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“HeySienna,”Dantecallsfor me as I walk past his office. “Come here.”
I walk into his personal space having only been invited in here a couple of times. He has a cupcake in his hand, which is outstretched toward me. I look at the small, single candle flickering on top.
My forehead ruffles in confusion. “What’s this?” I ask.
I glance back at Dante. He looks relaxed and far too happy for it to be his natural state.
“You never told me when your birthday was, so here’s a cupcake to celebrate your anniversary here.”
The gesture is so thoughtful, it warms my heart. After my mother died, I haven’t had cake or anything like that on my birthday. Not that today is it, but it’s moments like these that have me wishing this could be my real life. One where I’m not constantly looking over my shoulder, expecting something bad to happen. Dante has me feeling like we’re real friends, and I’ve never had one of those before. The closest thing to a real friend I had was Ginevra, and we had to hide our friendship because of who my family is.
At the clubhouse, girls were forced to play with me because of who my father is, or the opposite, they weren’t allowed to play with me because of who my father is. Then I got to be a certain age, and when I looked around, I had no one.
“We don’t need a reminder of how much you needed me,” I tease, trying to downplay how much I appreciate this act of kindness.
He gestures his hand for me to take the sweet, and I blow the candle out.
“You have to eat half.” I’m already ripping it in two before he has the chance to deny me.
I hand him back his part and we both sink our teeth into it. The outside, and part of the inside, is made from real whipped cream. The smooth, creamy taste slides down my throat and now I regret sharing with him. I’m done with mine in two bites and wish I had a hundred more. Its death-by-chocolate taste is my favorite.
“Here’s the rest of them.” He brings up five more in a clear plastic container.
My mouth waters at the thought of having one more. “Thank you, Dante.”
He steps up and gives me the container, but I steal a hug. He stiffens in my embrace and holds his breath, only releasing it when our bodies are no longer touching. I had hoped the viewing area might help him with his no touching rule. I’m not sure if it has.
“Don’t share with anyone, they don’t deserve them, and I don’t want them to start thinking I’ll buy them cupcakes for anything they think needs to be celebrated.”
“I would never dream of ruining your broody, dangerous vibe you wrap around yourself like a security blanket.”
He lifts a brow and I laugh at his less-than-humorous expression. He loves it when I tease him. I give him a small wave before closing his door and making my way to the back room. I open the container and inhale another cupcake. It’s still as good as the first one. I suck on each finger, cleaning the small amount of whip from them before hiding the cupcakes until I can take them home.
The evening is unnaturally slow. Dante had me cut a few of our girls for the night, which never happens. I have time to do some of the book work at the bar and clean out the back room. It’s never been so organized. Each time I go back, I enjoy another one of my cupcakes. Just the thought of them has me smiling.
“I’m going to toss this in the trash.” I let one of the waitresses know, lifting a garbage bag in her general direction before I head out the back.
The light that normally shines bright flickers intermittently at best, making the area dark. I scrunch my nose while looking at it. I’ll have to let Dante know about this tomorrow.
Walking toward the dumpster, I toss the heavy bag in while keeping the lid held open. I hear feet shuffle in the darkness and I let the lid drop with a heavy bang before turning to run back in, but a pain-filled moan has me pausing.
I should get the bouncer to come back here, but instead, I walk toward the sound. I recognize the outline of Max instantly. The light flickers and his face looks hard, possessed, and intent on killing the man dropped to his knees at his feet. Max sucker punches him in the gut before kicking his jaw.
I turn my head and a small, muffled squeak slips through before I can hold it in. The last time I saw rage like that was when my father put a bullet in my mother as she tried to run away. My father’s face at that moment in time flashes through my mind, the same cold hatred had shone in his eyes as well.
My body freezes, locked in place as the flashback runs through my memory, immobilizing me. The realization that I’ve exchanged one gilded cage for another sits heavy in my gut.
“Sienna.” I turn at the sound of my name. Max’s eyes are large, not expecting my interruption. Vulnerability flashes in his deep-blue irises before they fade and become lifeless.
“This is who I am, Sienna.” The sound of a bullet leaving its chamber has me jumping back. My mouth drops open as the man slumps to the ground. I’m forced to remember that this is what Max is; a killer. I was supposed to be on the receiving end of one of his bullets too.
“I can’t change who I am. This is in my bones; I thrive on this need too much to change. The honest fact is that I love my job.” His words are distant, vacant like his soul.
“Why did you kill him?” I’m still in shock, or disbelief, that he killed a man in front of me.
“He was a dead lead on who’s trying to hurt Savio’s woman.” There’s no remorse in his expression. He’s not even fazed by the dead guy on the ground while I can’t stop staring at the body. Someone could come back here at any time and see, but Max is only watching me, unscared of the consequences.
“What were you looking for?” I ask, tilting my head back to him. The messed-up part is that the tiny voice in my head isn’t telling me to run. Instead, it’s telling me to dig deeper into Max.
