. . .
Dante Valentino
It had taken me a few minutes to get to where I was, a few feet away from her. And she had failed to notice a man standing so close to her for at least a minute.
The space was too open. She was an easy target, sitting in a gazebo in the middle of a pond.
"Miss Jenkins."
Her dark skin was lit up by the light of her laptop. A pair of glasses sat on her nose, and wide eyes stared up at me with horror I was too acquainted with.
"Mr. Valentino." She stood, arms wrapping around her torso. She wore a blue sweatshirt with shorts that hid nothing.
"I was hoping we could chat." I pocketed my hands. "If you are free, of course."
She glanced down at her laptop and in the reflection, I could see it showed nothing but a blank page. "It is midnight."
"That is not an answer."
"Okay," she said and sat down. "Let's talk."
I stared at her. The assassin the Marchetti family had sent was hiding in the warehouse across the street. I knew he wouldn't shoot with me here. There was a red dot on her temple.
Clueless. Fucking clueless.
"Let's talk inside," I said. "It will rain soon."
She looked skeptical but then nodded, probably some shred of self-preservation was left in her. I followed her inside. She led me to the office which had once belonged to her father. She paused by the door as I entered.
I sat on the chair beside the window and she sat down in front of me, across the table, and folded her naked legs under her. Her hair was down in curls which looked softer than everything. Her eyes held fear as well as curiosity.
"Miss Jenkins," I said. "Do you realize that your father's family wants to kill you and can, pretty easily, get what they want?"
"Are you saying I'm an easy target?"
You just willingly walked inside a small office with a Capo.
But my intention was not to harm - at least not in a way she'd hate.
"Yes," I said. "That is exactly what I am saying. Any maid can smother you in your sleep. Anyone can break in and kill you, as the guards have left. Anyone could have killed you in that gazebo. This is Sicily and a very dangerous family wants to kill you. You're the least safe person in Italy."
"Are you here to scare me?"
"I am here to offer protection."
She leaned forward, putting her elbows on her knees. "Aren't you the capo? Can't you just say 'no' to them?"
"Me defending a bastard without reason would not look well," I said.
"Then why are you offering protection?"
"It will be a transaction," I said. "You give me something, I give you protection in return."
Her eyes narrowed just slightly. "What do you want from me?"
"You in my house," I said.
She sat back in her chair. "No."
I stood. "Very well." I buttoned my suit, watching her stare at my inked hands. Interesting.
"The assassin across the street will shoot as soon as my car leaves. I will remove the bodyguard I sent last night to keep you safe from the man who was about to stab you in your sleep."
"You-You're bluffing."
I looked at the red dot on her forehead. At the hint of blue glitter on her cheeks, I had not noticed before.
"I don't bluff, or lie, Blue," I said. "I can't offer your protection if I do not have any connection with you. I can't defend a bastard, but I can defend my woman."
She rubbed her slim fingers on her forehead. "But- I'm leaving as soon as the mansion is sold. I do not intend to stay here for long. Can't you...can't you keep the Marchetti off my back for a week or two?"
"That is not possible," I said. "Should I leave, Blue?"
"They'll kill me if you do."
"Come with me, then. I'll help you sell the mansion."
"What do you want to do...to me?" She asked. "I know your intentions are not pure."
I shrugged. "I just want a beautiful woman in my house."
"And?"
"In my bed."
"I am not fucking you for money."
"Then stop eyeing me like you want me to bend you over your dead father's desk and fuck you till the assassin knows who you belong to."
Her thighs pressed, followed by a stubborn shake of her head. "I am not eyeing you."
"I am leaving in ten minutes," I said. "I will be in the living room. If you intend to survive the night, and the upcoming days, come with me."
Her eyes lowered to her hands. Had she not expected to be executed as soon as she stepped a foot in Italy? She could not possibly be that stupid. Perhaps she had thought the Marchetti family had a shred of kindness in them.
Or, she thought she was ready to face death. But death is only real when you face it.
At the face of it, she was crumbling. I saw the shaking hands, the Jerky movements.
I left her with her thoughts, knowing no other words would go through her. She had entered the mafia headfirst and I knew the Marchetti family would not let her leave the Italian soil.
Alive, that is.
And if she became mine...
She was never leaving.
No way out for you, little Blue.
. . .
(4/6)
