We stare at each other for what feels like an age.
Anyone else.Anyone else.
If Max had come to me with this, if Dante had. Hell, if that “retired” bastard Rocco Moretti had deigned to visit with this news, I would have cracked open the fucking champagne.
Why did it have to be Mia?
“You just happen to get contract work with the Cartel kingpin’s daughter?”
“Yes.”
“It’s obviously a trap,” I say, even though it doesn’t quite make sense. Because nobody knows that Mia is my wife. Mia isn’t known to be affiliated withanyone.
Mia seems prepared for this line of questioning, though. “That’s what I thought, but this girl…Leon, she’s so green. She barely has any idea what she’s doing aside from the fact she needs help. Amos doesn’t know that she’s hiring me.”
I ignore the way my name on her lips makes my heart clench. “Okay, so we let her hire someone else. You send your apologies and your recommendation. My second is new enough to New York. They won’t look twice at him.”
“That won’t work,” she protests. “She needs a woman, specifically. Someone who won’t stand out at her side during a party. Besides, I’ve already made contact and connection. She trusts me.”
“Then we get another woman to do it,” I counter.
This makes Mia laugh sharply. “Who? Isabella? The Cartel has a target on her back almost as big as yours! There isn’t anyone else, not on this short notice.”
I wish she wasn’t right. God. I wish there was someone else.
“I’m not asking for your permission,” she continues. “The party is on Saturday. I’m going to go. If you want to use this opportunity to your advantage, now is your chance to brief me on what you need.”
Positive IDs on Amos’ inner circle. Car registration numbers. Politicians and high society members with personal invitations. Hell, even alookinto the man’s office would at least confirm our theory that the man operates offline.
As a don, there’s no way I can miss out on this. As a husband…
“You said you needed help?” I say, a safer topic.
This, inexplicably, makes her look away. There’s a pretty little flush on her cheeks. “My…er…equipment is a little dated. I need to upgrade a few things, but I’m sort of out of work at the moment.”
I blink at her, suddenly feeling quite blindsided. She’s asking formoney.My wife is worried about her finances. I would laugh if the whole thing wasn’t entirely ridiculous.
My wallet is out a second later, and I hand her my black card without hesitation. “I should have given you one sooner.”
“I don’t need your charity.” She stares at the card as if it somehow offends her. “I thought you might give me a forward for the information I manage to acquire at the party.”
I reach for her hand and place the card in her palm, ignoring the way something in my soul sings at the physical contact. “I’m not paying my wife a ‘forward’. This is your money now.”
Very hesitantly, Mia curls her fingers around the card, barely brushing my hand as she does so. Her throat bobs as she swallows hard.
“Okay. What do you need?”
9
MIA
Idescend the staircase of the brownstone on Saturday evening, still attaching a gold hoop to my ear. Late, late, late.
Leon messaged me to say my equipment had arrived this morning, but I’d lost the day compiling as much information as I could on the Rubios. By the time I’d shown up at the door, I was already behind schedule.
Carmen had texted me the address of her apartment so we could ride in together. It was halfway across town, and I had exactly eighteen minutes to get there.
“The camera took forever to charge,” I say to the back of Leon’s head—the man has apparently been pacing since I arrived. “I’ll keep it plugged in on my way over and turn it on when I arrive.”
