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But now… now after everything, I can’t trust him anymore. And what’s a relationship at all if it isn’t built on trust?
“He says come on over. Meet him at the back gate, and he’ll get us in.”
“Excellent.” I nod. We’re one step closer.
We pull up to the biggest estate I’ve ever seen, bigger even than Descamps. This one strangely doesn’t have a security gate, though.
“Why no security gate?” I ask, curious about this one detail.
“They have dogs and snipers,” Cain explains. “And they trust their reputation. They’ve got a security team that rivals any on the East Coast.”
I whistle. “Damn.”
“Yeah.”
“So where’s your guy, Skylar?”
We drive slowly, our tires gliding over the black paved driveway with ease. She points to a large mansion up on a hill. “There.”
A tall, good-looking guy with short black hair stands, wearing nothing but a T-shirt and jeans against the bitter cold wind. He looks like he could be a throwback to the James Dean era, his dark hair falling over his forehead giving him a bad boy vibe. He scowls when he sees me and Cain, his eyes narrowing.
“You did tell him we were coming, right?”
“Welllll,” Sky says with an apologetic shrug. “I mean, I told him I was.”
“Sky,” I groan.
Cain parks the truck and exhales. “Violet, you stay here. I’ll go with Sky and tell you when to come.”
“Fuck. Off.” I slide over and get out of the truck behind Skylar. She giggles softly to herself, and Cain slams the truck door so hard I’m surprised the windshield doesn’t break. But I don’t work for him. I don’t take orders from him. I did for a time because we liked it that way. Because I told him I was his. But now… now he’s lost that privilege.
“Mario Rossi,” Sky says under her breath, “is loyal to the core. Keep that in mind. Say nice things about his family.”
I see the dark eyes of his dogs lurking behind him and pat my pocket reassuringly. These treats are going to come in handy.
“Skylar.” His voice hasn’t ripened with age, and I’d guess he’s probably a junior or so in college. Early twenties, though men in organized crime like this likely age a lot quicker than your run-of-the-mill boy. “You didn’t tell me you were bringing company.”
“Missed you, too, Mario,” she says with a charming grin. “This is my brother Cain and…” she pauses, unsure of what to call me. “His co-worker Violet.”
Ouch.
Mario doesn’t respond.
“They need to talk with your dad or brother.” Violet says unassumingly. “Please?”
“They’re packing, heading to Tuscany. They don’t want company right now.”
Skylar sidles up to him and kisses his cheek. He rests his hand on her hip, and Cain’s whole body tightens.
I don’t care I don’t care I don’t care.
Mario grunts, whispers something in Skylar’s ear, and she giggles like a little girl. God.
She whispers back to him. “Alright,” he says with a nod. “Five minutes. I’ll bring you in, make sure you don’t get shot, then you’re out of here, but all I’m giving you is five minutes.”
“That’s all we’ll need,” I assure him.
Storm clouds roll in overhead, as the large front door opens. A pretty woman, probably old enough to be my mother, stands on the front step. Her figure’s impeccable, and her clothes are high-end. She wears torn jeans, a black fitted top, and boots to her knees, but it’s the calculating look of charm she gives me I notice most of all.
“Skylar! How lovely to see you, my sweet. Come, come in, Skylar.”
Skylar trots up the steps and kisses the woman on each cheek.
“Mama, this is Skylar’s brother Cain and his associate, Violet. This is my mother, Tosca. They need to talk to Dad or Romeo.”
The woman escorts us in. “Ah, of course. Come in,” she says warmly. “My husband’s busy preparing for our trip this afternoon, but my son should be here. Please, make yourself at home.”
Four armed guards in suits stand nearby, their faces stoic and unmoving. One steps to the front.
“Weapons, please.”
Cain and I don’t balk, but hand him our guns without question. I don’t move, hoping they don’t notice the knife sheath. I give Cain a quick look and he shakes his head so casually, one might not notice. I don’t take out my knives.
“Is that all?” he asks pleasantly, though his posture tells me this man knows how to shoot a gun and he isn’t afraid to use it.
I nod. Probably not a good idea to lie, but it’s a worse idea to go into the Rossi family home unarmed.
Though they seem friendly and their house is gorgeous, there’s something I can’t quite put my finger on in the air.
Skylar and Mario are gone. “Where’d Sky go?” I ask Cain.
His lips thin, but Tosca Rossi’s all charm. “Ah, they went off a bit by themselves. Come, have a seat. Can I get you a drink, Mr. Master?”
