Page 27 of Pretty Lies

“And isn’t that a good thing?”

“Daddy—”

Frankie raised his brow, quieting her instantly. “I’ve been fine to keep my nose out of your business where men are concerned, for the most part, but this one might be a problem, and I won’t apologize for doing what I need to do and pulling rank, Adella.”

Full first name.

He only used that when he was serious.

“You’re right,” her father added after a moment, “we don’t know that this … Luis … was the cause of the attack. It could have been related to business. We don’t know otherwise, either. Which brings me to an impasse of one way or another, we need to handle business differently until we do get it figured out. Because like I said, I’m not taking risks. Money still has to move, it’s the nature of the business, but it’s how it’ll be moving with you involved that might have to change for a bit.”

Della sat straighter, her anger simmering just below the surface. She didn’t like what her father implied.

“What does that mean?” she asked.

Sipping from his coffee as though he couldn’t see very well that Della was starting to get a little edgy at the turn this conversation had quickly taken, her father pointed at Jennika while the girl smeared her croissant with butter. “You’re to always work with your partner—we’ll circle back around to the business you were doing without your brother another time, don’t worry—and there’s nothing wrong with letting Jennika handle things on her own otherwise. She knows what she’s doing when it comes to collecting—”

“I know what I’m doing,” Della said, snapping the words. “I get that you’re worried and all, but I’ve been running with J since back when he was peddling shit from his backpack in high school. And what, the moment something bad happens as soon as he’s not around, now you say I can’t do what I’ve always done?”

“Except there’s a target on your back now—that’s why it was you that had a visitor in your house with a baseball bat and not someone else. They wanted the message to go through you. You’re not seeing that, are you?”

A black Mustang caught Della’s eye as it parked in front of the windows of the private dining section on the street outside. Never mind that the windows were tinted so darkly that she couldn’t even see the driver; whoever it was parked in a No Parking zone. She had a good mind to admire the shiny vehicle and appreciate its beauty, but the conversation at hand was more important, so she went back to her father.

If he noticed her distraction, he didn’t say.

“Della, I know you’re good at what you do—it’s too late to tell you to step back from it,” Frankie said, his tone quieter but not at all softer, “but that changes nothing. Until we understand why it was you, and we take care of it, the business will be done to my spec. Do you hear me?”

“Okay, so Jennika is with me. J can—”

“Your brother has his own business to handle with other people and for me elsewhere. I can’t pull him from that often enough to make me think it would be beneficial to both of you.”

Just what all was her brother doing in the Outfit?

She knew now wasn’t the time to ask.

“You, on the other hand, will also have someone to watch your back. When you’re doing business, if you’re going out to dinner … even if you just want to go to the gym. His job is to keep an eye on you for the time being. Call him a bodyguard, if you want. He’s certainly trained like one—unintentionally acts that way for a few other people in the Outfit, not that it matters.”

He?

Like a guy?

“Why—because I need a man to look after me?” she asked, not at all hiding the contempt in her tone at the idea. “Because someone breaking into my house to ambush me is a good indicator of how well I can protect myself as a woman, right? Like the same thing couldn’t have happened to you or J, huh?”

Even Jennika slowed her chewing at that statement. Beside her, J shifted in his seat and did his best to stare at anything but his sister and father. Frankie, however, kept his expression passive and nodded at something—or rather, someone—over her shoulder.

“So what if it is a man,” her father asked, “as long as he does his job and keeps you safe while we figure out the details here? And if you have anything further to say about your new friend, you can say it to him—Cory?”

Oh, God.

No.

Please, God, don’t let it be him.

A throat cleared behind her.

She knew that sound.

Heard his voice before he even spoke.