Luciana
If I didn’t get my shaking under control, I was going to be worse off than I already was. I hobbled on one foot and pulled one heel off then grabbed the other, leaving me completely barefoot in a stranger’s home.
His tanned back was covered in tattoos.
His rock-hard stomach.
Neck.
Arms.
Ink was everywhere, in every different color of the rainbow; some of it looked new, as if he was trying to cover up the maps drawn all over his body.
The only reason I was able to look away from what I’d already decided was the most beautiful and angry man I’d ever met in entire life was because he scared me more than he intrigued me.
His words were harsh.
His tone menacing.
He carried himself like the world owed him everything — and with every fiber of my being, I believed he’d stay alive until he felt as if he’d squeezed every drop of what was owed him into his waiting hands.
The longer the silence stretched between us as he scrolled through his phone, the more uncomfortable I got.
Nikolai didn’t mention a cranky underwear model with too much money.
And yet there I was, standing in a mansion that looked as if it was either in the process of getting remodeled or gutted.
Pieces of furniture were covered in black tarp; some still in plastic as if the store had recently dropped them off. A large dining room set was shoved against one wall in the entry, and a bare marble table with a small black lamp was in the center of it. The walls were red, picture frames lined the floor leading up the stairs, and it was dark, so dark it was like walking into a cave, despite the fact that it had numerous windows and an open floor plan.
I did a slow circle, my heels crunching a piece of glass. “Are you… gutting it?”
“Did I ask you to speak?” He didn’t look up from his phone.
I flinched.
I’d never been treated so horribly in my entire life, and I worked with a man people called a sociopath.
So…
I jumped when the guy shoved his phone back in his pocket and put his hands on his hips. Every muscle was hard-earned; you could tell in the way they stretched taut across his stomach like trophies. Dark and red ink swirled near his right hip; a huge eagle spread across his chest with blood dripping down from its feathers. It would be pretty…
On a normal day.
In a normal situation.
Like, if I was sitting at a bar and the guy just spontaneously ripped his shirt and asked me to take a picture for his Instagram.
I highly doubted this guy even knew what Instagram was.
“May I—”
He glared.
Death wish, that was what I had.
I kept talking.
“May I use the restroom?”
“I let you in my home, and now you want something from me? Is that how this works?” I couldn’t tell if he was being serious or teasing.
His nostrils flared.
Yeah, he didn’t have a teasing bone in his body.
Nothing but anger up in there.
And something else I couldn’t quite place and didn’t want to even fixate on; the faster we got started, the faster I could leave. According to Nikolai, I’d be working with the heads of each family, except for Nixon, who was too busy to deal with me.
Those were the exact words given to Nikolai.
“Well?” He crossed his bulky arms. “Have an answer for me?”
So. Condescending.
So cruel. And for what purpose? To make me feel bad about myself? Talk about hostile work environment.
“Look.” I tried to match his glare. “I’m being paid to be here. I have a job to do. If you could just point me in the right direction, I can get started and get the hell away from you.”
His eyes flashed.
Poor life choices just kept getting made, didn’t they?
I jumped when a knock sounded at the door, followed by someone letting himself in.
He had dark hair past his chin, looked a bit older than Mr. I-Can’t-Even-Adult-Today, and at least wore a ghost of a smile across his full lips. Hey, at least he was wearing a shirt, unlike some people.
“Miss Smith?” He winked.
Chase snorted. “Smith? The name they give people who have bad last names. Could you be any more generic? Plain? Boring?”
“Enough, Chase,” the man snapped. His eyes were lethal as Chase held up his hands and shrugged. “Now…” He turned his attention back to me. “…my name’s Sergio. I’ll be giving you electronic access to all the files you need. You’ve already signed the NDA?”
I nodded and finally found my voice beneath all the giant balls I’d swallowed in my throat after being insulted for being plain, boring, basically the stupidest person on the planet. And maybe I was. I took the damn job without asking if I’d be put in the seventh circle of hell with Satan, aka Chase. “All the paperwork has been signed, yes.”
Sergio exhaled loudly and glanced between me and Chase. “Is this going to be a problem?”
I frowned. “The job?”
He shook his head slowly. “Nikolai didn’t give us any warning. The only person capable of handling you right now…” His voice trailed off. Please don’t say Chase. Please don’t say Chase. “Is Chase… He promised…” He spat the word promise as if it was a blood oath. “…to take care of finding a new lawyer, and since the ball was dropped, it’s his new job to show you the ropes. You’ll be working for the Abandonato family first, learning how things were done from the notes your predecessor left…”
I nodded. “I’m capable. I can do it.”
“I’m not questioning you.” He drew out the word you then glanced behind me to Chase. The air crackled with heat, anger.
I heard something loud get slammed against a wall, and then Chase was storming past us and up the stairs.
I finally exhaled as if I hadn’t taken a breath since entering the house. “He always like that?”
Something flickered across Sergio’s face before he whispered, “No.” And then, “This is… new.”
“His shining personality is new?” Yay me.
Sergio locked his green eyes on mine. “Sometimes, life doesn’t play fair. I’ve seen my share of death and destruction. I am not a good man.” Why was he telling me this? Dread washed over me. Just who were these people? “But that doesn’t change the fact that nothing, nothing in this damn world could ever prepare me to go through what he’s lived through.”
“He looks too young to have gone through a war.” I tried to lighten the mood.
Sergio’s head snapped toward mine. “All wars are different. Some are lost with words unsaid.”
Heaviness settled across my chest at his pained expression. He grabbed a flash drive from his pocket and handed it over to me. “It’s encrypted.” He handed me a set of codes. “They change every hour. Be sure to put in the right code or the system starts attacking itself in order to burn all the information.”
“Burn,” I repeated. “As in a fire?”
“As in, you get burned and lose your identity, your social security number, your life, and your eye color. Burned. You no longer exist. This file gets burned, and we no longer exist, so try not to kill us.”
“Okay.” I was scared shitless. I grabbed toward the codes with shaking hands.
He didn’t hand them over right away but gripped them tightly. “Nikolai says you’re capable.”
I gave him my most confident glare. “Trust him. And trust me.”
He released his grip and stepped back, just as something else crashed upstairs.
I flinched.
“Do yourself a favor…” He pointed me down the hall. “Lock the door to the office you’re in.”
My eyes widened. “Lock the door?”
“Keep the monster out.” He bit down on his lip as if he was trying to decide if it was smart to leave me and then he held out his hand. “Cell phone?”
I expected him to plug in his number, not grab it, drop it to the ground, and stomp all over it until it was shattered.
He handed me a new iPhone X. “Every number needed is plugged in. Don’t dial the number that says God unless you’re dying, and don’t call Chase on it. He doesn’t like anyone right now, especially humans who smile.”
I smiled.
He shook his head. “Ill-advised.”
My smile fell. “Alright, so do I just call you when I’m done?”
Sergio’s mouth twitched. “You’re working for the Abandonatos. Chase is your man. Make it work and pick a room.”
My stomach fell to my knees. “Pick. A. Room?”
“There are thirty-seven.” He shrugged. “Might I suggest grabbing the one farthest away from wherever he’s miserably existing?”
“How long?” I croaked. “How long do I have to stay here?”
“Finish the job. Move on to the next family.”
Finish the job. Move on to the next family. That was going to be my new mantra.
“And transportation?”
Sergio put on a pair of sunglasses and smirked. “Just don’t take his favorite car, and you’ll be fine.” He turned to leave.
“Wait!” I called. “Which one’s his favorite?”
He chuckled. “No clue. Good luck.”