Book three of the only series
They gave her one mission. They told her to find the Chicago mob Capo and get revenge. So they sent her away. She had a plan. A mindset. Goals she needed to reach.
Until she met his son.
He was supposed to be the en...
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I let the water fall down my skin. The tile beneath my feet turned a light shade of pink from the leftover blood on me. The steam that fogged around my bathroom made it easier to breathe in here, like the humidity was cleansing out Alessio and that stupid confession I made to him.
He didn't even know exactly what I meant. Why exactly I couldn't give him more. In his head, he thinks I have commitment issues. Which is also, still true. Because why would I commit something to a made man? A future Capo? Let alone, the Capo of the Chicago mob?
I promised myself I'd get out. And I wouldn't be shackled down by another man with too much power.
I'd leave the country most likely, move somewhere far away. And hope that no one would track me.
That was the plan.
That is the plan.
I shut the water off, opening my shower curtain. I grabbed my towel and wrapped my body, stepping out. I stayed still, not moving an inch because I could hear Alessio's deep voice slip through the cracks of my bathroom door. The walls were thin, too thin. The thin layer of wood separating the living room to my bedroom and bathroom did nothing to counsel his quiet conversation.
He wasn't going to leave, and there was absolutely nothing I could do about it unless I screamed stranger danger, and even if I did that. Not a single man on my floor would care. No one ever cared. Screaming only wasted wanted breaths for later.
"Well if he wanted to kill anyone he would've done it sooner rather than walk around and risk getting caught."
It was quiet while he listened to whoever was on the other end of his phone.
"No, I didn't ask her and it doesn't matter. I trust her."
I clutched the towel tighter around my body, hearing those words come out his mouth so gently sent a painful ache through me. It was the way he sounded so sure of himself, like there was no reason to doubt me.
I trust her.
I quickly changed, hearing his conversation die down until I knew he hung up. I put on my flimsy sleep shorts and a black t-shirt. My hair was wet and I tried to wring out as much water as I could, wasting time before I walked out to my living room. I picked up my phone from my bathroom counter. It would be my first time opening up my messages from the whole night.
Over one hundred missed calls, and unread text messages from one person.
One fucking person.
Unknown number: How could you let that happen, Isla?
Unknown Number: Did it feel good watching one of our brothers die?
Unknown Number: Answer the fucking phone, Isla. Or I'll send someone to go slit your throat right now.
