Two days later, and I found myself sitting outside one of those twee little designer shops Maria was so fond of, taking in the evening sun as it warmed my face. It was around seven, and I had been out all day looking after Maria again—not that I was finding it too much of a trial, not after she’d opened up to me the way she had.

 

We hadn’t discussed that little conversation we’d had heading back in the car the other night, but it was hanging in the air between us every time we spoke. I wondered if she was even aware she’d said it; after all, she’d seemed half in a trance when she spoke all of that to me, as if she didn’t even know what was coming out of her mouth. Her father would surely have wanted to kill her if he’d heard even half of what she’d said to me, admitting that she wasn’t as happy as all that. That his world, the world saturated with murder and violence and death, wasn’t the one she wanted to be in—hell, was likely one she wished she’d had the chance to opt out of years ago.

 

But, unlike me, she never had even the pretense of a chance to choose something different. When you were the daughter of a man as powerful as Lucca was, you had to shut up and put up with whatever he wanted from you. No questions, no doubting—just deferring to him. I could see why it would have gotten to her as much as it had. It would drive me crazy, never having the choice.

 

I twisted against the hard wooden slats of the bench I was sitting on, peering through the large plate-glass window at the front of the store and in at Maria. She seemed happy—a beaming smile practically split her face in two as she held up some scrap of fabric to her body, cocking her head at the store assistant as though looking for an opinion. The color, a light blue, popped against the blonde of her hair and drew out the robin’s-egg colored flecks in her eyes. It made her look even more striking than she already did, and that was saying something. I watched as she stuck a leg out, striking an exaggerated pose, as the assistant laughed politely. She was so full of energy since we’d gone to the viewings, as though she knew she was on the edge of getting out for good.

 

I couldn’t help but wonder what her game plan was—she surely couldn’t believe that she could make a clean break from her father. His people were peppered all over town, impossible to avoid even if you wanted to. Was she naïve to it, or didn’t she care? I had no idea, but neither was particularly encouraging considering what she was trying to do. Lucca D’Orazio was territorial at the best of times, and I had no doubt that he would be a fucking nightmare when it came to his own daughter. Weren’t all fathers? But then, not all fathers had access to gangs, assassins and PIs all over the city. I guessed that was the difference.

 

She paid for the dress and watched lovingly as it was wrapped up and tucked away in a signature bag for her to take away. She thanked the assistant and stepped outside, lifting her hand to shield her face from the sun and squinting her eyes at me.

 

“Are you ready to go?” I asked, and she shrugged and let out a sigh.

 

“I guess so.” She glanced around one more time, as though imprinting the street on her brain. I knew she didn’t want to go home, and part of me felt bad for taking her back, but what could I do? Take her back to my place and put her up until the heat died down? The heat would never go away, and chances are I would end up with a bullet between the eyes for my troubles. Nah, she could keep it. I felt for her, but not enough to put my life in danger.

 

She looped her arm into mine as we made our way up the street, her hips swaying from side to side as she walked. I couldn’t help but feel a little proud, to be seen with a woman as fucking gorgeous as her on my arm; I noticed a few jealous looks from the dispersing crowd of shoppers as we went by, and smiled to myself. There were perks to this job, all right.

 

Not to mention the fact that Maria had been getting more and more flirtatious with every day that went by. It seemed as though the further she got from her father, the more she was acting out—and I seemed to be the main focus of her fluttering eyelashes. She laughed a little too much at my jokes, and initiated physical contact whenever she could—she was more than happy to have me pretend I was her boyfriend or husband, and acted accordingly whenever someone noticed me hanging out near her.

 

I didn’t mind too much, but I knew I had to keep her at arm’s length—ending up in bed with her would likely be as much of a death wish as hiding her out would be. Lucca definitely seemed like the kind of behind-the-times asshole who would hold his daughter’s sex life against her, and there was no way in fucking hell I was getting involved with all of that shit.

 

As we headed back to the car, I heard Maria’s phone buzzing in her pocket. She was busy staring out across the crowd in front of us, enjoying her last few specks of freedom before she had to head home again, so I nudged her.

 

“Your phone.” I nodded towards her pocket, and she unhooked her arm from mine and reached for it. She pulled it from her pocket and wrinkled up her nose, before thrusting the phone in my direction.

 

“It’s my father,” she sighed. “You answer it.”

 

I raised my eyebrows at her, and watched as she made her way towards a bench opposite us. She plonked herself down and crossed her arms, her back to me. I picked up the call and lifted the cell to my ear, more nervous than I perhaps should have been.

 

“Hello, Jasper here?” My voice ticked up into a question despite my intentions, and I willed myself to calm down. He wouldn’t know anything; how could he? There was no reason to get all uptight and nervous about this shit when I hadn’t done anything wrong.

 

“Jasper?” Lucca snapped, and I could hear the annoyance in his voice. “Where’s Maria? She alright?”

 

“She’s, uh, she’s fine, she just asked me to take this call for her,” I assured him. “She’s buying a dress. What’s up?”

 

“I need you to hide her out for the evening,” Lucca replied, and I could practically hear him running his fingers agitatedly through his hair. He was pacing back and forth; I could hear his expensive shoes taking heavy footsteps on the floor, even through the phone. Something must have gone seriously wrong.

 

“What do you mean?” I asked. I looked over at Maria, wondering if she had any idea what was going on. A little unwelcome thought flickered through my head; if I had to keep her safe for the night, chances were we’d be spending it alone together somewhere secret. Whether that was a good thing or a bad thing, I wasn’t sure yet, but a little flicker of excitement started up in my stomach regardless. I was looking forward to getting her alone more than I thought I would be.

 

“I mean, some shit’s going down here and I don’t want my daughter anywhere near it,” he growled. He was trying his best to keep his temper in check, but I could hear that wobble of fury in his voice. His tone was low, as though he thought that if I could barely hear him I wouldn’t get an inkling of what was going on.

 

“Okay, okay,” I agreed, desperate to get him off the phone. Every second I spoke to him was a second he might figure out the way I was thinking about his daughter, and that was the last thing I wanted to risk. “Where do you want me to take her?”

 

“A hotel, I don’t care,” he shot back, distracted. “Just use fake names, keep her safe. You get it?”

 

“I get it,” I agreed.

 

“I’ve transferred some money through to your account,” he explained. How had he gotten my details? Not important—he probably had my fucking shoe size and elementary school on his database somewhere.

 

“Okay.”

 

“It should be enough to get somewhere nice for the next few days,” he assured me. “I have to go, but get in touch when you have her safe. Is that clear?”

 

“Yes, sir,” I replied, adding the “sir” without thought.

 

“And Jasper?”

 

“Yeah?” I had almost hung up when he spoke again, his voice dripping with threat.

 

“If you don’t keep her safe, I’m going to fucking pull your head off your shoulders,” he warned.

 

“Understood,” I muttered, and hung up the phone. As if I didn’t know that already. As if I didn’t know that from the moment I got this job. Still, it was unsettling to hear him putting it so openly, and I felt suddenly cold despite the warm evening air coddling me.

 

Maria was still sitting with her back to me as I made my way over to her. I could see that she had heard me coming as her fingers tensed on her upper arms, as though she was annoyed by my very existence.

 

“What does he want?” she asked, turning around when I was within a few feet of her. I handed her the phone back and she held it between her thumb and forefinger, as though it were a piece of old laundry she’d forgotten to throw in the wash.

 

“I don’t know what’s going on,” I admitted. “But he wants me to take you somewhere to stay for the night. He says it’s not safe for you to go back to the house for the time being.

 

“You serious?” Her eyes brightened. “Where did he say that we should go?”

 

“He sent me money for a hotel, but I don’t know how much,” I replied. I sighed to myself. I wasn’t this woman’s fucking butler, for Christ’s sake—yeah, I didn’t want her to get hurt, but overnighting was way outside of what I had signed up for with this job.

 

“Oh, whatever—I’ve got my card on me, we can go to the best place in town.” She leapt to her feet, a smile breaking over her face. She scooped the bag containing her dress and let it dangle from her wrist, looking to everyone who might have glanced at us like a normal, happy, twenty-something woman.

 

“He told me to keep you safe,” I reminded her, Lucca’s warning still ringing loudly in my ears. “We should go somewhere a little more discreet. I don’t want you getting hurt.”

 

I was surprised at how little she seemed to care that her father was in some kind of danger—was she used to this? She seemed to be. This couldn’t have been the first time this sort of thing had gone down in the D’Orazio household—hell, I imagined they would have been dealing with crap like this on a pretty regular basis. Maybe these nights were the only times she saw a glimpse of freedom, the only times she was allowed to spend a night by herself without having to worry about her father coming out to find her. Or maybe—and perhaps this was worse—before me, Lucca had just kept her in the house when whatever terrible shit was happening was going down, and just prayed she wouldn’t get hurt. Either way, I could understand her excitement, even if it did seem a little callous.

 

“Oh, don’t worry.” She waved her hand. “I’m a D’Orazio. I’m not completely guileless.”

 

She practically skipped off down the street, the bag bouncing alongside her, and I had to hurry to keep up. The sun was setting, and we had to find somewhere to spend the night—just the two of us.