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CHAPTER 7

Brie

I barely makeit through the door of my suite before there’s a loud, insistent knocking at it. For a wild moment, I imagine it’s Nik, that she’s come to save me just like she did last night. But when I fling open the door, it’s Frank Colombo who pushes his way inside, his craggy face a mask of concern.

“Breezy,” he says, his voice gruff. “Now, listen, after what happened to you, youneedprotection, and I won’t hear any arguments about it.”

I open my mouth to argue, to insist that I can take care of myself. But the crack of gunfire, the sickening lurch as Nik frantically pulled me down—it all comes rushing back. As much as I hate the idea of being watched 24/7, of losing what little freedom I have left, I’d rather not end up dead in an alley.

“Fine,” I concede.

Frank doesn’t look as relieved as I thought he might. “Thing is, we’re running low on manpower.”

Just as Eva Novak pointed out, the Colombo Family has been shrinking over the last few years. But we have other options.“Send a few people from casino security to my floor, and station another couple outside my door.”

Frank looks surprised for a moment. “That’s a good idea, Breezy. Good idea.”

“And Frank, did you know Juno Bianchi is here?”

He beams. “Sure I know. I called her up myself yesterday, one of your best girlfriends. She’ll take good care of you in your…” He drops his voice. “Well, your time of need.”

Juno is here because ofFrank?

“But Frank,” I say slowly, exasperation threatening to knock aside my Poor Little Widow mask, “Juno Bianchi also happens to be aMob Boss, so?—”

Before I can go on, there’s another knock at the door. Swallowing a sigh, I move to open it myself. Standing in the hallway is Juno herself in a perfectly tailored Armani suit. Her wife, Caitlin, stands slightly behind her in jeans and a flannel shirt, red curls just as wild as I remember them, and I can’t help but smile.

But it’s the two women flanking them that really catch my attention. One is tall and lithe, with a blonde ponytail and cold dark eyes that seem to take in everything at once. The other has shiny dark hair, pretty but haunted hazel eyes framed by thick bangs, and a stance that screams “try me.”

“Brie, darling,” Juno says, stepping forward to embrace me. “I’msosorry for your loss. We came as soon as we could.”

I return the hug, grateful for her familiar presence despite my wariness. “Thank you for coming, Juno. I appreciate the support.”

But then Juno adds softly, “Frank told me that an attempt was made onyourlife, also.”

Frank needs to learn to keep his damn mouth shut where Juno is concerned, and I’ll have to find a way to firmlysuggestthat to him.

Speaking of Frank, he’s clearing his throat and sidling to the door, clearly uncomfortable with amount of estrogen in the room. “I’ll leave you ladies to your girl talk,” he says, excusing himself with a respectful nod to Juno. But it’s for show only—Frank has never really understood just how much power Juno Bianchi holds.

He never would have called her in at a time like this if hehadunderstood.

The four women file in and Frank scurries out. As soon as the door closes behind him, I roll my eyes dramatically, earning a quiet chuckle from all present. The tension in the room eases slightly, but I can tell Juno and Caitlin are a little uncertain how to approach me.

And I still have no idea who these other two are.

“How are you really doing?” Caitlin asks, her voice soft with genuine concern. She guides me to the sofa, sitting close.

“I’m managing.”

“Someone took a shot at you,” Juno says bluntly. “And yet you have no guards posted outside the door. You arenotmanaging, Brie. And your people are failing you.”

I bristle at that, but I bite my tongue and turn instead toward the two unfamiliar women, who are busy exchanging a loaded glance. “Hello,” I say with meaning.

Juno makes quick introductions. “This is Lyssa and Scarlett Fletcher, representatives from the Styx Syndicate in Chicago. They’re here as a show of solidarity, as are we.”

The Styx Syndicate. I’ve heard of them, but Terry never did business with them. Still, their support could be useful.

Juno has paused for our handshakes, but now she dives back into business. “Do you know who killed Don Colombo?”