Page 15 of Black Jack (Advantage Play 5)

Them. The mafia. The bad guys.

It’s funny. Now that time has passed, I’m not sure things are quite as black and white as I’d been led to believe. They were the only ones that had my back when my world blew up. And they’re the only ones who are trying to help me fix it.

“She came around to the idea after a little while,” I rasp, praying he can’t see the sheen of sweat collecting on my hairline.

“That was convenient for you.”

“She and her brother aren’t exactly close, which I found out during my time undercover. She always tried to distance herself from her connection with the mafia and only bothered to attend events when her brother held shit over her head. She didn’t want anything to do with it, though.”

“Interesting.”

I can’t tell whether or not he believes me. His expression is stone cold and makes my pulse rival a jackhammer.

“Dominic disappeared shortly before you did,” Embry divulges. “Did she know where he went?”

I shake my head. “No. Like I said, they aren’t exactly close. We both assumed Dominic was dead or taken into custody.”

“Her record is clean,” he notes.

I smile tightly, unsure what the hell he expects me to say.

“When’s the big day?”

No freaking clue.

“Soon,” I answer.

“And will my wife and I get an invitation?”

I nearly choke on my own spit. “I’m sorry?”

“To the wedding. We’d like to attend.”

Shiiit.

Swallowing past the golf ball in my throat, I answer, “Uh, yeah. Of course.”

“Good. You’re free to go, Connelly.” He waves his hand at the door again like a fly’s in his soup. “But remember to be careful who you trust.”

I hold his knowing stare like my future depends on it.

“I will.”

6

Bianca

The sun is warm as it hangs in the sky, kissing my cheeks in a way that’s almost comforting. I’ve been here for almost thirty minutes. What the hell is taking him so long?

I drum my nails against the hood of the car before standing on my tiptoes to sneak a peek at the exit. But even my three-inch heels don’t give me the vantage point I’m looking for. Annoyed, I pull out my phone and start scrolling through the endless mind mush that people call TikTok. My lips tilt into a smile when the cute little deaf dog learns she’s going on a walk and starts dancing around the living room like it’s the happiest day of her life.

Then I frown. Because I’m jealous of a stupid dog that can’t hear.

Boots crunch against the gravel that’s spread out along the parking lot and exit of the prison, distracting me from my completely insane response to a video online.

And there he is.

“Took you long enough, Jacky Boy,” I call out.