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CHAPTER FIVE

Mya

I looked at my reflection in the wall-to-wall glass mirrors that lined the hallway of the historical mansion that was hosting the evening’s charity event.

My long red dress was backless, so I was cold and slightly uncomfortable, but it was the only suitable dress I had found at the thrift store on short notice.

Luckily for me, I had decided to wear my hair down, so that kind of warmed me up. Kind of.

I had to admit, as I checked my reflection, that I looked good tonight. I was having a good hair day for sure. My hair had come out perfectly and the delicate waves fell down my back beautifully.

The YouTube makeup tutorial had given me exactly the kind of old-world elegance makeup job I had been going for. I totally looked like I fit in.

To complete the look, I had put on a pair of heels that were murder on my feet and slipped on a pair of earrings that my mother had given me before she died.

Costume jewelry, but it still counted as elegant jewelry in my head. Unless one looked closely, you couldn’t tell that they were very tastefully made cubic zirconium.

I felt like an imposter. Shit, I was an imposter. I was there to kill, not to make a donation to the cause.

The only reason I had been able to get invited to the charity event was because I used to do pro bono work for one of the foundations that was run by Nico’s family, the di Ceccos. In fact, rumor had it, his family was hosting the event.

The di Ceccos donated to causes all over the city, but outside of Nico and a few of his cousins, not much was known about the family at all. I’d done my own research and came up with zilch. They were a very private family, apparently. They were never photographed or in the media.

It would be in bad taste for Nico to show up, given that he had just gotten out of prison, but something told me he would.

He was a narcissistic piece of shit. I was willing to bet my life that he would show tonight.

I scanned the room, looking for him. As I looked around, I couldn’t help but notice the beauty around me. There were large stained-glass windows behind and in front of me.

Smooth arched columns lined exterior walls and women dressed to the nines gathered in small circles to gossip with one another. Gingerly, I approached the makeshift bar, thinking I needed a little liquid courage.

I felt out of my element. Gold accents were everywhere, from the light fixtures to the doorstops. Even the low-hanging lamps were gold in color, looking like small, hand-carved tree trunks spun from gold.

Large globe lights were placed strategically around the ceiling, adding just enough illumination to make the backdrop of the mansion seem mysterious and yet somehow magical.

I was on the second floor looking down at the new arrivals. No matter how uncomfortable I felt, I knew I at least looked like a million bucks.

Taking my drink, I stopped a waiter carrying a tray of appetizers and helped myself to what looked like a mini quiche. I hated quiche but I needed to do something with my hands.

I gulped down my drink and the quiche in record time. Then I people-watched, my back up against a wall, just waiting for Nico to pass by.

Unable to help myself, I touched my throat. I was wearing not only the earrings my mom gave me, but her locket, too. I needed both tonight to stay strong.

I thought of her frequently. I missed her every day. I carried the locket she had given me on my tenth birthday everywhere.

Her death had been devastating. Part of me knew that her death was what had shaped this moment.

Would I be there, at the charity event, plotting to kill someone, if I had been capable of moving on? First, my mother and then Jason. Fate wasn’t fair. Life wasn’t fair.

And I was there to balance the playing field…even if it meant dying. I paused…I was prepared to die, wasn’t I?

I’d noticed the security at the event. They tried to look invisible but they were far from it. Their guns bulged underneath their suit jackets.

They looked competent and I was sure they were good at their job. I doubted they would even hesitate to shoot me.

I swallowed hard. I couldn’t think about the aftermath. There would always be consequences. I was ready to face them.

“We meet again.”

That voice. The timber and pitch sent chills down my spine. I turned around slowly until my eyes settled on his. Deep and gray.

Dario. What was he doing here?

It was unfair that he was so attractive in his dark tuxedo that fit his body to perfection. Even in my heels, he towered over me, making me feel small, yet feminine in his presence.

Speaking of his presence, he unnerved me. The first time I saw him I felt drawn to him. Something about him was mysterious, brooding and appealing to me on a primal level. Everything about him screamed danger, but I couldn’t look away.

Those gorgeous eyes, the dark hair that I wanted to run my fingers through, and that mouth, goodness, the man had the most kissable lips. I had thought the same thing the first time I met him, outside of his house with my car in the ditch.

At that time, I had been embarrassed by my sudden attraction to this stranger and had tried to appear indifferent and aloof, but there was no denying that I felt something when I looked at him. And when he looked at me, it was like he looked through me, to my very essence.

Yes, it was unnerving, and strangely also a turn-on.

I felt embarrassed by my thoughts. Sex hadn’t been in the equation for me since Jason. I had no desire, no interest, and then Dario only had to look at me, and my thoughts went down that path.

It was only natural, right? It wasn’t as if Jason had been the only man in my life. After we broke up, I had a lot of “revenge” sex, making my way through a few guys, thinking that I could bang my way through some dudes to forget about Jason.

And that I could forget about my mom’s death by running with the wrong crowd that didn’t care if I lived or died. I drowned my days in booze, sex, and whatever vices I could find.

Then Jason had shown up at the jail and helped me to find purpose again. Now I was lost again. He had grounded me. Without him, I felt alone.

But Dario could change that.

The weight of the gun in my purse made me self-conscious as I eyed the man in front of me. What was he doing here?

“Are you following me?” he asked with a cocky tilt of his upper lip—just a hint of a smile.

Something about his smile was slightly dangerous and his steely eyes had a glint of coldness. He looked like he was always calculating, the type of guy who knew your thoughts before you knew your own. I was drawn to him, but I didn’t want to be.

I didn’t have time for romance. Not that he seemed the romance type. As I silently appraised him, I would say he was the type to fulfill a girl’s fantasy, the type to slowly torture her with really good sex, and then leave her in the morning.

Maybe that’s what I needed.

What was I thinking? I wanted to shake sense into myself. I couldn’t have sex on the brain at a time like this. What was wrong with me? There was just something about him. I chalked it up to my mind being overrun with emotions. My life was a mess. I was a mess.

And there was only one way to bring it all back into focus. I had to kill the person who’d stolen everything from me. I had to kill Nico.

Focus, Mya.

To the intimidating sexy man in front of me, I said, “You flatter yourself.”

He smiled, fully then, and I caught my breath. Even his smile was a temptation. He took a glass of champagne from a waiter who passed close by. “Not drinking tonight?”

“What gave me away? The lack of drink in my hand?”

“Sarcasm doesn’t suit you.”

Who was he to judge me? Feeling prickly, I said, “Really? Then what does?”

“I don’t know. I’m still trying to figure that out. But maybe you should try filtering what you say before you say something you’ll regret.”

I placed my hand on my hip. “Is that your way of saying that I’m not being a proper little lady? That I should keep my mouth shut?”

“I would never say that.”

“Really?”

“Who am I to tell you what to do with your mouth?”

I couldn’t help the images that his seemingly innocent words suggested.

I couldn’t unsee it now. His lips on mine, my body under his, him spreading my legs, thrusting into me.

At that moment, someone bumped into me. “My apologies,” they mumbled. My purse brushed up against my hip.

The heaviness of the gun inside reminded me that I wasn’t there to entertain thoughts of sex with a stranger. I had bigger fish to fry.

“Enjoy your evening, um….what was your name again?”

He didn’t look pleased with me as he growled, “Dario.”

“Yes, Dario, enjoy your evening.”

I knew he was seething as I walked away. My error had been deliberate. I couldn’t have him throw me off my game.

The party was taking place in an old mansion that was now a historic building in the heart of downtown. From upstairs, I could see a dance floor that was occupied by a few couples.

So far there was no sign of Nico. I made my way delicately down the stairs, careful not to slip on the long train of my dress.

Scanning the crowd, I caught my breath when I saw Nico, his arm around a hot blonde who looked to be at least ten years his junior.

“Mya!” said a voice behind me.

I turned around, shocked that someone had called out my name. To my surprise, there was a man standing there whose son I had worked with many years ago at a shelter where he ended up after a hard time.

He embraced me and kissed both my cheeks. “I’m delighted that you’re here tonight!”

“How’s Raj doing, Mr. Chandras?”

“Brilliant! He’s gotten a job as a chef. He’s always doing those pop-up restaurants around…”

I was no longer listening. I caught sight of Nico and it seemed as if he were leaving.

“Mr. Chandras, it was good seeing you again. Give my best to Raj, but I have to leave. My apologies.”

Without waiting for a reply, I went in the direction of where Nico had disappeared. There was no sign of him. Feeling dejected, I made my way across the dance floor, where I ran into Dario yet again.

“Where are you off to in such a hurry?”

“I’m heading home,” I said tightly. I wasn’t in the mood to talk, no matter how attractive I found him. Nico had gotten away.

He moved closer to me, blocking my way. “How about you reconsider?”

He reached forward and before I knew it, he had an arm wrapped around my waist as he pulled me up to him and onto the dance floor.

I resisted the urge to push away, not wanting to cause a scene. He pulled me closer, inappropriately so, but I didn’t protest.

How long had it been since anyone held me in their arms?

I felt the tension leave my body as his hand landed just above my waist to rest on the small of my back. His touch felt like fire as he rocked me gently across the dance floor.

Against my better judgment, he pulled me closer, and I found myself allowing it.

For a moment, I forgot my mission. I blocked everything out and just enjoyed the moment, pretending that I belonged there, pretending that I was just like everyone else, instead of a broken version of myself.

I felt a tear escape and I laid my cheek against his chest to hide it. Keep it together, Mya.

For a moment, I just let it all go. I let go of the hate. The pain.

His hands rubbed up and down my back. It felt comforting. It felt like I belonged there.

Startled by my own thoughts, I pulled away abruptly. To my surprise, he caught me by my hand. “Running away from me again?”

I didn’t answer. I pulled my hand from his and walked away without another glance.

I prayed that he wouldn’t follow. I couldn’t deal with him now. Grumbling, I made my way across the dance floor, around the couples who belonged there. These were people who were invited, people that didn’t have murderous thoughts.

And then I saw him. It was the right place and right time. So, he hadn’t left. He was talking to a woman, a different one, then he threw back his head and laughed at something she said.

I hated the sound of it. The rage built up again.

He was moving now, toward a private balcony just off the main library. It was a restricted area, but clearly, he didn’t care. His disregard for the rules was going to be the death of him—literally.

He was lighting a cigarette and his back was turned toward me.

Now! My mind screamed.

Glancing around, I saw no one. I stepped forward into the room and reached for the gun. Pulling it from my purse, I aimed it right at the back of his head. He was only ten feet away from me. I wouldn’t miss.

This is for you, Jason.