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Or she, I think mutinously.Itcouldbe a woman.
He stands and stares around at everyone, then slams a fist down on the table. I jump in shock, noticing that I’m not the only one who does so.
“Then we will crush him into dust.”
Amidst the murmurs, this time of approval and agreement, I suddenly have trouble breathing. This is the side of my husband I fear. The side I glimpsed when we were last together. The violent side, in a world that offers a kill-or-be-killed viewpoint. All of these people seem to understand and accept that as the norm.
But it isn’t the norm. It isn’t okay to lop people’s fingers off because they annoy you, or want to crush someone into literal dust.
As if Rio can sense my distress, he drags me to my feet and slides an arm around my waist.
Unity. A show of strength.
His touch is both possessive and comforting. Which is crazy when he also terrifies me.
Regardless of my churning emotions, he is sending a clear message to everyone here that I am his and therefore not to be touched. I raise my chin and slip my arm around him, too. He wants to show us united? Here we are, Mafia Dons.
As scared as I am about my future, I take some comfort from the knowledge that Rio will do all he can to protect me and the baby if a turf war does break out.
I press against him, taking a deep breath and letting it out in a slow exhale, trying to remain calm, at least outwardly.
I will not crumble. I am strong. I have to be strong for the baby.
Because in this violent world in which I once again find myself, the strong are the only ones who survive. And anyone weak will be annihilated.
Crushed into dust.
12
“Our greatest glory is not in never failing, but in rising up every time we fail.”
Ralph Waldo Emerson
Bianca
Rioand his business guests spend more time talking, but the attention is no longer on me as they start to nut out varying theories and plans of action. Whoever their enemy is, the person most likely doesn’t have long to live. These are some of the most powerful men in the country, and if they can unite and share their resources, there will be no stopping them.
I think back with a pang of nostalgia to the days when I worked at the Animal Paws center, where my hours were filled with feeding, bathing, and walking dogs, and caring for other sick and abandoned animals. I was surrounded then by happy, carefree people who, like me, loved their job and enjoyed the idea of helping creatures in need.
A year ago, I would never in a million years have imagined myself sitting in a conference room with a bunch of Mafia bosses, listening while they plan the demise of a currently unnamed enemy.
I curl my hands around my baby and close my eyes, trying to tune them all out, but when a warm hand covers mine, I snap my eyes open again to find Rio—of course, who else would dare to touch me in his presence?—staring down at my bump with curiosity.
“Is he kicking again?”
“He, or rather,she, is being quiet for now,” I say. At the flare of concern that flashes across his face, I shake my head. “All good. She’s always quiet at this time of the evening. She’ll arc up as soon as I lie down to sleep.”
“Orhe.”
I release a half chuckle, unable to believe I can actually share a moment of mirth while in a room full of murderers and criminals. But the moment seems strangely intimate, and when he finally grunts and removes his hand, I almost reach out to drag him back.
Eventually, the roundtable breaks up, and drinks are served at the far end of the room. People shear off into groups of two or three, and the chatter grows louder. One of the men—I think he might have been the one named Enzo—makes a beeline for me, but Rio takes my arm and draws me aside, cutting off the man’s path and making it clear that any conversation with me is off-limits.
“Scared of what I might say, Rio?” I ask, only half teasing.
He pushes a lock of my hair back off one shoulder before leaning down to murmur in my ear. “I am always unsure of what you might say or do, little bird. But you performed well just now. I may decide to reward you later.”
I arch a brow, daring to push him a little further given his obvious good humor. “I barely did anything, except show up. What was the point of showing me off like that? I was clearly not expected to contribute to the discussion at all. Was it just to show everyone that I am a meek little lamb, back under your control once again?”
