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“Why didn’t you go to the police?” I asked.
“Because who the hell would believe me?” she asked, snorting. “I, ah, I decided to try to see if he would open up to me. Because I could record it then.”
“And it would be admissible in court.”
“Yeah. Or, I figured, if I couldn’t make that work, I would just record him on the phone with them, and drop it off to a news station who wouldn’t have any qualms about sharing it.”
“Could the Bratva have learned of your plans? Did you tell friends? Family? Boyfriend?” I asked, the last word having a strange bite to it for reasons I didn’t exactly understand.
“No. I don’t have… anyone,” she admitted. “I mean, I have family. But they’re across the country. And we’re not close.”
“Friends?”
“I work too much for friends. And too much for boyfriends,” she admitted. “I didn’t even search anything online. Maybe I wasn’t the target today,” she said, sounding hopeful.
“They were aiming right at you,” I told her.
“Maybe they thought my boss would come out.”
“I don’t think so. These are professionals. They don’t fuck up a hit.”
“How do you know so much about them?” she asked, finally zeroing in on the strangeness of my presence.
“Because I’ve been watching them for a few weeks.”
“Why?”
“To figure out what they are up to.”
“Are you a private investigator?” she asked.
“No, sweetheart,” I said, shaking my head.
I watched as her gears turned, those cornflower blue eyes keen when they pinned me again.
“Who do you work for?”
“Renzo Lombardi,” I admitted.
“Why does that sound so… oh,” she said, eyes going round as her posture stiffened. “You’re… in the mafia.”
CHAPTER FIVE
Elizabeth
The man I’d invited into my living room was a member of the mafia.
Now that was a thought I’d never imagined I’d think before. Let alone a reality I’d find myself in.
I had a mafia member sitting on my couch, drinking out of one of my coffee cups, and watching me with those lovely golden eyes that were offset by enviously thick black lashes.
Maybe if I hadn’t been so zoned out for so long I would have noticed it earlier.
I mean, just remembering how nervous and fidgety the doctor had been anytime he looked at or spoke to this man.
“I’m not going to hurt you,” Elian said as he watched me process this information.
“Isn’t that what everyone says? Right before they hurt you?” I asked.