Page 155 of The Wicked
“I’m not an idiot. Marino isn’t an idiot either. So, I’d advise you to stop whatever shit trap you’re trying to make him fall into; he’s not a saint. He will figure you out if he hasn’t already.”
“Oh, Cassie, why are you looking for answers where there’s no question? Manuel Conti used to be someone I worked for. What if I told you I was one of his housekeepers? I have scrubbed blood off wooden floors and stubborn rugs since I was sixteen—”
“I would ask you if I hadstupidtattooed on my forehead,” he said with a glare and turned his attention back to the road when the light turned green again. “Like I said, you are full of shit, and I’m going to figure you out.”
I watched him for about a minute before looking ahead. “I wouldn’t advise that, Casmiro.”
The tension inside the car thickened as my thumb absentmindedly stroked my purse. “The person who said curiosity killed the cat wasn’t delusional when he said it,” I mused aloud.
He glanced at me, and I caught his stare without a smile or a frown as I said, “Stay out of my way, and I’ll stay out of yours.”
“Is that a threat?” he asked, looking back at the road.
“I have a job to do, Mr. Valerio. Find the gold, find your fucking flash drives, and then get the fuck out of Marino’s compound. I despise compromise; that’s why I’m giving you a subtle reminder that if you try to compromise my mission, I will not hesitate to retaliate.”
“That sounds like a threat.” There was a warning in his voice.
“Take it however you want to. If you have no intention of finding common ground as I have done with Marino, then I am happy to make you my enemy.”
“The feeling is very mutual. I won’t fall for your bullshit like everyone has, Zahra. I’m on to you, and when I find proof, I’ll put you down myself.”
I ground my teeth together as I looked ahead, biting my tongue to stop myself from saying anything more, but I was certain about one thing.
He might be a problem.
Angelo collected me the moment Casmiro dropped me off at the airport. Unlike Casmiro, Angelo had greeted me; even though it wasn’t warm, it was something.
“Nice dress,” he said, leading us to the private-plane area, three guards behind us as we walked into an elevator.
“Thanks. Do you think I’m overdressed? Or underdressed. I’m not really used to fancy gatherings without being someone else,” I said, adjusting the dress as the elevator moved down.
Angelo glanced my way, giving me a subtle sweep. “Yeah, you’re perfectly dressed. It’s a business dinner that includes pompous men and their wives, girlfriends, or mistresses.”
“Oh… makes me wonder why your boss wanted me there.”
“Does it?” Angelo said, looking ahead. “I thought you shared an intimate relationship with him. The rooftop—”
“What did he say?” I rushed to ask.
“He didn’t have to say anything,” Angelo said, voice straight as he looked down at me. “But I’m watching you, Zahra. One wrong move against him, and you’re out.”
“Why the fuck does everyone seem to think I have some grand ulterior motive? Cassie almost chewed my head off in that car. Now you?”
“I have nothing against you, Zahra. All I care about is Marino. He doesn’t do things like this, so it only means whatever you both have is serious to him. The other day I caught you leaving his house. I’d like to think whatever you both are doing isn’t one-sided from his end. I will haunt you if you hurt him. That is not a threat but a fact.”
I swallowed. “I have no intention of hurting him… unless it is completely necessary and I have to protect myself. Then yeah.”
“You’re in no position to make comments like that; it makes it hard to trust you.”
“The last thing anybody should do is trust me, Angie. Besides, it wasn’t a comment. Just a fact.”
The elevator doors opened, and I walked out, spotting the plane right ahead, soldiers everywhere.
My heels clicked and echoed on the ground as I walked, and I could also hear Angelo’s footsteps behind me.
Eyes were on me when I approached the private plane. Apparently, Elio Marino never took dates to events like these, and I was an exception because he loved my company.
Bullshit.
