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Then, without looking back, I walk toward the door.

“We’re going hunting.”

"Wow!"

Gigi smiles at me from the driver's seat, "Right?"

Her brand-new Mercedes Maybach GLS600 is bright red and sitting right in front of the entrance when we exit the mansion. After we drive a few loops up and down the long, winding driveway, I still can't get over how soft the leather is and how comfortable the seats are. Reclining seats! Full-out reclining, with footrests, the whole nine yards.

"I love this car." Gigi revs the engine, and we rush down the long driveway at over a hundred miles an hour. "Want to drive it?"

Normally, I wouldn't dare—Gigi intimated that the SUV cost nearly half a million dollars. Half a million dollars! I still can't wrap my head around it—but new me? "I'd love to."

She stops the car by the gate, waves at the guards, and we switch seats. I might have begun to morph into a new version of me, but I haven't shaken old Scarlet off completely yet, so I drive back to the mansion at a normal speed—thirty-five, forty.

Gigi laughs, "How old are you? Eighty? Make it fly!"

For a second, I turn my head to look at her. She's serious.

"Come on, Scar. Bawk, bawk, brrraawk," Gigi mocks.

Fine.

I hit the gas, and the Mercedes lifts off, just like she dared me. "Wow!"

It's a rush—freeing and intoxicating, like breaking free from chains I never realized I was wearing. I laugh. The mansion comes back into view, and I hit the brakes, fishtailing us.

Gigi slaps my arm, also laughing. "Now that was driving."

My heart still beats a hundred miles an hour, elation rushes through my veins, and for the fifth or sixth time in less than an hour, all I can say is, "Wow!"

"What color do you want?"

Thinking she's joking, I say, "Black."

"Noted." She winks at me.

She can't be serious, can she? "Uhm, Gigi, we're just joking, right?"

"Right," she agrees with a mischievous smile that makes sweat break out all over my back and a wink that sends a trembling premonition through my belly.

Her phone beeps. She pulls it out, and her entire face lights up as she quickly replies.

"Boyfriend?" I wager.

Startled, she looks up as if she forgot about me. Her face flushes endearingly. "Your secret is safe with me," I assure her, taking another guess that maybe Antonio doesn't like his little sister dating, being Italian and mafia and all.

"If Antonio finds out, he'll kill him," Gigi says.

Her expression says it all. She's not joking.

I swallow. So far, this whole mafia thing has beenfun–besides the whole kidnapping and being tortured part—I love rediscovering me, but seeing Gigi scared brings it home what world I'm all too willing to step into. Shooting a gun, talking revenge, feeling relieved that the men who hurt me are dead, that's nothing compared to seeing the naked fear in Gigi's eyes. Fuck!

"Oh, Gigi." I don't know what to say.

"I haven't told anyone." She gnaws on her lower lip. "Promise you won't say a word."

"I promise," I nod, crossing my heart, wondering what the hell I'm getting myself into. If Gigi is scared of Antonio… his little sister, the one he just bought a half-million-dollar car for, then I should probably be trembling in my bones.