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He’s alive.
A pop and flare of flames tells me the car’s leaking gas. We have minutes, if not seconds. I reach for him, but he’s trapped beneath the weight of the twisted metal. I quickly assess the situation.
I know what I have to do. I get to my feet and grab the solid parts of the hot metal. I’ve lifted foryears;I know I can do this. I throw everything I have into it, fueled by adrenaline, and with a rage-fueled scream, lift the twisted metal and shove the car off him..
Mario groans. I lift him, toss him over my shoulder, and leap to safety as a second pop is followed by abang!Heat flares against my back asI fall onto the grass with him and role as the car explodes into fire behind us.
* * *
CHAPTERNINE
Eden
I’m servingup a platter of my best homemade sugar cookies when there’s a commotion. Sergio’s younger brother Timeo stands behind me on the phone, gesturing to Gino. Gino grabs his phone.
“Where are they?” Gino barks. He nods and snaps his fingers at a younger man in a suit by the door as he and Timeo hustle toward the door to the club. I exchange glances with the kitchen staff, but no one else seems to know what’s happening either.
This is none of my business, I need to focus on work. I don’t want to involve myself in something that doesn’t have anything to do with me.
I’ve barely started picking up the mixing bowl and baking sheets when someone walks past the door to the kitchen, crying. I catch a glimpse of Marialena’s gorgeous hair as she sweeps past, intent on running outside to the parking lot.
Oh, no.
No.
Something is wrong.
“Marialena!” She pauses in the hall, turning to me with a tearstained face. “What happened?”
“Mario and Sergio were in an accident,” she says in a choked voice.
Ice pulses in my veins and I cover my mouth with my hand.
“Are they okay?” I finally manage to whisper, but I know the answer before she gives it to me. One shake of her head, and she leaves.
I slide my apron off and head to the hallway. The door to the parking lot behind the building’s wide open… and so’s the doorway that leads to the club.
The club, which I’ve been strictly forbidden from entering. The club, where I’ll find everyone who has any answers. Where people will know if Sergio is okay.
If he’s alright, he’s not going to be happy that I’ve entered his club, but if he isn’t… he’ll never know, I realize with a tightening in my throat that’s foreign to me.
No one is allowed access to the club without using their thumbprint to open the door. Sergio’s rabid about safety. I’ve never seen the door to the club open.
I stare.
In their haste, Gino and Timeo forgot to shut the door. Sergio would murder them with his bare hands and make it a slow and painful death, I have no doubt. But for me? I just found the pot of gold.
I step into the club, my heart pounding, knowing I’m doing something that could get me fired, or… worse.
What would be worse?
I make up my mind, take a deep breath, and shut the door behind me.
I feel so exposed in here, I half expect to find myself standing on a stage or something. But when I look around, I find the lighting’s so dim I can’t see much of anything at all. I stand just inside the doorway, allowing my eyes to adjust to the dimness.
It’s so elegant in here, it takes me a moment to realize I’m staring at a bar as the focal point of the center of the club. Of course, I’ve never been to a bar, but I know what it is.
The interior design of this place is immaculate, with sleek lines and muted colors. It’s warm and inviting, the lighting soft and subtle. The floor’s highly polished wood and the bar itself is a masterpiece of stunning marble, the stools around wrapped in leather. The bottles of alcohol are lined up like jewels, glimmering beneath the light of an overhead chandelier. The bartenders—one man and one woman—are dressed in matching crisp white shirts and dress pants. They look friendly and charming, and any other time, even though I don’t drink, I’d want to order one just to see it pour into the glass.
