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Our gazes lock for a second, and then we scramble to the gun. She gets to it first and presses the muzzle to my forehead. It’s amazing how she transformed the crying mess to the cold, hard look now on her face.
Her jaws are clenched, and her nose flared.
“You and Giorgio Bernardi killed my brother,” Daniella says coldly.
“I’m afraid I don’t know who your brother is. I won’t deny I’ve killed some people. But they’ve been always people trying to kill me. It’s either me or them, you know? Man’s gotta stay alive.”
“You and Giorgio killed my brother,” she repeats. She appears irritated by my smile.
“Again, I don’t know who your brother is. And if I killed him, it means he was trying to kill me too.”
“If I were you, I’d beg for mercy. I’ve promised to kill everyone who took part in killing Angelo. I should have poisoned you when I had the chance…”
“I don’t beg,” I whisper. “Why should I when I have you where I want you?”
Confusion distorts her pretty features as she tries to figure out what I have over her. I use that advantage to twist gun away from me and hit the magazine release. The magazine falls to the floor, leaving only one round left in the gun, the one in the chamber. She’s so surprised by my actions, she lets go of the gun, and it’s nothing to wrestle it from her and clear the gun the rest of the way.
I turn her over and peer in her face. Her face is sizzling with anger.
“You mentioned Angelo. Is it Angelo Leone?”
Daniella winces as I mention her brother’s name, then she follows it up with a nod.
“Giorgio killed him. I didn’t have a hand in that. They had a business dispute and he decided to kill him. Used one of his girls. I didn’t play any role in Angelo’s death.”
Looking at her now, I see the resemblance between her and Angelo. The same angular features, the fierce look. Damn, I should have known.
“You expect me to believe you?”
“It’s the truth. I got proof.”
“Show me.”
I get off her, grab my phone from the couch, and unlock it. “See? Twenty-first of August. That’s when Giorgio shot Angelo. I was on a three-day trip to the Maldives. I wasn’t there, Daniella. You got the wrong guy.”
While I talk, I swipe through the pictures I took while in the Maldives. Dozens of colorful pictures showing me bare-chested with my tattoos prominent.
Daniella sighs and buries her face in her hands. I step closer and lay a comforting hand on her shoulder.
“I’m sorry about Angelo.”
“He was everything I had.” Her eyes are teary again. The badass woman who pinned me to the ground not long ago was gone, replaced with a vulnerable girl with tears rolling down her face.
I sit next to her. She sobs and rambles on about how much Angelo meant to her and how she’s still not sure she can live without him.
I wrap an arm around her and she leans into my body. It’s been months, and she’s still alive—it shows she can survive if she wants to. But I keep the thought to myself.
I give her time to rant and curse and cry. It looks like she’s has been holding all this in for much too long. She needs that emotional release. The years of watching people die have numbed me, but to feel her body shaking in my arms? It makes me feel human for the first time in what feels like ages.
“Thank you,” Daniella says as she lifts her head off my shoulder. Her eyes are as red as fire in the hearth. I can see how appreciative she looks.
“It’s fine,” I mutter. “Once again, I’m sorry about your brother. If you need my help, I can help you bring Don Giorgio down and make him pay for what he did to Angelo.”
Daniella looks at me with renewed interest. “Aren’t you one of them? Why would you help me?”
“I have my reasons.” I could tell her the truth about what I did, how I set some girls free and one of them went back and told Giorgio. But I’m not here to get a badge. I just want my life back.
“Whatever you have in mind, I’m in.” The quiet rage in her tone is unmistakable. “I’ll do whatever it takes to put him six feet under.”
