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“It’s called making a point. Go away.”
“There’s trouble here, and everything went down too easily for us getting you and Blake back.”
Her back is ramrod straight. “I don’t want to relive the past, so leave it.”
“Mia.” I take in a deep breath and come up to her, but this time, I don’t touch. No matter how much I might want to. “It doesn’t take much to know you’ve got shit to deal with. I’ve got shit to deal with too. And if anyone’s going to come after us, they’re going to go for, say, someone that refuses protection. So, I need to be here. Make my presence known. Draw them out, but to me, not to you.”
“I’m not a child.”
“Stop acting like one.”
“Only if you stop being the bully.”
“Sweetness, you haven’t seen me bully anyone yet.”
She comes around to me, and I’m reminded of a Valkyrie. One that smells sweet and is soft and feminine, and oh, so touchable.
The thing is, there’s something going on here. The note tells me that. But Mia’s not going to play if I push in that way. I need a different path.
The De Luca crime family has enemies. It’s the name of the game when it comes to the underworld. But games have rules and wars are played out low to the ground, cold, in measured pieces.
When the Gheata family worked with my fucking parents and their late lawyer in trying to destroy my sweet sister and take her inheritance, they vastly overstepped.
I know it’s personal. I know they’re trying to get us riled to make the first real move in a war. We’ve decimated so much of that family now, but there’s danger. There are other players, and Mia is vulnerable. The club.
This is MC territory, but Mia is a De Luca. And that paints her as a target. Another man wants her to align the families. The move there hasn’t been made because Mia isn’t like most mafia women. Mia does what she wants, when she wants, and she’s not letting anyone clip her wings.
“I get it, Mia,” I say, “I do. You’ve fought to get here, and you’re strong. But someone is trying to target Hellfire Dancers.”
Her gaze doesn’t meet mine, and I know I’m onto something. She isn’t surprised at all.
“So, I need to be here to draw them out. You get how all this shit is played.”
She’s silent for a long time, but finally nods and looks at me. “I do, Christian. I know exactly how it’s all played. I grew up in that world. Even when they wrapped me in cotton wool and tried to prepare me for a life of being protected behind whatever barricades or strong man I knew.”
I frown and go to say something, but she holds up a hand.
“I knew it wasn’t ever a guarantee for safety. I knew that. When my mom was killed, I understood that. When Reaper and Angel’s sister was murdered, I got it. When I was kidnapped, beaten, and carved, I really got it. And this last time, well . . .” She laughs and shakes her head, and I want to take hold of her.
I don’t move.
“Well,” she says, “let’s say that message was more than received. No one can do anything but keep me locked up, and I don’t choose to live my life like that. So, find another war, another turf, another woman to test your rusty armor on. I’m not interested.”
“Fine, I won’t protect you.” It’s a lie, and we both know it. “But I need to be here.”
“To take care of your business that has nothing to do with me?”
“This place might be MC property, but it’s also a De Luca business interest,” I smile coldly, “so you’re just collateral.”
“Good to know.” She looks like she’s going to say something else, but then she smiles back.
Just as cold.
It turns me on even more.
And pisses me the fuck off.
She turns to her desk and does something underneath. She doesn’t bother trying to hide whatever she’s doing, like she’s feeling underneath it.
