Page 24 of Captivated

“It means,” Dante said, “that we were hoping you might take on the task of guarding Liliana from … a respectable distance for the foreseeable future. At least, until we figure out how to handle what just happened, and whether or not it is related to other things. Should she see you, it won’t concern her all that much. She seemed to get on quite well with you, and that’s a good thing. Of course, we won’t want you mentioning to her that you are guarding her.”

To say the least.

Joe kept quiet.

Dante continued with, “She recognizes all of our other enforcers, and she doesn’t need to be getting anxious or worked up.”

“Why would—”

“Will you guard her, or not?” Lucian interrupted sharply.

Jesus Christ.

It wasn’t even a question for Joe.

He barely had to think about it at all.

“I will,” he said.

The relief between the two other men in the room was palpable, but Joe still didn’t understand why. There was a hell of a lot going unsaid in this arrangement, and he didn’t like that very goddamn much.

It didn’t seem like there was much he could do about it, either.

“And what about my marks?” Joe asked. “How long do you want me to fuck around before I move in on them?”

“Plans have to change sometimes,” Dante said.

“Clearly.”

The Marcello boss gave Joe a look that quieted him instantly. His smart mouth was probably going to get him killed one day, but frankly, there was nothing he could do about it. This was why he liked to stay quiet—it was everyone else who made him talk.

“We will have you take care of the marks when we are ready, and things are in place for it to happen properly,” Lucian said, “but for now, your mark is my daughter, and you need to keep her alive.”

Alrighty, then.

FOUR

THE DRIVER OPENED the back door of the SUV with a smile, and offered a hand to help Liliana down from the high vehicle. Still a little wary about why she was even there to begin with, she took his hand and let him help her down.

Besides, she had lived as a Marcello long enough to know that when someone was sent for her, it would be entirely useless for her to refuse. They were typically told to give no information, and answer no questions. Rather, they were directed to drop whoever off wherever they had been told, and nothing more.

It wasn’t often it happened.

Today, the man picked Liliana up after her training was finished at the studio. He had been waiting outside—a recognizable face as he was an enforcer who often followed her father around—and leaning against his car with a smile.

And with orders to take her to the Marcello mansion.

“Are you going to be taking me home after?” Liliana asked him.

The man nodded. “I’ll be waiting when you’re ready.”

“Great, thanks.”

Frankly, she was ready to go now, and she hadn’t even gotten inside the house yet. A full twelve hours of training was more than just physically taxing, it was emotionally exhausting. Her feet ached—they needed to be cared for, and soon. Her muscles needed a good soak, so they wouldn’t be terribly sore in the morning.

Given she had been brought here first, and not home to her apartment in upper Brooklyn, it was unlikely that she would get enough time to take care of her body, and sleep long enough not to be tired tomorrow.

Win some, lose some.