Page 110 of Corrado

That said, he moved around her with the grace of a predator, opened the fridge, and pulled a carton of eggs out along with butter. That gave her an answer, too, even if it wasn’t the answer she wanted: he wasn’t going to tell her what made him feel guilty.

She didn’t mind.

Now, she could watch him cook.

“Why are you in New York?”

“Pretty sure,” he replied to Dare, “that I didn’t have the chip put in for you to track me just because.”

“No, it was for emergencies only, but—”

“This is not an emergency.”

“You didn’t pick up my last three calls, or reply to Cree’s texts,” Dare said quietly, “and yes, to me, that is warrant enough to check up on your tracker.”

All League members had them—or most. It was an option they were given simply because it was one thing to be forced into having a tracker put into your body, and it was another to willingly accept it. That was just about one of the only choices The League allowed the assassins to make for themselves.

Alessio understood the need for it. In their business, they made a lot of fucking enemies. A client one week could be a problem the next when a new client came in to take out the previous, or attempt it. Their business was dirty, no doubt about it.

Sometimes, in an attempt to get back at The League, the first thing someone tried to do was go after the members. The trackers at least gave Dare and Cree a chance to retrieve their man or woman, and hopefully, still alive, if they moved fast enough or got the team out. It didn’t happen often, but even once was too much.

Corrado opted for a tracker, too.

“I’m not on a job, right?” Alessio asked into the phone.

Dare sighed. “No.”

“Then, I can be wherever I need to be.”

“Answer my calls, and I won’t check in.”

Something akin to guilt stabbed Alessio in his chest. He should have picked up those calls, or at the very least, answer one of Cree’s many texts over the last week or so. It was entirely unusual for him to ignore both of them, never mind the fact he hadn’t been into The League’s complex since Corrado headed out two weeks ago for that … fucking favor.

“What’s going on?” Dare asked.

“Nothing.”

Lies.

Alessio wasn’t a liar.

He wasn’t.

He would be right now, though, for Corrado. Because if this favor for Andino Marcello was something that might get him in trouble with The League—not that Alessio knew that was the case for sure—then he wasn’t going to be the one who delivered the news.

“Then why are you in New York?”

Alessio gave the café he passed a quick glance, trying to figure out a way to end this conversation so he could get on with his plans, and the day. “I have something to handle.”

“Corrado?”

“Corrado is in Toronto, which you know.”

“That doesn’t change the fact—”

“Everything is fine.”

“Alessio,” Dare murmured, “I am not asking about things for The League right now. I know you think that’s all I care about most of the time, but you have been my priority from the time you were ten.”