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“Because he’s worried about you.”
“I’m a grown up,” she says, and I’m kinda shocked she doesn’t stomp her foot.
“Yeah, he knows.” Dan doesn’t sound too happy, which means Daddy isn’t too happy, and a heaviness starts to sit in my guts. “But seems he got a call saying you’ve been getting some excess mail at the bar?”
“From him.”
Dan laughs and shakes his head. “Not from him, kid.” The man breathes out. “And he’s worried because you didn’t tell your friends.”
She presses her lips together. “I’m going to. I just wanted . . .”
That’s when I step out, and her words falter. “So, her father didn’t send the card?”
The guy whips around with his hand going under his jacket where I know his gun is.
I raise my hands a little to show I’m not about to do anything. This is a professional, like me, but this is also his boss’s daughter, so taking chances when things might be even isn’t on my agenda.
Besides, I’m not sure Avah’s gonna like it if I shoot her dad’s man or vice versa.
The guy looks me over. “No card. And you are?”
“Nicolo Abruzzi.”
His gaze sweeps me again. “Who is?”
I know what he’s asking. “Security,” I say. “For De Luca.”
His brows go up. “Big firm.”
“Strong. Reputable. And trustworthy.”
He nods slowly, the gray streak on the left side catching the light as the streetlamps come on. He knows what I’m saying to him.
His ward is in good hands. The De Luca reputation lives up to its hype, and he gets my warning that if you cross me, you cross the family.
Not that he’s going to. We have no beef or dealings with the Morgan affiliates. Or the Morgans. And right now, we’re in a kinda no man’s land here where Avah decided to wander.
It’s a good thing she had two pros following her; otherwise, she might have been fodder for a local low-lying gang.
I’m idly thinking of spanking her. Just to get the message across. Also, spanking her sweet ass is something I’d enjoy.
I pull my thoughts back. The last thing I need is to get anything remotely like a boner with her father’s right-hand man here. “So, this is the first her father has had a hand in?”
“I’m not a fucking liar, Abruzzi. And Avah’s special—”
“If you say goods, I’m hurting you,” she says, low and vicious. Like a cat. But one with very sharp claws, I’m thinking.
But I shift my attention from her to him. Not looking directly at him, just letting my focus settle on him.
There’s something more. A few little packages shouldn’t have Daddy sending his best man down. And Avah doesn’t act at all like a mafia or crime princess. If she was, she wouldn’t be here. I know how they operate. I know how Mia’s father operated, how at one point he made a deal to marry her that caused all kinds of trouble.
No, her father isn’t doing that, and she hasn’t been groomed for that.
But . . . yeah . . . something is off. He got a call?
Does her fucking boss at the bar know what was in the package that came there? Mia and Scarlett were there, so it’s possible, but him calling her father? It doesn’t quite fit.
That bar might be in Lowlander territory, but it’s like a ton of businesses in ours—above board. I’d have heard otherwise if it wasn’t.
