I finish the entire thing before I remember that I’m in a mafia safehouse and that drugging the water would be a very mafia-like thing for someone to do.
I’ll have to be more vigilant from now on.
I turn on the bedside light and look around for a clock. When I come up empty, I slowly get to my feet to approach the window, which is hidden by a set of drawn curtains.
The material is thick and heavy in my hands as I pull the layers apart, capable of shielding away the brightest summer’s day.
But it’s dark when I look outside at the residential street of brownstone homes. I must still be in New York at the very least, but beyond that, I have no idea where I am.
I climb onto the deep windowsill to peer down below. There’s pavement a few floors below, but no one seems to move beneath the streetlights.
It must be late then, which makes sense, since my internal body clock has more or less adjusted to theCandelabra’snocturnal shift patterns.
Not that it matters anymore.
Knock, knock, knock.
He doesn’t wait for me to respond before opening the door.
But Rocco doesn’t enter. He simply leans against the doorframe, letting the moonlight wash over his tired features as he watches me cautiously.
Even now, with his suit jacket discarded and his sleeves rolled up to his elbows, he looks unfairly beautiful. The tattoos that climb up his arms tell a hundred stories that I will likely never learn, and his thick hair falls dangerously across his eyes.
“I saw your light was on.”
Was he just waiting up for me? Or does he have one of his goons stationed outside my door?
I instinctively go to bury my hands in my jacket, before it registers that I’m now wearing a set of cotton pajamas. I flush at the thought of Rocco undressing me.
As if reading my mind, he says, “My housekeeper, Donatella, thought you might be more comfortable in those. You’ll meet her tomorrow.”
“Okay.” I don’t move from my perch as I stare at him expectantly.
He clears his throat. “If you need anything while you’re here, she will be able to sort it out.”
“Aren’t you going to fuck me every night for three months and then hand me back to Claudio like a used-up plaything?”
My bitter words make the Mafia don flinch. “I’m sorry you had to hear all that. This is, unfortunately, a delicate situation, and I needed Lazzaro to give you up without too much protest.”
“Well, I’m glad your little secret mobster mission was a huge success.”
He stares at me. “You’re upset.”
“I’m tired. There’s a big fucking difference.”
“Then rest.” He straightens himself up and reaches for the door handle. “I’ll be away tomorrow, so you’ll have the house to yourself.”
“Wait, this is your house?”
The ghost of a smile creeps onto his lips. “I told you, Miss Cassandra. The protection I offer is notoriously unparalleled.”
9
ROCCO
“Itake it your little intervention with Claudio Lazzaro went well?”
Marco Chiavari fell into step at my side as I marched through the compound.
