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Daniella looks up from her phone and catches me staring at her. It’s too late to look away, so I hold her gaze again. I feel the air between us crackling with electricity as a flush of pink dusts her cheeks.
Beyond sex, I want to hold her and comfort her and whisper sweet words in her ears. But we don’t even sleep in the same room. Apart from the first day, when she cried, she has remained emotionally resolute.
“Do you really think we can win this fight?”
“I don’t start something if I don’t think there’s a chance. Yes, Giorgio needs to be stopped and yes, we can do it, if we involve the right people.”
Daniella nods. “Sometimes I’m convinced everything will work out fine, and other times, I think we’re fighting a losing battle.”
I reach across the table to hold her hand. “You’ve come this far. You have to keep believing.”
“I’m looking forward to the day I put this all behind me.”
Daniella looks away from me, setting her eyes on the mountains visible through the window. I think about the fact that when all of this is over, we’ll go our separate ways.
Even though we’ve spent only a short time together, I feel like I have known her for ages. If there’s a chance to convince her to stay and explore these feelings between us, I’ll attempt it. But I doubt she’ll listen. At least not until we put Giorgio behind us.
The waiter clears our table, and we stand to leave the restaurant after paying and leaving a generous tip for the waiter.
Daniella moves the same way, but then stops and stares at me for a few moments. I meet her gaze, though I’m not sure what she’s thinking about. Eventually she breaks eye contact, grabs her bag and moves to leave the room without saying anything else. I don’t know what to say either, so I just follow her until we leave the building.
I scan our surroundings to look for anything out of place. “I think we should start planning the first hit.”
My escape plan never accounted for being on Giorgio’s Wanted List. I managed most of Giorgio’s shipments and I have the schedule memorized. To keep from getting our hands dirty I’ll use one of his greatest rivals, Don Paolo, to do it for us. But first we have to set up the bait.
“Yeah, sure,” she mutters. Her face is close to mine, and it reminds me of her kissing my tattoo before I slid into her.
I swallow and push the thought away before opening the door for Daniella. She slips into my car without saying anything further. The whiff I get of her perfume churns desire in my gut.
For now, all we should think about is Don Giorgio. My hand links with Daniella’s as we head back home. The outing was short, but it revived me and makes me feel like myself again.
The sun is setting as we drive back, casting deep orange hues across the sky. We don’t have much time before it gets dark so I try to make conversation with Daniella in order to kill some of that time.
“So… how did you end up coming here?”
Daniella lets out a long sigh before answering me. “My brother and I moved to New York City five years ago from Kentucky because there are more opportunities in the music industry here. Angelo wanted to be a music producer.”
"Music?"
She nods with sad eyes. “Yeah. He didn’t care what the genre of music was. He just promised that if I took the chance, he’d take care of us.”
I reach over and squeeze her hand.
“He managed to crash a few sessions and then he picked up a few regular artists. The money wasn’t good but we made enough to stay afloat and keep our apartment.”
“What changed?”
I take my eyes off the road for a moment to glance at her face. There’s something sad behind her words when she talks about her brother, and it constantly reminds me of the stakes.
“You’re an amazing sister to uproot your life and help your brother pursue his dreams.”
Daniella looks away from me, as if she doesn’t want me seeing any emotions that may come up because of my comment, but I still catch her brushing away a tear.
“Angelo had been constantly trying to get in contact with the big players in the industry, but he had no luck. We decided that if nothing came up in the next few weeks, he should start looking for a regular jobs.”
I’ve heard this story hundreds of times. New York City is a place where only the strongest survive.
“I always wonder if I’m the reason he took Don Giorgio up on his offer.” Her voice cracks. “It started with DJing at his clubs. It was more money than we could ever imagine.
