Page 3

Present

I watch as he swings aside a painting that hides a safe. He presses his thumb against the bio-metric pad and retrieves a wad of cash from it. He slides the money into an envelope and hands it to me.

“Thanks,” I say and tuck it in my purse. He stares a moment too long in my direction. The scrutiny makes me uncomfortable, so I turn away and head onto the balcony. Each step I take, my heels make a harsh metallic noise, like little hammers on marble.

Standing on the balcony, my back to him, staring out at the ocean and sandy beach, I let myself falter in my capabilities.

I wasn’t sure I could pull this off. What did I understand about this world I’d thrust myself into?

What difference could one person make? Orange and gold smeared the sky with late setting sun.

Two rows of palms line the driveway to the East. The balconies line all back windows of the enormous and ostentatious house.

I suck in a breath and nearly choke on the thick humid air.

From the corner of my eye, Leonardo wipes his neck with a soda can.

He’s so crass. Always fighting to fit into this life. Everything about him is repulsive.

“The heat is atrocious today,” he says. I nod.

His dark, freshly pressed suit masks the obvious realities of his line of work.

A dangerous buzz hovers around him and it does nothing to ease my stomach.

I had been dragged out with some girls last night on a tour of the clubs, so I felt like trash when I was suddenly woken by my phone on my nightstand.

Exhaustion is a serious condition and doesn’t play well with duty.

And duty had called bright and early.

Leonardo closes the short distance between us. I’ve waited patiently for years now and I’m so close, but that also means I’m vulnerable. One wrong move and I could be six feet under.

“As a Testa, you’ve got a moral duty, and you did good today, Evany.

You’ve got that mercilessness gene in your DNA.

” I roll my shoulders back, tits up, trying to convey pride at his words though I feel none.

Leonardo Testa has probably been underestimated all his life.

I won’t make that mistake. “I’m going to make you a one-time offer.

There’ll be no questions, no discussion, and no negotiation.

When I’m done talking, I only want to hear one of two words out of you; yes or no. Just one of those words.”

This is how professionals work. In demands. I fight the urge to roll my eyes.

“I have a job for you.”

“I already have a job,” I say.

Leonardo grabs my wrist. “I told you to keep quiet. I told you to not speak until I finished.”

“Yes, Uncle,” I say.

In this world, you don’t get to become what you want, you become what they want.

Defense is key. If you can’t defend yourself, no one will do it for you, and as a woman in this world, a princess, a mob princess, I know better than to open my mouth out of turn unless it’s to eat.

Women in this family cannot afford to look weak.

Leonardo’s on a tirade now, rambling on about love, ambition and loyalty.

The same words he always jams down my throat. It doesn’t bother me anymore.

I understand my uncle.

“So what have you got for me to do?” I ask, donning a saccharine smile. I watch as condensation stipples the sides of the soda can he holds and notice for the umpteenth time the nub on his left hand where his ring finger used to be.

“We deal in swift, lethal justice. We are the judge and jury. Three bullets to the back so he can still have an open casket. No one escapes this. No one gets away.” I can and I will, I think. “Danza’s, Wednesday at nine. Roberto Leonetti.”

Instinct makes me pull my chin toward my chest. That’s a big hit.

One that could start a war. Especially after what I did to Viggo Scarfo, Sal Scarfo’s only son.

It’s as if Uncle Leo is looking for a meeting of The Commission.

Not that I’m opposed. It provides me with an opportunity I wouldn’t normally have.

“Vegas?” I ask.

“Evany,” he snaps, rolling his eyes at my talking out of turn, but I don’t care. I glare at him. “Justice for Luca and Stefano.”

Stefano was a dick, but my cousin Luca was kind. He didn’t belong in this shitty underworld we’re a part of and his death hurt—really hurt. The death of both my cousins is a direct result of the actions taken by the Leonetti family.

I don’t let much hurt me anymore.

He grips both my shoulders. “Yes. Or do you like Mr. Leonetti?” Is it my imagination or does my uncle sound a little jealous?

“He’s always been warm,” I say carefully. Men make things so complicated. Am I supposed to like Leonetti better than him? Is this some kind of test? A hit that high up the food chain could be a test.

“Can you do the job?” he asks, squeezing tightly.

“Yes,” I answer without hesitation. The word hangs in the air between us uncomfortably for a moment, and in that flash, I think perhaps it was a test—one I failed. But then Uncle grins and releases me.

“He’s just an ordinary man, capable of the extraordinary.”

He heads back inside, and following on his heels I say, “Whatever you’re up to, I don’t trust it.”

“You’re panicking because you’re being asked to destroy a life, but the moment you remove emotions from the action, you will be fine.” He waves a hand dismissively in the air at me.

The study door flies open with force, and my Aunt saunters in.

Her hair is overdone—stiff as a board. Her cleavage so deep that nothing is left to the imagination.

She looks like a Vegas showgirl—and for all I know she could have been one before they met.

Or hell, when they met. She’s constantly trying too hard to look respectable.

Affluent. Controlled. But she always misses the mark.

“More like we follow a set of custom-made moral codes,” I say.

Uncle Leo stops dead in his tracks and spins on the soles of his expensive leather shoes to face me. His posture shifts more erect. Leaning in close, he whispers harshly, sending his breath skittering across my face.

“Get the fucking job done clean and stop running your mouth.”

I inhale slowly to steady myself. “Yes, Sir.”