I will never understand how a guy as good as Antonio got wrapped up in organized crime.
“Look at them,” Mirko says. “They’re not starting a book club. They’re talking about us.”
Silvano chuckles. “I highly doubt that, Mirko. You’re not that interesting.”
The men all laugh. All except for Mirko, who glares at my consigliere but doesn’t snap back. Silvano is above him on the food chain, something I know the old-timer has had issues with since the position fell to Vito’s younger brother.
A server comes back to announce that the dance floor is ready, and we all file back into the ballroom. I take Alexis’ hand and draw her to me before the music even starts. I’ve missed her. Her attention has only been divided for a couple of hours, and yet I’ve missed her. Love is a strange thing.
“I see you’ve been holding court,” I murmur, smiling down at her.
The music starts, and I begin to lead her across the floor.
Alexis smiles back at me. “They’re a good bunch, those girls. It’s nice to talk to people who get it.”
“Get what?”
“All of it,” she says, jutting her chin around the room. “Raising kids, following our passions, knowing that each time the man we love leaves the house, it might be the last time we see him alive.”
My hand tightens on Alexis’ waist. I gaze down at her, a little lost for words.
Then she laughs. “Plus, they’re absolutely hilarious. Gina has a mouth like a sailor on her.”
I laugh and draw Alexis closer, inhaling the scent of her flowery perfume. I press my lips against her ear, and my hand runs over her back.
“I’m sorry,” I say. “I should have told you sooner.”
“Yes, you should have,” she replies tersely. “But I can forgive if you promise that there will be no more secrets between us.”
“Before I agree, I want you to fully understand what you’re asking of me,” I tell her as we glide across the room. “I will need to show you the darkest side of me and share the most vicious aspects of this business.”
“That’s what I want,” she replies.
“And in return for this complete honesty, Alexis, I will expect you to always put our family, as well as the Family first. Because now they are one and the same.”
Alexis steps back, staring up at me fiercely. “That’s what I want.”
I look down at her. My tiger queen. So beautiful, so ferocious, so hungry for power and control. I love her now, and I think I have always loved her. It was just hard to recognize when I’d never had love in my life before she came into it.
I lean down and kiss her. Our lips slide against each other in time with our feet, and the rest of the world seems to slip away under a golden veil. We are together—and together, we can accomplish anything.
BANG.
CRACK CRACK CRACK.
The sound of muffled shouts and gunfire permeates the ballroom. My hands tighten on Alexis as adrenaline shoots through my veins like liquid fire.
We are under attack.
32
Alexis
I barely have time to register the sound of gunfire before Gabriel starts marching me toward the door at the side of the room. I crane my neck and watch as Dom and Antonio barricade the grand double doors.
“Follow Gabriel!” Dom yells to the wives. “He’ll take you to a safe room.”
“Fuck that,” Sheila calls back. “Get me a gun.”
Antonio grins at her, but I tear my eyes away from the touching scene to look up at Gabriel just as we reach the doors.
“I want to fight too,” I tell him.
Gabriel looks down, mouth curved slightly. “I bet you do, Tiger.” He pushes through the door and heads down a hardwood-lined hallway lit by golden sconces. “I might be more inclined to let you if you’d had any training and if you weren’t pregnant. But you haven’t, and you are, so you’re going to stay in the safe room until I come to get you. Understand?”
Begrudgingly, I have to admit he has a point, though I hate the idea of all of the other mob women getting to help fend off whoever is attacking us while I wait in a closet somewhere, twiddling my thumbs. “I understand.”
He pulls me into an elegant bedroom and strides through to the closet door at the far end. When he opens it, I see a hidden steel door at the back of it. He punches a four-digit code into the keypad—1823—and the lock on the door releases. Gabriel presses a chaste kiss to my lips and then nudges me toward the door.
I enter and turn to tell Gabriel to be safe, but he has already closed the door. It locks with a heavy click.
The room is small but comfortable, with a sofa and a mini-fridge stocked with water and some sandwiches. I suppose Gabriel must have had it specially stocked for tonight, just in case. But I doubt he really expected to use it. It’s quiet back here. Too quiet.
My mind whirs. I hate feeling this useless, and there must be something I can do from back here.
Shit.
Harry and Clara are back at the mansion. Has Gabriel had time to warn the guards there of this attack? I need to make sure they’re okay.
I go to grab my phone and realize with a frustrated groan that I left it in on the table by the side door we slipped out of. Gabriel told me to stay, but Clara and Harry could be in danger. I need to warn them. Plus, Gabriel will be too busy to notice if I slip out for a second, right?
I don’t know why I’m even trying to justify my actions. I’m leaving this room, come hell or high water. I punch the code into the keypad and step into the dark closet. I hear a solitary gunshot somewhere in the apartment, but otherwise, I can’t hear anything at all.
I slide open the closet door cautiously, as if someone might be waiting to leap out at me, but the room is empty. I slide out of my heels and tiptoe to the door, cracking it open enough to peek down the hall. It looks clear.
I creep out and close the door behind me, then tiptoe toward the ballroom. I can hear the unmistakable sound of violence from somewhere up ahead—screams, gunshots, glass shattering. The walls seem to shake with the force of it. My heart is doing its best to climb out of my throat, but I force myself to stay calm. I am no good to Harry and Clara if I let my fear take over.
I start to approach the ballroom door. Something slams against the wall next to me from the other side, and I grit my teeth.
Game plan: get in, get the phone, run like hell, and hope nobody notices.
I try not to linger on the various catches with this plan—particularly the fact that I’m in a stunning gown, which is dramatically backless, with an eye-catching diamond necklace—because it doesn’t matter. The plan could suck, but I don’t have another one, and I won’t sit in safety while the people I love suffer if there’s something I might be able to do to help.
Before I can reach the ballroom, a door opens ahead of me and a red-faced man in a black turtleneck steps out, gun drawn. He must have been sent to clear the rest of the rooms, but I can tell from the look on his face that he wasn’t expecting to meet an elegantly dressed woman in the hallway.
The man roars and leaps at me, knocking me to the ground. He straddles my legs and extends his arm to aim the gun at my face, but I grab both of his arms and wrestle them away. I won’t be able to hold him for long, so I do the only other thing I can think to do—I bring my leg up quickly and knee him in the balls.