his cane firm, not bothered by the reaper. “I don’t need someone like you reminding me of my business, Linwood.”
“I would never be so bold, Nico.” He winks, but it’s fake. “Just a friendly reminder between two associates. I’ll let you enjoy your meal.”
He doesn’t bother to say goodbye, just turns toward the gravel parking lot behind the home. Before he’s completely out of sight, he looks back at us, narrowing his gaze on me like the heavy caress of a ghoul.
“I don’t think I need to remind you of your goal here, heir.”
I scoff, showing more bravery than I feel. “Or what, Linwood? You’ll come find me?” How does he know about the contract if he isn’t involved?
That smile again flashes, dipped in poison. “I won’t have to. Maeve will.”
As he disappears, Nico inhales sharply from the butt of his cigarette.
“Let me give you some advice, Lex,” Zio begins, chewing on his cheek. The smoke curls around his nose as the crush of stones under tires sounds in the distance. “Don’t alienate Linwood.”
I snort, flicking the ashes away. “Really, Zio? That man is not to be trusted.”
“Trusted? No,” he agrees. “But he can be a true asset if you know how to control him.”
“Nobody can control Linwood.” I scoff. “Just like no one can truly know how a viper will strike, no one can truly know what Killian Linwood will do.”
“He’s dangerous, piccolo, but he’s skilled.” He stubs out the cigarette onto his heel, leaning on the cane for support. “And even though you cannot control Linwood, there are others who can.”
I follow him to the stairs, confusion etching my brow. “Care to explain?”
Nico sighs tiredly. “When you’re older, Lex. When you’re older.”
10
LEX
Maeve meets us inside the foyer stoically. I’ve never seen her in person, the contract having been completed in secret weeks ago. But from what I’ve seen of Sloane, I expected another vivacious O’Brien woman, someone who could spar with me until we were both left breathless.
Not. Her.
Dressed in a tight black dress and a simple golden chain hanging down her front, I can only see the barest similarities between her and Sloane. Same dark green eyes, same thick lashes, same sharp chin.
But where there is life in Sloane’s gaze, a burning fire that wants to wrap around me and burn me alive, Maeve’s gaze is frozen like death. Her eyes scan us, calculating, looking for possible weakness.
Even in her thigh-high boots, her head barely reaches my chin.
“Nico. Alessio.” Her voice is dry, low. Sultrier than Sloane’s lovely feminine delight.
“Ace,” Nico greets, kissing her hand. There’s a twitch to her lips, but she doesn’t smile.
I raise her hand to do the same and get the same cool response. Not much impresses the leader and strangely, I admire it.
Her indifferent eyes sweep over my form again, taking in mypolished shoes, to the Prada jacket, and the unbuttoned black shirt. Her brow quirks but that’s all the response I get.
Finally, she nods once. “You’ll do.”
