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“Is that how you started working for the mafia?” she asked. I knew she was trying hard to keep the judgment out of her voice. “You met somebody in prison?”
“As a matter of fact, my cellmate is the guy I work for now.” I smiled wryly. “The guy you took a shot at.”
Rachel winced, then glanced down at the diamond ring on her finger. “Um… is that going to be a problem?”
I actually wasn’t sure how Dario would react… although I was pretty damn sure how his brothers would.
“I don’t know,” I said. “We’ll cross that bridge when we come to it.”
“Can’t you just quit?”
“I don’t want to quit.”
She stared at me. “Are you serious?”
“They’re my family now.”
Rachel’s eyes nearly bugged out of her head.
“They’re not what you think,” I said. “At least, not the guys I work for. They’re different.”
“Is that so,” she said sardonically. Now she was definitely letting judgment creep into her voice.
It pissed me off me. “You actually worked for one of the worst assholes in the Cosa Nostra when you accepted that job.”
“I told you, I didn’t know,” she snapped. Then she closed her eyes in pain. “Can we just – not? Everything was so perfect – please – ”
That last ‘please’ sounded like she was begging me.
I pulled her closer to me. She didn’t resist.
“I’m sorry,” I said.
“I’m sorry, too,” she murmured as she held onto me. “A lot of bad shit happened since you left. I’m not in any position to be throwing stones.”
“You’re really out of MI6?”
“Yeah.”
I could hear in her voice that there was a lot of pain behind that answer.
“Well,” I said, trying to find the silver lining, “the good thing about you being out is there don’t have to be any more secrets.”
“What secrets? Like where I live?”
“No. I was working for MI6 when I was busted in Italy.”
Her reaction was not what I expected.
She jerked away from me like I was a scalding hot stove.
“WHAT?!” she shrieked.
“Rachel – ” I said, trying to calm her down.
“That’s a LIE!” she cried out, her eyes wild with panic. “That can’t be true!”
“It is!” I insisted. “Alistair hired me!”
