Patting his gun in his belt, just to make sure it hadn’t magically disappeared, Ardan stepped inside. He could get one of his spare holsters from the rental car later. Right now, he had a hitman to deal with.
Chapter Six
Gabriel stared at the screen in front of him, scrolling down the news article about the latest Ricci trial. The idiot agreed to testify against the Giordanos, or at least that’s what it said. If that was true, even if it wasn’t, he wouldn’t last long. Gabriel knew what kind of people the Giordanos were, and they were as vicious as the Follieros and Sloan Killough. They didn’t take too kindly to rats, especially the kind who used to work for them.
Gabriel whistled in surprise at the article just as Ardan settled into the seat across from him. He’d noticed Ardan get out of the Uber and search for him, so it wasn’t a shock to see him there, and neither was the gun that Gabriel knew was pointed at him below the table. This kind of situation was why he had his iPad instead of his laptop, in case he needed to move fast.
“If you’re going to point it at me, at least use it.” Gabriel set his iPad on the tabletop and smiled, linking his fingers in front of him and resting his chin on his hands. “If not, put it away, Ardan.”
“What happened to calling me Murphy?”
“Sex changes that, don’t you think?”
“No.” Ardan’s shoulder twitched and his arm moved. He shuffled forward in the seat and put the gun back into his belt so fluidly no one but Gabriel noticed.
It was odd to see him in a T-shirt and jeans, nothing like the Ardan that Gabriel was used to seeing. He looked more relaxed, but Gabriel knew he was anything but. Ardan was always on high alert, even when he was sleeping. Gabriel had to take extra care leaving the bed that morning and he’d been ready to defend himself if the other man came at him. It never happened, though.
“How about you save me the trouble and tell me where you’re heading next?” Ardan said calmly, grabbing the menu from between them and opening it. A waitress came toward them, but Gabriel waved his hand at her to tell her they’d need a few more minutes. He’d already had three coffees, but he was an addict when it came to caffeine. He needed to be. Gabriel could never sleep for long periods of time.
“What fun would that be if I told you?” Gabriel sent him a charming smile.
Ardan slammed the menu closed and placed it flat against the table, palm pressed against it. “Let’s end this game of cat and mouse. It’s becoming boring.”
“Oh, I’m having lots of fun.” He grabbed his mug and raised it to his mouth, taking a sip of his coffee.
Ardan stared at him with those dark eyes of his, almost studying Gabriel as though he was a bug, before his gaze dipped to the screen of the iPad. Gabriel noticed him reading it upside down.
“Ricci. Mario Ricci, right? He was Angelo Giordano’s right-hand man out in Chicago.”
Gabriel nodded. “Looks like he’s ratting himself out.”
“Giordano doesn’t seem like the type of person who’d allow that.”
“He’s not. I give Ricci until the end of the week and he’ll be dead. Even in WITSEC, Giordano has contacts.” Gabriel hit the Power button, shutting off the screen.
Ardan pressed his lips together. “Just because we fucked doesn’t mean I’m not going to kill you, Mancini.”
“I don’t want you to stop trying. I’m enjoying the chase.” Gabriel finished off the last sip of his coffee before he pulled his wallet from his suit jacket. Tugging out a fifty, he threw it on the table to cover his drinks and a tip before he grabbed his iPad and stood.
Ardan didn’t move, watching Gabriel carefully.
“I’ll see you soon?” Gabriel teased.
Ardan exhaled deeply. “You won’t see me coming.”
“Oh,tesoro, I’ve seen youcomeand it’s glorious.”
The twisted anger on Ardan’s face was beautiful and excitement danced in Gabriel as he winked a goodbye and left the café. He didn’t expect Ardan to follow him, not yet, so he tugged out his burner phone and dumped it in a trash can as he headed for a taxi.
The taxi took him to the airport, where he booked a flight with one of his many IDs. Being officially dead meant Gabriel had to be a lot of different people at the same time. He needed to remember who he was pretending to be, and forget who he really was. Gabriel Mancini wasn’t a real man, but rather another persona he’d created to hide who he'd been born as. It was a life he had no choice in living anymore.
New Gothenburg hadn’t changed since the last time Gabriel visited and it was still pretty for a small city in the great state of New York. It didn’t matter where Gabriel drove his rental car, he always passed a biker. Places like Pleasant Beach and New Gothenburg were safe to people like Gabriel for this reason. The bikers had underground connections and most of the cops knew who to leave alone. Even if they did come after the bikers, it was hard to get anything to stick. Along with motorcycle clubs came other businesses owned and operated by these men and women, from casinos to bars to whorehouses. That’s how they controlled powerful men in this world—gambling, alcohol, and sex.
Gabriel had been here a few times before, and he’d had his run-ins with the Harlots. They weren’t terrible women, but he knew well enough to keep away from them, even if they did own half the Courtesan, a hotel that acted as a mirror for the local whorehouse in town.
The Madam who run it, Natalia Winters, was as scary as any biker, though. As diplomatic as she was, Kirby had told Gabriel about her steel balls more than once. There’d been a few men who’d gone missing from the Courtesan after they raised their hands to her whores, including one of Sloan Killough’s.
Everything about this hotel sang with elegance, from the stone pillars to the marble floors with swirls of gold. Beige couches dotted the foyer and some were already commandeered by men who looked like they were made of money, the kind who’d hire Gabriel to take someone out.
