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Luckily, Vito seemed to be more amused than annoyed by the vapid idiot in front of him, probably because she had good cleavage, which he kept eyeing up.
“Bring a cake too,” he told the server. “Put candles on it.”
“Aw, that’s sweet of you, sir. The folks back home said that New Yorkers weren’t so friendly, but everyone’s been real good to us so far.”
“A cake?” the poor girl asked. “I’m not sure we have?—”
“Bring a cake,” he repeated, then turned to Alonzo. “Is she new?”
“Who the fuck knows?” he muttered.
One valuable snippet of information gained: the Cavallaros weren’t overly familiar with their waitstaff, and that was a fact I could turn to my advantage if the need arose.
There must have been a late-night bakery nearby because a three-tier chocolate cake appeared before Kaylin returned to the stage, and the whole damn audience applauded when Nico blew out the candles, Vito included. If it weren’t for the fact that he exploited women, defrauded people out of millions, and terrorised New York, I might even have liked the guy.
The lights dimmed again, and a handful of people who’d been sitting at the bar returned to their seats. Nico had only eaten half his slice of cake, so I picked up a fork and finished it off. Why waste a good dessert?
My phone buzzed. My actual husband was asking for an update.
Black
Managed to start a war with the Mob yet?
Me
The night is still young.
Black
Will further services be needed?
Me
Ask me again in half an hour.
Which was the same amount of time we’d allowed Kaylin to consider her future. What would she decide? Would she risk everything and ask Nico for help? Or stick with the status quo? There was also a third possibility: that she’d ask for a rain check.
I rested my head on Nico’s shoulder and waited.
20
KAYLIN
Breathe.
Just breathe.
My pulse was racing, and my heart threatened to hammer its way through my ribcage. Nico was here. Here! Not only in New York but at the Starlight Lounge, and now he realised what I’d become. He’d seen through the flashy facade to the wretched woman beneath.
He understood how stupid I’d been.
Every night, I lay awake, regretting my poor life choices and wishing I was brave enough to run again. Wishing I was smart enough not to get caught this time. But even as I imagined holding my son tight against me, stealing down the stairs, and vanishing into the night, I knew I never would.
Last time, a man had died, and now I was a wanted woman. Cesare had shown me the news stories, the ones that said there was a warrant out for my arrest. Nobody would believe I’d been in a different vehicle, he said. It was my Toyota that had done the damage. I’d been the one staying at the motel. Alonzo, who had been driving, was one of my husband’s brothers, and the family’s code of loyalty meant he’d rather go to the grave than talk.
But now Nico was here, and that changed everything. Was his presence an accident? He’d dropped by to watch the show, only to witness my spectacular fall from grace? Or had he come to see me on purpose? To help? He had resources that I could only dream of, and I was eighty percent sure he wasn’t a psycho. Once, that percentage would have been higher, but I didn’t trust my own judgment anymore. Not after my colossal mistake with Cesare.
He’d been so kind at first. So sweet. I’d been serving drinks at his cousin’s wedding when several of the guests began fighting, and long story short, I’d ended up with a black eye and a liberal coating of red wine. Cesare had been the one to find me fresh clothes and an ice pack.
