JOE FELT LIKE a jackass, and that was probably the worst thing about this whole fucking night next to the scowl Liliana couldn’t seem to drop. He had no doubt that he was the cause of her bad mood, and he wished he could fix it.
Shit.
More than anything, he wished he could fix it.
Even as he moved around the women dressed in ballgowns, and the men in their three-piece suits at the charity event, he knew this kind of thing wouldn’t have been his scene to begin with. But … Joe would have come for Liliana, and put a fucking smile on because he was there with her, and nothing else.
Except he couldn’t do that at all.
This event was quite public. Media outside, and the whole fucking shebang. Being pictured and seen with Liliana would have defeated the whole purpose of staying under the radar in New York. And it most definitely would have defeated the purpose of being her bodyguard of sorts that no one was supposed to know about.
Problem was, Joe couldn’t even explain all of that to Liliana. He gave his word that he wouldn’t tell her—he was nothing if not a man of his word.
To everyone else but her, apparently.
Damn.
His thoughts were something else tonight. Punishing and cruel. They were giving him all kinds of hell for being such a fuck up, and frankly, he deserved it.
Slipping in behind a group of too-loud guests at the event, Joe found Liliana with her mother and father just a few steps away. Cella—one of Liliana’s younger sisters—joined them soon after, too.
Joe was in just the right spot—slightly hidden by the group of people, and half in the shadows the cascades of lights created against the backdrop of silk draperies hanging from the walls and ceilings. He wasn’t a huge fan of the way the organizers had decorated the place, but what did it matter about how he felt?
If anything, the way it was set up gave him ample room to move, and yet, stay out of sight at the same time. He knew—at the very least—Lucian had to know Joe was there, if only because the man was the entire reason why Joe knew about the event, and had the ticket to get in the door.
Although, Joe entered the less conspicuous way through the back entrance, and had his ticket snipped there.
The clang of silver against crystal echoed through the speakers strategically placed in the venue, and brought the attention of the very rich guests to the front of the ballroom. A woman standing on the raised platform at the front—where the band had been playing for a good majority of the night—set her glass aside so she had a better grip on the microphone in her hand while she spoke.
Joe wondered why she had to clink her fucking glass into the microphone instead of just speaking into it to begin with.
Who knew why people did what they did. Certainly not him, anyway.
What was this charity event for again?
Women’s shelters, and domestic violence awareness, he thought. Joe couldn’t be sure, but he was pretty sure that’s what all these people had gathered for. His part there wasn’t really to do anything regarding the event, but just keep an eye on Liliana from afar—especially considering Lucian could only get a couple of men inside the place for the night.
Lucky Joe got one of the short sticks on the draw, apparently.
Here he was.
Joe’s gaze drifted to Liliana as the woman at the front began to speak. He could have been over there … with her. She probably wouldn’t be feeling like a discarded piece of trash—yeah, he saw that look of shame and embarrassment she tried to hide the night before. And she certainly wouldn’t be wearing a semi-permanent scowl, either.
“The silent auction in the connecting room will be open in five minutes!”
Shit.
Less people would be around for Joe to use to blend in and hide himself as the guests moved between the ballroom, and the next room for the auction. He didn’t want to risk blowing his cover to Liliana. He didn’t think she would appreciate seeing him there—even if he could excuse it with a lie—after refusing to come with her.
The universe was having a good laugh at his expense.
Or … God.
One of the two.
The quiet conversation happening just a few feet away drew in Joe’s attention for a moment. He had a couple of minutes before he had to find another way to make himself scarce, anyway, so he listened while he could.
Punishing himself more, clearly.
“Why are you in such a shitty mood tonight?” he heard Cella ask.
“Leave her be,” the Marcello wife replied.
Jordyn, Joe knew. The woman’s name was Jordyn. Lucian’s wife, and Liliana’s mother. Although, Joe had never gotten a proper face to face with the woman, or even had a conversation with her. It didn’t matter—he could easily see where Liliana took the majority of her features from, the shape of her eyes, to the high cheekbones, and pretty bow-shaped lips. Those eyes were all her father, though.
“Oh, wait—is this about that guy?” Cella asked.
Joe stiffened.
So did Lucian.
“What guy?” Lucian asked.
Liliana gave her sister a look that silently screamed for her to shut up.
Cella only shrugged. “My bad.”
“What guy?” Lucian asked again.
“Joe Rossi,” Liliana muttered, and then sharply to her sister, “And no, it’s not about him, thank you very much.”
“Oh-kay.” Cella’s brow lifted high. “Considering your tone right then, yes, it absolutely is.”
Liliana sighed loudly.
Lucian was still staring at his daughter. “Care to tell me what’s going on between you and Joe?”
“Not particularly, and nothing, now.”
“What?”
“Lucian,” Jordyn said, tugging on the arm of his jacket, “let’s move into the auction room. They’re opening the doors.”
Joe could plainly see the man was not quite finished with his discussion, but his wife had spoken. Clearly, when the wife spoke, the man moved. Much like the men in Joe’s family, too. It was almost comical how no matter where he went, that same thing never changed between husbands and wives.
He glanced at Liliana again …
She was pissed.
Sad.
Uncomfortable.
This was supposed to be a fun night for her, he imagined, and his refusal had ruined her mood and the whole thing.
So, yeah. Maybe Joe understood why when a man cared a great deal about a woman, he simply gave her whatever she wanted to always keep her pleased, smiling, and happy. He would do just about anything to make Liliana happy right then, but he couldn’t.
Duty called.
People were moving.
Joe had to move, too.
Shit, where did she go?
Joe had moved toward the front of the venue when he heard Liliana mention she was leaving the event early, but here it was ten minutes later, and the girl still hadn’t passed him by to exit the building.
Fucking hell.
He had no real reason to be concerned—Liliana might have gotten mixed up in a conversation with someone she knew, or maybe her sister or parents convinced her to stay for a little while longer. It wasn’t necessarily a reason for him to be worried like he was.
Still, he did worry.
A lot.
Something just didn’t sit right with him, and Joe wasn’t the kind of man who ignored when his instincts started screaming at him. Men who had a death wish ignored when something felt off because that’s all it did for them—brought death.
Moving back through the crowd, Joe quickly scanned the people. He searched for the one dress in the crowd—finding Liliana’s wine-red gown would be easier, considering no one else had worn that color. Or at least, not that he had seen.
And then … shit.
There she was.
Tucked into the corner of the room with a man Joe didn’t recognize. The two stood a little too close for his liking. Maybe only a foot apart. The man was smirking, and not in a very kind way. Although, when was smirking ever kind?
It didn’t matter.
Joe could tell by the tension in Liliana’s shoulders, and the way her fists were balled at her sides that she wasn’t comfortable with the man—whoever in the hell he was. Moving closer, at least enough to hear their conversation, Joe was careful about not drawing their attention to him.
“What do you want?” Liliana asked.
“Don’t be like that, Lilibet.”
Joe stiffened on the spot.
She hated that name.
Rich had called her that name, too.
Before Liliana could even respond, the man went on to say, “Rich misses you, that’s all. He knew I was going to be here tonight, and thought I could pass along a message.”
“Or did he send you, Trevor?” Liliana asked, venom coating her every word. “This isn’t exactly your scene, is it? You don’t have deep enough pockets to be on the guest list.”
“Ouch,” Trevor murmured, “shoot me right in the heart.”
“I might be more polite, except I’m not stupid. I know why you came.”
“He’d like to see you.”
“Nope,” Liliana said.
Joe didn’t miss the clenching of her jaw when she said that, or the way she swallowed hard, too. All signs of fear, even through her anger.
“You could—at the very least—see him for dinner, or something,” Trevor offered.
“Okay, that’s enough.” Liliana picked up the skirt of her dress, and turned to walk away from the man. “The least I could have done for him, Trevor, I did. It’s Rich who can’t say the same for me. Considering what he did—”
Before Liliana could even walk away, Trevor grabbed her by the back of her arm. A hard enough grip that even from ten feet away, Joe could plainly see the way the man’s fingers dug into her arm hard enough to redden her skin.
Joe’s anger burned hotter.
His rage spilled over.
For a second, he forgot what his purpose was being here at this event. He forgot that he wasn’t supposed to be noticed, or draw attention to himself.
He forgot … because the man put his hands on Liliana. Trevor touched her, and Joe blew his fucking top.
It certainly didn’t help to soothe Joe’s rage when Trevor yanked Liliana back, and caused her to stumble over her dress. It was her quiet cry of surprise that sent Joe ramming forward through the crowd.
It was amazing to him how easily—considering his size—that he could blend into a crowd. And then just as fast, how his size could fucking part it, too.
Liliana saw Joe coming first.
Widened eyes.
Confusion.
Concern.
All that stared back at him, but he wasn’t really paying attention. His gaze was laser focused on the foolish fucker with his fingers still wrapped too tightly around Liliana’s arm. He had exactly one-point-two seconds to let her go before Joe made him do it.
Trevor saw Joe, then, too. He didn’t recognize him if the expression on his face was any indication. Joe was going to consider that a win for the whole staying-under-the-radar thing.
That one-point-two seconds was up.
Joe’s fist reared back, and then slammed into the man’s face. All at once, several things happened. Trevor bled from the busted mouth he now sported—he’d be lucky if Joe hadn’t broken out his front teeth from the force of the punch—and Liliana fell from the man’s hold as he dropped to the ground to clutch his broken face.
“Fucking stay down there like the dog you are,” Joe spat at the man.
“Joe?”
He was still considering hitting the man again. All it took was looking at the idiot on the ground, and Joe’s rage swelled all over again.
“Joe,” Liliana said, forcefully the second time.
Joe’s attention went back to her, and everyone else.
Shit.
He’d drawn attention. Gazes were on them. Large men in three-piece black suits with comms in their ears were coming his way.
So, maybe he didn’t think this through.
“Why are you here?” Liliana asked.
Joe gave her a look, and then scanned the crowd.
He didn’t have an answer.
Not a good one.
“Are you following me?” she demanded.
Joe’s gaze darted back to hers. “You won’t like the answer to that one, Liliana.”
Disbelief, and disgust colored up her pretty features. He hated seeing that expression on her face, and hated even more that it was directed at him.
“What do you want, Joe?”
He pointed down at the man still on the floor. “What does he want, Liliana?”
Joe didn’t get the chance to pull an answer out of her. Lucian slipped through the semi-circle of the gathering crowd, and his gaze met Joe’s.
“Get out the back, and don’t be photographed,” Lucian demanded. “Be at the mansion—this will be handled.”
Joe knew better than to argue.
Liliana still looked like she hated him.
Great.
Liliana didn’t even see Joe standing beside the window when she was directed into the sitting room of the Marcello mansion. He kept his back to the wall, and his gaze on her as she moved to one of the plush leather couches, and fell into it.
“Are you still pissed at me?” he asked.
Liliana jumped, and her eyes widened when she found where he was standing. “Do you just … always do that?”
Joe’s brow furrowed. “Do what?”
“Hide like that. Sneak up on people. Scare the hell out of them, Joe.”
Joe didn’t get the chance to answer, as Lucian strolled into the room and spoke for him. No one followed behind the man.
“That’s kind of the point of Joe,” Lucian said to his daughter. “He’s called the Shadow for a reason—people aren’t typically meant to see him.”
Confusion lit up Liliana’s features as she glanced between her father, and Joe. And then, as though it all came onto her at once, and understanding dawned in her eyes. She settled on looking at Joe when she spoke, and not her father.
“You’re working for him,” she said. “That’s what you meant when you said I wouldn’t like your answer about if you were following me or not.”
Joe swallowed thickly. “Does it really matter?”
He could tell she was hurt. For what reason, he didn’t quite know yet. It didn’t really matter, either. Her hurt was enough to pain him, too.
“It matters,” Liliana said. “Is that what it is, Daddy? He’s working for you, or Uncle Dante?”
Lucian sighed. “Joe has been hired to … look after you, we’ll say. We didn’t want him letting you know that was the job. You have a lot on your plate, and I didn’t want to worry you with anything that wasn’t important details.”
“Important details?”
Liliana scoffed.
Hard.
Lucian cleared his throat, and glanced at Joe before saying, “No, I didn’t feel it was important. Just like you didn’t know who I had acting as your enforcer before Joe. It’s no different.”
“It is different.” Liliana’s attention cut back to Joe, and her burning gaze felt like a sharp knife slicing through his skin. “And he knows exactly why it’s different.”
Shit, yeah.
He did know.
He knew exactly why she was hurting when she put it like that, and he was more than willing to take the blame for it, too.
Joe had gotten close to Liliana on a personal level, and that left her exposed. Maybe had he been honest with her upfront, she wouldn’t be feeling like she did right now. Betrayed, and so confused.
He got it.
How could he fix it?
“I should have told you,” Joe said.
“You think?” she asked.
“He was ordered not to,” Lucian added.
His words made no difference.
Joe knew it before he even said it.
Interestingly enough, Joe didn’t miss how Lucian offered information about how Liliana was the job, and not the other pieces of information that went along with it. Like how Joe had been first hired to kill two men—one of which was the father to a man Joe suspected she had been involved with in some way.
No, Lucian didn’t mention that at all.
Liliana glanced back at Joe, and he swore he saw a line of water filling her hazel eyes. “So, that’s what it is, then.”
“I don’t follow,” Joe said.
“A job. I was a job.”
Joe blinked. “Liliana—”
“No,” she said, standing from the couch. “I get it, Joe.”
There was a lot of things he wanted to say in that moment. A hell of a lot he thought Liliana needed her eyes opened to.
Like the fact that when something happened she didn’t like, the first thing the girl did was get up, and run. For some, that might be seen as cowardly, but Joe saw it as a way Liliana protected herself from getting hurt.
He understood.
But it hurt him, too.
And she should know that.
And yet, the woman’s father standing in the room kept Joe from blurting out some kind of personal shit that he didn’t want people knowing. He especially didn’t want other men in this life to know he’d found a weakness in himself.
Or rather, this woman brought out Joe’s weakness.
Maybe that was Joe’s flaw—Liliana ran, and Joe was too cold. She had her way of protecting herself, and he had his way of safeguarding his secrets, too. That didn’t mean it was good, but humans were predictable that way.
“Yeah,” Liliana said, giving Joe another look. “I fucking get it, Joe.”
He knew what she was seeing; his blank expression, and stiff posture. A cold aura, and a dispassionate delivery to his words. It was the mask he kept firmly on when other men like him were present, and he was not going to drop it right then, either. She didn’t know these things, but he had never offered an explanation, either.
Whose fault was it, then?
Liliana nodded. “I’m just a job.”
“Liliana—”
“Call me a driver,” she interrupted her father. “I need to go home.”
“You could stay, and—”
“I’m going home.”
Lucian didn’t bother to argue with her further, and instead, waved his hand at the door for her to leave. Liliana didn’t even give Joe a look over her shoulder as she left in her floor-length, beautiful wine-red gown.
He didn’t blame her, either.
Once her footsteps couldn’t be heard anymore, Lucian turned to Joe again. He didn’t want to talk—really wasn’t in the mood for another lecture about how he hadn’t followed through on his hits, yet, and the rest of that bullshit.
Joe was too busy being stuck in his own head, and trying to figure out how to fix what he fucked up on. He’d never had to fix something with a woman before, and he didn’t like how much it hurt in his chest to know that he’d caused Liliana some kind of pain.
Or that he made her feel anything less than … adored.
Because he did adore her.
“I know,” Joe murmured, pushing away from the wall, “get the fucking job done. Save your breath, Lucian.”
“Actually,” Lucian said, clearing his throat, “I was going to say that should you finish this job out, I wouldn’t mind giving you a second chance to correct whatever happened here tonight, Joe.”
“I’m sorry?”
“My daughter, and all my children. I tend to … stay out of their personal business. Something my wife and I chose a long time ago where our children were concerned. I didn’t realize there was something going on between you and Liliana, and I realize I may have just made your situation worse. I apologize.”
Huh.
“She’s a good girl,” Lucian added quieter. “And the thing about her is—well, she doesn’t care who you are, or the things you do, Joe. If she loves you, then she overlooks the rest. I’m sure you know being in this business … a woman like that is terribly hard to find, and the men who do have a woman like that are the luckiest of us all.”
“You’re right about one thing.”
“Which one?”
“It was hard to find her; twenty-one years, actually.”
Joe wasn’t sure he would say love—not yet, anyway. He would say that if he had one person in the world, he thought it might be Liliana. There was something about her that kept drawing him in. She was spectacular; captivating. And she had done exactly that to him with nothing more than a sly smile, and a few quick words in a darkened hallway.
Captivated him.
And so maybe, he wanted to see where this might go with her. He wanted to have that chance, but the circumstances just weren’t lining up for either of them at the end of the day. Things kept getting in the way.
Lucian nodded. “You could drop your walls down a bit with us—my family, I mean. Let her see something from you other than … this person I’m looking at. We’re not out to hurt you, Joe.”
“Right again,” Joe returned, heading for the entryway of the room, “I could, Lucian, but I probably won’t. I am who I am.”
Joe left the rest of his words unsaid.
He figured he didn’t have to say them.
They can take me as I am, or not.
Liliana included.
“Fuck,” Joe groaned.
He wasn’t a drinker, but sometimes, a man needed a few shots—or a bottle, who was counting?—of whiskey to be able to close his damn eyes, and go to sleep. After the night before, he figured drinking was the very least he could do to feel better.
He was seriously regretting that choice now that he was trying to peel his eyes open, and the sunlight filtering in through the windows all but burned his eyelids.
Jesus Christ.
And what was the noise?
It made the throbbing in his temples pick up speed. Joe pressed his palms to his eyes to try and relieve some of the pressure, but it didn’t work.
His phone.
Yeah, that’s what the sound was.
His goddamn phone.
Blindly, Joe swung his arm out and felt for his phone on the nightstand. It kept ringing, vibrating, and beating like a damn drum inside his head. Finally, he found the stupid thing, and turned it on before dragging it to his head.
“What?” he snapped.
“Who shit in your Cornflakes?”
Oh, God.
Why did Cory have to be this cheerful in the morning?
It never ended.
“What do you want?”
“You don’t sound good, man,” Cory said.
“Cory, I don’t even have a nerve left for you to work, all right. So, whatever it is, get it the fuck out.”
“I mean, if you want to be a prick about it, then maybe I got nothing for you. If you want to perk your attitude up, and act pleasant like our mother taught you to, then maybe I have some information about your Rich Earl. Which do you want to choose, Joe?”
Damn.
“I’d prefer the bad mood,” Joe grumbled.
“And yet …”
“What do you have, Cory?”
He forced his tone to be pleasant.
It was the best Joe could do.
“Well, nothing concrete.”
“Then why are you calling me? Because I am pretty sure you told me it was going to take a week or more to get any kind of useable info, so if you’re just calling to fuck me around, then don’t bother. I have better things to do, man.”
Yeah.
There went his pleasantness.
“First, I figured it was going to take that long. Second, cut the attitude. New York is a twelve hour drive, but I know a guy with a jet on standby, so I can be there even quicker to beat your ass.”
“You could try.”
“Knock it off, Joe.” Cory sighed. “It’s not concrete because it’s not on actual, official paper. But it’s rumors, and we all know what people say about those.”
“It all starts somewhere, and usually with a grain of truth.”
“Exactly. But, uh …”
“Spit it out.”
“The rumors—the stories, or whatever—they’re concerning.”
Okay, now he had Joe’s attention. Despite the way his head ached even more, he sat up on the bed, and kicked the comforter off his legs.
“Talk to me,” Joe mumbled.
“Seriously, were you drinking last night?”
“A little.”
“A little doesn’t make you sound like vomit is on the back of your tongue, Joe.”
“Yeah, well, are we talking about the info you found, or my hangover?”
“I’d like to talk about both.”
“Well,” Joe replied, “I’m only offering my conversation skills on one thing today. Sorry to burst your bubble.”
“You’re seriously an asshole.”
“And you don’t get to pick family, brother. You’re stuck with me—shitty luck for you, I guess.”
“Fine—the info,” Cory grumbled. “Liliana was definitely involved with Rich Earl, although I can’t say it was for very long.”
A hot ball grew in Joe’s gut.
Jealousy, likely.
Fuck.
Not the right time.
“What makes you think it wasn’t for very long?”
“He’s the son of a senator, and she’s the daughter of a high ranking made man. They both come from elite New York families, Joe.”
Cory offered all this like whatever he wasn’t saying should be obvious. It probably was, but Joe was just too tired and hungover to put it together.
“Stop fucking with me today,” Joe warned.
“The rags, Joe. Socialite rags, and shit. Had they been together for any real length of time, or shown up to enough public events together, their faces would have been splashed all over that shit. You know how they are here in Chicago. It’s even worse in New York.”
“Ah, yeah.”
“So, how long?”
“I wouldn’t say more than a couple of months, but maybe a little more.”
“Is this all you’ve found?”
“I wish,” Cory muttered under his breath. “From the people I know and talked to, they said they heard some bad shit went down between Liliana and Rich one night when they were heading to a private party.”
Joe blinked at the clock on the wall. “What kind of bad shit?”
“No one said for sure—nobody saw Liliana directly after, either. Cops were called, though, so a police report had to have been filed. Thing is, there’s nothing.”
Joe thought about the Chief of Police he was supposed to kill, and wondered if that was the reason why the man needed to be killed—had he done away with evidence?
“Are there rumors about what happened?” Joe dared to ask.
“A guy knows a guy in the Marcello organization. Low fuck, mind you, but still.”
“Cory, spit it out.”
His brother sighed again. “Said the guy beat the shit out of her in the back of a limo, Joe. He suggested more, but didn’t know for sure, and wasn’t willing to say considering who she is and all. From other people—kind of sounds like Rich was fucking obsessed with her. Saw her dance at a show or something, and that’s how he met her. Anyway, this is what I’ve got.”
“So, why do they want me to kill the father and the Chief of Police, and not the stupid fuck who hurt her?”
“Maybe they’re a means to an end,” Cory suggested.
Huh.
Joe hadn’t considered that.
“And I mean, if that were Mon,” Cory added, referring to their little sister, “and there were guys who helped to cover up what he did to her, you know we’d put every single one of them in the ground.”
“Yeah.”
To say the least.
“Thanks, man,” Joe said.
“You got it.”
After he had hung up with his brother, Joe made one more phone call. On the third ring, Lucian picked up.
“Lucian here.”
“I’ll put the first hit through tonight—the father, he’s gone.”
He didn’t explain why, or anything about his choice. He didn’t bother to question Lucian on the things he knew, either.
Joe didn’t want to ask Lucian.
He had someone else to talk to.
She should tell him.
It was Liliana’s story, not anyone else’s.
Joe was regretting putting off these hits for so long, and being as difficult as he had. No doubt, Lucian had looked at this situation the same way Joe was now seeing it. It wasn’t the Marcello’s man’s place to out his daughter’s personal business, but especially not something traumatic.
It took Lucian a second to speak, and his tone came out as flat as Joe’s when he said, “Good. I’ve been waiting for this to get started.”
Yeah, Joe bet.
“Watch the news, Lucian. It’ll look like an accident.”
Unfortunately.
But if he was going to do these hits on high-profile men, Joe was going to do it right. And safe.
They deserved worse.