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“How do you know?”
“I just do.”
“If I’m going to trust you, I’m going to need more than that.” He raises one eyebrow. It’s a challenge. He doesn’t trust me. I get it. I don’t trust him completely either. I respect him. There’s a difference.
“Fine. You want to know?” He nods. “I read it off him. I’m good at reading people.”
“You read it off him?” Confusion coats his words. Yeah, confuses me too. It’s hard to explain my gift.
“Yes. It’s what I’ve been doing. I spent time with those men. Read their physical reactions to various mundane questions. Flirted, got them relaxed around me. A lot of what is unsaid is in the eyes.” Massimo nods slightly. It’s encouragement to continue. “I’m sure you are familiar with some of the tells. Yes? Shifting eyes or refusal to make eye contact when answering a question. Means they’re lying.”
“Yes.” I knew he would be. It’s the basics they are taught when training to be soldiers. It comes in handy. It’s child’s play compared to what I do. And what I do, can’t be taught. Not to my level at least. That’s not me bragging. It’s a fact.
“I can read deeper than that. I see it in their eyes. See it in the way they stand, sit, walk, and talk. Most of the time it’s not what they say, it’s how they say it.”
“And you know by spending what, twenty minutes at the bar with Joseph that he’s a rat and working with the Cartel?”
“Yes.” Massimo still doesn’t look convinced. “Should I read you? If what I tell you is true, will you trust me?” I offer. It’s gotten me in trouble in the past. I’m sure it will again now. I’ve already learned so much since sitting in this room with him.
“I’ll consider it.” He sits back with his arms crossed over his chest. His forearm muscles tightening. The veins bulging. Yum. Some women love a man’s face, some his chest or ass. Me. I like the arms. I want someone with strong arms to hold me tight. I want to feel safe, protected, cherished, in big burly arms.
Good enough. “Need to warn you. You might not like what I tell you. You’ll probably be mad at me.”
“Doubt it.” He still doesn’t think I know him at all. I think I know him better than himself. Or at least more than he is willing to admit about himself.
“I don’t.” I take a deep breathe. “You’re an only child. You’re left handed. But you shoot and attack with your right first. It’s not instinct. It’s technique. You know that everyone expects you to be right handed. It’s more common. You do it so they don’t anticipate the left. Leaves them unprotected and perfect for you to strike.” His eyebrows raise and he unfolds his arms. Got his attention now. “You were recently promoted. That part is common knowledge. Congrats by the way.” I throw that in to see how we reacts. Just as I thought. There is a tightening of his eyes and his left fist twitches like he wants to make a fist. “You aren’t happy though. It’s what you’ve worked for. You feel guilty about not being happy. You want to be Don. You want to be boss.”
Fuck. Now I’ve pissed him off, just as I suspected. His eyes darken and he sits up straighter. “You don’t want to feel this way. You love Luca like a brother. You are happy he’s Don. You wouldn’t want to take it from him. But secretly you wish it was you. You think that if your mother hadn’t left that your father would have worked his way up to Underboss before Ricco.” Smoke is now streaming out of his ears.
“How do you know about my mother?” His voice is deadly.
“I told you. I read people.” He still doesn’t believe me.
“Who told you?” He barks.
“No one.” I can’t help my instinct to shrink back at his dark, menacing gaze. “Look around the room. There are no family photos, no knick knacks. You come from a broken home. There is no feminine touch. Everything is dark and muted. Means it was the mother who left. You aren’t in a relationship. There are no signs of a woman in this room. The bed smells like you. Means you don’t trust woman. Your mother cheated on your dad. You don’t have anything expensive in here. Not even a large TV. You grew up poor, she wanted more. Dad didn’t take it well. I’m guessing drinking. You take care of him.”
“You’ve been spying on me!” He stands. Knocks his chair over.
“No.” I throw my hands up. I knew he’d be mad. It’s what always happens. “I told you. I read you. It’s what I do. It’s why I was helping my father.”
“I don’t believe you.”
“I know.”
“Then why try to sell this lie to me.”
I sigh in defeat. Why can’t I be normal? Why do I always manage to piss people off? We were getting along. He was treating me well. Finally. “It’s not a lie. It’s my burden. I told you, you wouldn’t like what I told you. Believe me or not. I didn’t lie. I even told you ahead of time, you wouldn’t like what I would tell you.”
Massimo glares at me for a few moments, then turns on his heel and storms to the door. He reaches out for the handle and pauses. “You are not to leave this room. A guard is posted outside.”
“So I’m still a prisoner?” I already know the answer. No. But…
“I don’t trust you. You’ll stay here until I do, or until you are no longer being hunted.”
CHAPTER EIGHT
Livianna
