I’ve never seen you like this over a girl, bro,” says Angelo. He sits in the passenger seat of my car. Carlito and Luca Bianchi are in the backseat. Luca is like a parasite, forced on us by the bosses because they want someone they trust keeping an eye on us. If only they knew how spineless Luca was, they probably wouldn’t bother.

We’re parked outside an Italian restaurant downtown. The owner owes the bosses protection money, and they want me to put the squeeze on him.

“Like this? What the fuck am I like?” I ask Angelo.

He grins. “Shit man, you turned down that perfect pair of tits that tried to get with you at Benito’s earlier, for one.”

I wave him off. “She looked like a bitch.”

“That’s never stopped you before.”

“If you’re done with the girl talk, I have to go in there and scare the shit out of this deadbeat.”

Angelo punches me on the shoulder. “It’s a good look on you is all I’m saying. I like seeing you happy for once.”

“Yeah, yeah,” I say, getting out of the car and patting my side, feeling the reassuring weight of my piece strapped beneath my arm, inside my suit jacket.

“Hey, Leo,” says Luca. “The bosses wanted me to remind you to get the interest he owes, too.”

I ignore Luca, slamming my door and heading toward the restaurant’s front door. Get the interest? Does he really think I need to be reminded?

The restaurant is pretty deserted, but a guy in a dress shirt undone enough to show his flabby, hairy chest comes out to greet me. I can tell by the way his eyes dart around the room that he knows exactly why I’m here.

“Good afternoon, sir. What can I do for you?”

“Let’s talk somewhere private,” I say.

He smiles shakily. “We can sit at the bar.”

“More private,” I say.

He swallows. “Yeah. Okay, we could talk in the back.”

He leads me past concerned looking servers to the back of the restaurant and gestures at the ground in front of the dishwasher. I motion for him to follow me into the walk-in freezer. He follows me hesitantly. Once we’re inside, I hit the lock on the inside of the fridge. I learned a long time ago that intimidation is a lot like sex. It’s more about the foreplay than the actual act. People are most likely to talk before I’ve ever touched them, and it’s a hell of a lot less messy that way.

I cross my arms, locking my eyes on him.

He licks his lips. “I’ll get Marco his money. I just need a few days.”

I hook my thumb in my jacket and pull it back so he can see the pistol holstered on my side.

He looks at the pistol, eyes widening. “I can have it tomorrow.”

“With interest,” I say.

“Interest? I’m already—”

I silence him by taking a single step forward.

“How much interest?” he asks.

“Why don’t you tell me how much interest you think you should pay for being late?”

He smiles nervously. “Five percent?”

I say nothing, staring down at him.

“Seven percent?”

“These are pretty thick walls in here,” I say. “Does much sound get through?”

“Thirty percent,” he says quickly.

I smile, clapping him on the shoulder. “Glad we could come to an agreement.” I leave him slumped in the walk-in, probably counting his blessings. I don’t enjoy scaring the shit out of people, especially when the “protection” they are paying for is a total scam. It’s the same assholes collecting money from them who will be coming by to break their legs if they don’t pay. Just like the only bully on the playground charging a kid three bucks a day to make sure no one takes his lunch money. But hey, the weak get fed on by the strong. If they don’t like it, they can get the fuck out of town for all I care.

When I get back in the restaurant lobby, I see the few people in the restaurant crowded around the windows. Shouting from outside draws my eye. All the doors to my car are open. Angelo and Carlito are sprinting past the restaurant toward a guy in a tracksuit who is running for his life.

Shit.

I shove past a guy, making him drop his beer glass. I’m out the door and turning the corner before I even hear it hit the ground and shatter. They are running as fast as they can down the sidewalk, pushing past people who get in their way, but I’m gaining on them. Angelo catches the guy in the track suit and horse-collars him, whipping him backwards so he slams on the pavement. Carlito rushes in, kicking the guy hard in the ribs. The smart onlookers are running and the stupid ones are staring, getting their phones out.

I take a look at the guy on the ground and realize it’s Nico Moretti. Shit. Angelo is going to start a fucking war with that temper of his, and I’m going to get tossed in the middle of it. I move from bystander to bystander, snatching their phones and slamming them into the ground where they shatter. It only takes three or four people before the rest of the onlookers start to back away and hide their phones.

Maybe it’s the tattoos, something in my eye, or maybe it’s just the gun I’m making sure everybody sees, but no one questions me. I still hear the meaty thuds of Angelo and Carlito going to town on this guy as I clear the last of the crowd.

“Hey you dumb shits, drag him in here if you’re going to rough him up. Jesus Christ.”

Angelo looks up at me, sweeping a lock of hair from his sweating forehead. “You want in on this?”

Carlito pauses, too, chest heaving with exhaustion. “It’s because of these fuckers you got thrown in the can. Give it to him, Leo.”

I ignore them, reaching down to grab the gasping and bleeding Moretti on the ground and drag him by the jacket into the nearby alley. I don’t stop until we’re mostly out of sight and behind a dumpster.

“Technically, it was your hot fucking temper that got me thrown in jail, Angelo. The Morettis didn’t really do shit to me.”

Angelo glares at me. He steps toward me, still breathless from beating up Nico. He’s at least half a foot shorter than me, and not nearly as wide in the shoulders. I step closer until my chest presses against his.

“You want to step to me?” I say. My voice is low and sharp as a knife. “I’d kill for you, but if you want to get tough with me, I’ll set you straight real fucking fast.”

Angelo’s eyes burn with anger, but he wipes his nose with his knuckles and turns to Nico, who is laughing through his bloody mouth.

“Sounds like I just got my ass kicked by the bitch of the family,” says Nico.

I nearly groan. Nico doesn’t realize how hot-tempered Angelo is, but I see it coming before it even happens. Nico walks toward him with a deadly purpose. He lifts his knee above the waist and stomps on Nico’s head as hard as he can. I close my eyes and sigh when I hear the sound. I don’t even need to look to know that Angelo just killed Nico. He killed a made guy in one of the biggest crime families in the city, and he just put blood-red targets on all of our backs.

I hang up the phone, seething. The Bianchis are already catching heat from the Morettis about Nico’s murder, and the murder coming so soon after I got out of prison has everyone pointing fingers at me. I’d never let anything happen to my little brother, but I sure as hell am tired of cleaning up after him. He had to go dragging me back into his shitstorm when I haven’t even been out of prison a month?

I slam my hand against the dashboard. I was considering trying to find a way to go clean once I got out, maybe get out of this whole lifestyle and find something legit. I’m not sure what I’d do, maybe start my own business. I used to love flying remote controlled airplanes when I was a kid and I’d dream about flying the real thing. Maybe I could find some kinda work that would let me do that. Either way, none of that matters now. I’m going to have a metric ton of heat on my ass for the foreseeable future, and the only way I can keep my brother safe and keep my ass out of jail and out of the ground is by keeping my ear to the crime world. Getting out now would be a death sentence.

I’m parked outside the place Julia wanted to meet for our “first” date. I just took her to dinner two days ago, but it feels like it’s been ages. I see her waiting outside the restaurant already. She’s wearing a blue dress that hugs every curve of her body. Her black hair is pulled back in a bun. I smirk a little when I think how perfect a handhold it would make while she sucked my cock.

She glances at her phone and then looks around the parking lot hopefully. I’d be doing her a favor if I left. I’m no good for her. Now with all this Moretti shit, I don’t even know if it’s safe for her to be around me. What if they come after me while I’m spending time with her? Shit. I could live with the risk if it was anyone else, but the thought of her getting hurt makes me sick. The worst part is I know I’m going to go to her anyway. I want her too much to do what’s right. I’m going to go to her, eat dinner with her, and then I’m going to eat her out until she begs for my cock.

I’m about to get out of the car when I notice a white Cadillac cruising slowly through the parking lot. The guy driving is wearing shades and a suit. The guy in the passenger seat has hard eyes. The eyes of a killer.

Fuck.

Reality washes over me like a cold bucket of water. It’s over. I meet a woman like no one I’ve ever been with—smart, sexy as hell, and not afraid to test me—and now I have to decide between being with her and keeping her safe.

I take one more look at Julia, waiting for me outside the restaurant. Maybe my last look. Those guys in the car have to be Morettis. They are looking for me, and they found out where I was going without me knowing. The only way I can keep Julia safe now is to leave. I’m going to have to wipe every trace of myself from her life, every last piece. I’ll change my number, move out of the city, and do whatever it takes to get this shit settled. When I’ve done that, maybe then I can come looking for her.

If she still wants to be found.