Page 56 of Vicious Behaviors

“This is a public street,” I say calmly. “I can park wherever I like. There’s no law against that.”

“Technically, you’re right,” he says, voice calm, “but the restaurant’s owner just bought the adjoining properties, and they’ve got no interest in loiterers. Especially ones who’ve been sitting out here long enough to be noticed.” He cocks his head. “So, unless you’re here to eat or shop, I’d rethink your parking spot.”

I’m two seconds from flashing my badge and ending this nonsense when the restaurant door opens, and out walks Marcello, phone in hand, still wearing that three-piece suit that makes sin look like a religion.

My brows knit. Marcello never takes calls during lunch with his mother. Suspicion creeps up my spine and anchors in my chest.

Does he know? Has he known I’ve been tailing him this entire time? Does he suspect that I’m an undercover federal agent?

No. He can’t know. This has to be a coincidence. But if I flash my badge to this cop and he sees it from across the street, then he’ll definitely know for sure.

Fuckity-fuck-fuck-fuck!

“Miss, care to show me your license and registration?” the cop asks, holding out his hand.

“Of course, officer,” I grumble, grabbing my documents from the glove compartment.

He glances them over and nods. “Thank you. Everything seems to be in order. Now move the car or I’ll be forced to fine you for loitering.”

“Yes, sir.” I smile, tight and bitter. As he turns back toward his patrol car, I pause with the key halfway in the ignition and ask, “Officer, one question.” Thankfully, he turns. “Do you know who bought these establishments?”

He huffs. “Who do you think? Same people who own half of Chicago. The Romanos.”

My stomach drops instantly. I swallow hard as I look across the street and find Marcello still standing there, his phone lowered now, a smug little smile tugging at his lips as he ends the call.

No. No fucking way. There’s no possible way he knew I’d be here. No way he would have gone through all the trouble of buying property on both sides of the street, just to catch me in the act. Right?

Those are the lies I feed myself as I pull out and drive home. Because I know what comes next. After his lunch, he’ll pick up Annemaria. And when he’s with her, I always end up losing him anyway. The man is paranoid. And now he’s making me paranoid.

Ugh. It’s official. Idespisethis man.

“Stella!” I wave to Marcello’s sister the second she walks into the gym later that night.

She’s all smiles, dressed in skintight black leather pants and a cropped top that leaves nothing to the imagination. It’s mid-February, and Chicago is deep in its usual winter mood. Gray skies, snow piling up in gutters, and a biting wind that cuts through even the thickest coats. Still, the cold doesn’t seem to bother her.

She peels off her leather jacket and tosses it toward Rico, who catches it with a grin.

“Hi,” she says brightly. “Sorry, I was such a brute this morning. I’m not exactly what you’d call a morning person.”

“I figured as much. I’m just glad you came. Carmine will be thrilled.”

“Is he here?” she asks, peering past me toward his office.

“He just ran out to grab something to eat, but I’m sure he’ll be back any minute now.”

“Then I guess I’d better go change.” She smirks, swinging her duffel bag over her shoulder and heading toward the locker room.

Unfortunately, she doesn’t make it far, since the bane of my existence steps into her path with an immediate scowl. “What are you doing here, Stella?” Marcello asks.

“What does it look like? I came to train with Izzie.”

His frown deepens as he turns his glare on me with disdain and distrust. He then grabs Stella’s arm and pulls her into a secluded corner of the gym. I’m too far away to hear what he’s saying, but I suspect it’s some variation of Marcello warning Stella to stay away from me.

I start casually walking the gym floor, pretending to check equipment while drifting closer.

“Mar, you know I love you, right?” Stella says, resting a hand on his shoulder. “So hear me out because what I’m about to say comes entirely from a place of love. You, dear brother, need to get laid. Like, immediately. Preferably today.”

“This isn’t a joke, Stella.”