Page 11 of The Spare

But she sniffs, trembling as she stands near me."No!I don't even know this man, Luca!"

Her hand trembles as she brings it up to wipe her eyes again. I avert my face, not wanting to embarrass her by overtly staring.

He sighs, looking weary. "His name's Joaquin Balducci-"

"I don't care what his name is!"she cries, holding her arms folded across her stomach timidly. Her big eyes swim with tears. "How can you do this? How can you send me away knowing what I'm going through?"

He stands up, walking around the desk and turns her gently, tucking her under his arm and slowly walking her back out the way she came. Her hand skims the wall as they walk, letting me know that she's having pretty bad issues with her eyes. The security guy follows her, and the room falls silent. Leaving me and the two security guards still standing against the wall on the other side of Lucien's desk.

After a few minutes, he walks back in, tugging his suit jacket back and smoothing a hand down it as if he's in a desperate bid to pull himself back together. It's in this moment I feel for him; the human piece of me sympathizing with the human piece of him. But, I can't forgive his comment about Melody.

My eyes narrow. "No,"I say simply.

"No to what?" he tilts his head as he sits, keeping his brown-eyed gaze steady on mine.

Ignoring his question, I narrow my eyes. "Why do you want Melody?" I begin to sweat as my neck heats up.

His smile turns into something a bit sadistic. He shrugs a shoulder, sitting back in his seat. "What can I say? Didn't I just tell you I have this thing about spares?" As I stare blankly at him, understanding lights his eyes. "Ohhhh," he hums, twirling his pen in an impressive, practiced movement and points it at me."Youwant the girl."

My throat convulses on a swallow, and I fight to snatch the pen from him and shove it in his eye.

"Am I right?"

I stay silent, not sure how much to divulge here.

He leans forward, putting his hands together and bracing his elbows on the desktop. "Tell you what, you can do all your advising from New York, and there's no need for you to be heavily involved in the criminal side of things. I just need you to oversee my businesses and financial networking in the civilian world." His eyes roam my face. "This way, the girl doesn't have to be involved either.Ifyou say yes," he adds, sitting back in his seat. "However, if I take Melody, she becomes a mafia queen. She'll bear my heirs, and be heavily tied into the crime world. Forever a target. And by the look on your face, I don't see that going over too well with you."

My lips tighten. I literally didn't go into this life because I wanted to spare Melody that risk. I can't do it.

I have to accept his offer. Which is why I'm sure he played it this way.

He knew, somehow.

Biting the inside of my cheek, I hold my hand out, and when he takes it, I see a circular discolored scar three or four inches from thebase of this thumb. Frowning, I give him a firm shake and raise my eyes to his. "Someone putting cigarettes out on you?"

Lucien looks down at his hand, getting a wry look on his face before pulling his hand away. "No, just a wound from an old friend," he says curtly.

"A man friend?" I ask, arching a brow, not believing that the Lucien Scognamiglio would let a friend wound him and then wax poetic about it later in life. I hit the nail on the head apparently, because he clears his throat and leans back into his seat.

"Woman," he says dismissively, raising a brow. "You're dismissed, Mason."

I bite the inside of my cheek. There's definitely a story there. "Okay then,boss.You or one of your men will need to give me a listing of what you expect me to get started on. I can't promise the numbers; as you know, stocks are a finicky thing."

"That shouldn't be too much of a problem for you," he says, giving me another smile. Except this one has a slight warning to its curve. "You've made quite the reputation as a miracle worker in the finance game, so I'm told."

I scoff, scrubbing a hand across my jaw. "Well, don't hold me to it, friend," I say in a cheeky tone.

Lucien gets a ghost of a smile on his face but doesn't answer or move to correct me. Rather, he looks amused, and instinctively I know that there's a story there, too.

I stand up, brushing my hands down my thighs. "Well, it was great meeting you, Luca."

Not even bothering asking for next steps, I turn on my heel, making my way through the door. But before I could walk through, Luca stops me. "Oh, Mason?"

I turn as he looks up from his paper with an amused grin. "You'd make a hell of a right hand man. The way you took it in stride that I told you I wanted your woman and didn't leap across this desk at me to kill me shows strength and restraint that I could use within my inner circle. Let me know when you're ready."

Turning dismissively, I round into the hallway right as an older Italian man in his mid-fifties walks by with a set of security guards. When our eyes meet, my skin erupts in goosebumps. He looks oddly familiar, but I can't place where I've seen him before.

I shake the shiver off and keep going, sliding back in the car. The driver takes me back to the airport, and I shake my head in annoyance.