Page 2 of Precious Hazard

Ajello simply wipes the blood off his split lip with the back of his hand. His face remains completely expressionless while he grabs my shirt again and leans into my face.

“I’ll fix this.” His words are only just audible, too low for anyone other than me to hear. “I give you my word.”

Too stunned by the earnest look on his face that implores me to trust him, I’m still processing what he said when Ajello buries his knee in my diaphragm. The force of his strike sends me stumbling back.

“Get lost, DeVille,” he barks. “And do as you’ve been told.”

Struggling to draw air into my lungs, I stare at Ajello in confusion. I’m fairly certain the dick just broke one or two of my fucking ribs. With him being a member of the don’s personal security, I’m not the least bit surprised by his protection of the old man. But if he’s carrying out his duty, why is there a strange look in his usually stolid depths? Why are they blazing at me, but not in anger? There’s an almost reverent plea in the normally cold depths. One utterly at odds with his ready-to-fight stance.

A barely-there movement of his mouth attracts my attention, but no sound leaves Ajello as we continue our blatant standoff. He repeats the motion. Much slower this time, allowing me to read his lips.

Trust me.

I’ve never seen Ajello show any measure of care for another person, but as he regards me with his back turned to the room full of snakes, I realize what that look in his eyes is.

Concern.

For me.

Can I trust him? This weird, unemotional guy? Despite being only a year older than me, he makes men twice our age wary because of this freakishness. Why the fuck would he give a shit about me, or my sisters? It doesn’t make any fucking sense.

My gaze sweeps over the men gathered around the room. Most of them have their hands on their weapons, ready to kill me on the spot if I make one wrong move. Even if I get past Ajello, it would mean nothing. Someone will drop me for my insubordination before I ever get close to the don. Taking a deep breath, I lock gazes with Ajello again.

I have no choice but to trust him.

I nod.

“Go.” He gives me a nod in return.

While my ribs scream in agony, I straighten and leave the room. Desperately clinging to a slim hope that he’ll keep his promise.

Chapter 1

Present day

Salvatore Ajello’s office, New York

(Arturo, age 36; Tara, age 24)

“So?” Ajello asks, lounging in his armchair across from me. “Do you have anything to say?”

I glance at the stemware in my hand, rotating it, watching crimson liquid swirl and splash on the inside. The faint traces of wine left clinging to the bowl remind me of blood.

I’ve bled for our cause more times than I can count. During drug deals gone wrong. Gang skirmishes. Confrontations with rival organizations. I don’t regret a single drop. I’ve always known what I signed up for. The blood I spilled for Cosa Nostra hasn’t been wasted. Today, though, I might end up bleeding because of my pure stubbornness.

“I do.” I bring the glass to my lips and take a sip. “I am not marrying Tara Popov, boss.”

Ajello’s right eyebrow rises ever so slightly. That must be the most significant show of emotion I’ve seen him display in years. Excluding his behavior around his wife and daughter, of course. After knowing him for more than two decades, I’m still not entirely sure he’s actually human.

People believe that Salvatore Ajello is psychotic, but he’s not. What he is is a man who doesn’t concede the middle ground. It’s all or nothing with him. He might think of me as a friend. Maybe? Who can tell with Ajello? But I do know that he’d take a bullet for me. Without a second thought.

None of that holds any sway in his decision regarding my current situation, though. He’stheDon of New York, and I have just refused to follow his direct order. Killing me for insubordination would be perfectly justifiable.

“Why not?” Ajello’s brows pinch together, creasing his forehead. “Drago’s sister may be a little high-spirited, but I’m confident you two would make a perfect match.”

“Alittlehigh-spirited? The woman tried to take my head off with a tray of appetizers. If her brother hadn’t thrown her over his shoulder and hauled her away, I’d have strangled that psycho right where she stood.”

“My point exactly. You need that kind of challenge, Arturo.”