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My finger squeezed the trigger.
Pop!
I missed!
I aimed again.
Before I could shoot again, Papà ran into the yard and yelled at me. “It’s okay, Anni! This is Lorenzo Marchiano.” Papà hurried over to me and snatched the gun from my hold, just as some soldiers ran into the yard. “It’s fine,” he called to the soldiers. “It’s just a misunderstanding. Everyone’s just got a bit carried away.”
I pulled the head off my costume. “Marchiano?” I repeated slowly.
I had never met the man; however, of course, I had heard of him. He was an Underboss in the Fratellanza. And, as a Marchiano, he was now one of our allies—not an enemy as I’d first thought when he’d burst into the backyard and aimed his revolver at me.
Uh-oh. I was going to have to change my name, move to Costa Rica, and fake my own death for good measure.
“I didn’t know who he was,” I said quickly.
Up behind my papà came the Fratellanza Capo, whom I had previously met. But I had never met Lorenzo before.
“Lorenzo, this is my daughter, Anni.”
I looked at him properly for the first time. He was tall, good-looking, and looked ruthlessly fit under his expensive suit. He had dark, almost-black hair, while his eyes were deep brown and glinting fiercely as they glared at me.
Despite the beautiful proportions of his face and the sort of body women would sigh over, something in his expression hinted at the darkness within him. And a sense of raw masculinity and danger rolled off him in waves as his stare on me intensified.
Goosebumps erupted on my arms under his piercing gaze. He was notorious within the underworld: he was the devil dressed in Brioni and black, and his darkness dimmed the bright lights of the city he ruled with his cousins. And now his ruthless attention was fixed on me.
I licked my lips. “Papà, I didn’t know he was one of the Marchianos. He was going to shoot me.” I didn’t pause for breath and instead carried on quickly. “I was waiting for my online club to start and thought I’d just kill some time by practicing my shooting.”
“Do you always just shoot random strangers?” Lorenzo growled at me, stepping closer so that he towered over me with his threatening presence.
I glared at him. “Do you always think a person’s dangerous if they are dressed up as a cat?”
“Look, everyone just needs to calm down,” soothed my papà, trying to defuse the tension. “Anni likes to practice her shooting skills from time to time. It’s good for a girl to know how to protect herself.”
“You let your daughterfool aroundwith guns?” Lorenzo’s words hurtled through the air. “She tried to kill me!”
My blood heated at his condescending tone. “If I hadn’t been wearing the cat head and had my view obscured, I would definitely have killed you, trust me.” I knew I should keep quiet at this point, but my mouth just kept on babbling.
“Why the hell are you wearing that costume anyway?” Lorenzo snarled at me.
“I was dressing up.”
“Yeah? What were you dressing up as—a crazy cat-dressed killer?”
I wasn’t going to let him mock me. “And what were you so scared of that you needed to pull your piece on me? I mean, I’m wearing a fluffy white cat outfit and have a fricking pink bow around my neck.”
“Anni, mind your language,” Papà admonished gently. I had never dared to speak like this to a stranger, especially not to one who was also a Made Man. “I still don’t understand why you shot at him?”
I took a deep breath, attempting to steady my racing pulse. “The bottles and guns were out. I was bored, so I decided to do some firing practice. Then he came out of nowhere and pulled his gun on me. What did you want me to do, Papà, call 911? You know you always tell us never to call the authorities and that we can handle any dangers by ourselves.”
My dad ran his hand through his gray hair. “I meant that themencan handle any dangers, Anni. You should have called for me if you were scared.”
“There was no time,” I exclaimed. “He already had his gun aimed at me, and he was about to kill meandkill my cat costume. He was going to commit a moggy-murder!” I think I was still in shock, as I couldn’t help my thoughts from pouring out.
“Anni, dear, your outfit is just a costume, not a real cat,” reasoned Papà. “And it was all a mistake.”
“Jesus Christ,” gritted out Lorenzo. “She might be your daughter, but she’s batshit crazy.”
