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She smirks. “It’s all yours, Baby.”
My balls tighten as I reach down and pick up the food. “One and a half.”
Cassandra lets out a full laugh, and I grin as I shove the last bite of her sandwich into my mouth.
It tastes better than I know it should. But that’s because it’s hers. She had her hands on it. Her mouth on it.
I lick a smudge of mayo off my fingertip.
From the few meals we’ve shared, I think it’s safe to say my obsession with consuming her food doesn’t just apply to her home bakes, but also to anything she’s eaten herself.
My eyes move to the crumbs on her plate.
Cassandra seems to let a lot of my bad behavior go, but licking sandwich crumbs off a hotel plate might be too much.
I’m still considering it when my phone rings, making the decision for me.
I pull it out of my pocket and set it on the table between us. A1—Alliance One, Nero’s designation—fills my screen.
I answer and put it on speaker. “Quick work.”
“Had my best guys on it,” Nero replies. And I wonder if he’s talking about him and King. “So, the dead guy—nice shot, by the way.”
“Thanks,” Cassandra responds automatically, then slaps a hand over her mouth.
There’s a beat before Nero speaks again. “Well, this just got more interesting. You a part of the hit crew that saved Dom and Val?”
“No,” I reply before Cassandra can.
Nero hums. “Then who are you?”
He still addresses his question to Cassandra, but I still answer. “No.”
“Alright, we can circle back to that.” I can hear Nero tap a keyboard. “So, our dead guy has ties to a branch of the Corsican mafia.” Dread twists in my gut. “Word is that some French fuck with a bunch of money is back in the game, and he hired a crew to take you out. I personally haven’t heard of him before?—”
“Gabriel Marcoux.” I speak the name I think of every single day.
Nero pauses. “That’s the one. You know him?”
I stare at the table. “I killed most of the men under him.”
“When?”
“Twenty years ago.”
“Why?” Nero’s tone is too curious.
“You don’t need to know that,” I grit out, and a soft hand settles on top of the one I have fisted on the table.
“Maybe not. But as you know, I can find out. So if we’re building trust here…” Nero trails off.
I loosen my fingers, and Cassandra immediately intertwines hers.
I let out a breath. “His men kidnapped and murdered my sister. He was in charge at the time, behind the scenes. But he disappeared before I could get to him.”
Nero makes a low, angry sound at my admission before adding, “And now he’s back.”
“Now he’s back,” I repeat, because it must be true.
