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Ashton: I need to see you.
A flash of panic hit my bloodstream. Knox didn’t text unless there was a problem. I could think of only one problem. Deidre. Or maybe he had information on Marco, and his retaliation on the Irish.
Knox wouldn’t betray the Irish, and he wouldn’t betray me. If there was going to be a mafia war, he’d make sure I wasn’t in the crosshairs. I stared at the message. He wouldn’t ask to see me unless it was important. We both understood the consequences of being seen together. My pulse ratcheted into a frenzied beat.
Mila: I can’t.
If my association with him was revealed, my family would kill him for the past, and Marco would torture him because of the present.
Ashton: Where are you? Are you with him?
My stomach swooped. I had a small window of time before Marco would be back. My gut told me it was Dee. Tim had been watching her computer. There had to be a new threat.
Oh god, what was I supposed to do? I had to see Knox. He couldn’t risk texting me the information. I wanted to trust Marco, but a sliver of doubt refused to let me. Not when it came to Knox. Marco wanted war with the Irish. If they were courting young girls like Dee, Marco would use the information to garner support from the other families.
Mila: He’s not here.
I glanced into the living room. Orlando’s eyes were closed, and his arm draped over his head. I could sneak away for just a few minutes. He wouldn’t even know I’d left.
Ashton: I’ll come to you.
Mila: Hurry. Meet me in the lobby.
I sent him the hotel address, tucked the phone into the back pocket of my jeans, and choked on the bitterness of defying Marco. I hated this. I wanted to trust in Marco, but I feared The Enforcer. More for Knox than for myself.
In my room, I slipped on my canvas chucks, tying the laces a little tighter to support my ankle. After I slipped a knife into my hoodie pouch, I softly walked through the living room.
Orlando leaned up and blinked sleep from his eyes. “I must be tired.”
“More reason for you to go to your own room,” I said. And less risk to Knox. I had a few minutes to divert Orlando before I had to lie.
“Are you hungry? Let’s grab some food.”
“I’ll wait for Marco. Really, I’m just going to hang around the hotel. I don’t need you to babysit me.”
“Good, because I suck at responsibility.” He crashed back to the couch. “But I’m working on it. I’m ordering room service. Not that I’d call that chicken and buffalo sauce pie an Italian pizza, but it’s pretty fucking good. Are you sure you don’t want to eat?”
The phone in my back pocket vibrated. I needed to go.
“Actually, I was thinking of running down to the gift shop. They carry the bath beads I love. Maybe I’ll get some massage oil for Marco. Maybe he’ll like being rubbed down more than being cut up.”
“I’ll come with you.” Orlando slid his legs around and groaned.
“Don’t put yourself out.” I tilted my head and pursed my lips. Inside, I trembled, but I played the game.
“Marco wouldn’t want you to go alone.”
“He isn’t here, and I’ll be back in fifteen minutes. Seriously, what can happen?” I pulled the blade from my front pouch. “I’m good.”
“Does Marco know you’re secretly a warrior ninja with cloak and dagger tendencies?”
“Maybe.” I laughed. “I’m definitely not what he expected.” I wouldn’t make a typical mafia wife any better than I’d make a mafia soldier. I didn’t follow orders. “If you call in room service on the tablet, I’ll be back before it’s delivered.”
I slipped into the elevator before he could follow me. As the doors closed, I released the breath I held and pulled the phone from my back pocket.
Ashton: I’m here.
Mila: On my way.
