Page 39 of The Don's Undercover Lover

I did not expect to see him here, and the way he’s sitting, leaning back against the bench, his one leg crossed over the other while his hand rests on the edge of the backbench casually makes my heart race. I quickly lift my hand to my hair, and push back some strands behind my ears.

He’s looking so damn handsome, with that perfect messy hair falling over his forehead and I didn’t even bother to look at myself in the mirror.

“Your hair is perfect,” he says, pointedly, seeing right through me. I blush and shake my head. Why does this man have such an effect on me?

“What are you doing here?” I ask, trying to throw him off the idea that I’m worried about how I look.

"Sometimes, when everything becomes too much, I come up here to clear my head," Dario admits, his eyes scanning the horizon. "It helps me remember that there's more to life than the business I'm in."

“So I assume you didn’t have a good day?”

Dario sighs and pats the empty space next to him. I walk over and sit. The bench is small and though I try not to, my hips are in contact with his, and neither of us try to edge away. My skin burns through my jeans, feeding off the little touch, yearning for more.

“So, what happened?” I ask.

“I was about to come down and see you, talk to you,” he admits. So, Dario Marchetti wants to talk to me after a bad day. My heart flutters in every direction and honestly, I feel honored. “My father wanted me to handle an arms negotiation today, for the first time.”

“Really?” squeak, almost like a cheerleader. Dario breaks into a grin and raises an eyebrow. I force myself to put on a serious frown and purposely lower the octave of my voice. “So, why is that a bad thing?”

This time around, my voice comes out deep, fake. Dario lowers his too and in a mock-up to mine, states “Well, because I had to negotiate with the new Don Bonanno. The deal is with Frank.”

I don’t know whether to whack his arm for making fun of my voice, or to acknowledge this curveball he threw my way. So I do both. I whack him on his arm and ask, “Frank Bonanno is Don? Did you close the deal?”

“I would have, if we hadn’t been interrupted by a sniper’s bullet.”

I stare at him, aghast. “You could have lead with that. A sniper?” My voice quivers.

Dario looks at me with a jerk, his gray eyes calming the storm in mine. “No one was hurt,” he says. “And the sniper only took one shot. Through the window.”

"He only shot once?" I try to clear my thoughts out loud. Based on all the training I’ve received at the academy, it is highly unlikely that a sniper would not attempt a second shot if the first one missed its mark.

"If he didn’t hit anyone and only shot once, maybe it wasn’t a sniper at all, maybe it was someone trying to leave a message?"

Dario shakes his head. "I don’t think so," he says. "I think he was interrupted. I saw a figure…"

"The Ghost?" I gasp.

"I think it was The Ghost who stopped the sniper."

We sit in silence for a few moments. "I think we can trust him,"

"I’m inclined to believe the same."

I break into a small smile. Finally he’s on board with what I’ve already believed to be true since last night.

"So, who do you think sent the sniper? Or should we start with the more important question, who was the sniper after?" I ask, out of curiosity.

"My father accused Frank."

"No way,” I shake my head with conviction. "Frank Bonanno seems too calculating. He wouldn’t risk getting caught in the crossfire. And from a business point, it makes little sense to kill off your business partner before the deal is signed."

"Exactly what I thought," Dario nods. "I just needed to hear someone else say it." Now he smiles because we are in agreement.

I nod and look ahead at the lights flickering amongst the plants, allowing Dario time to calm his thoughts.

"Jasmine, have you ever contemplated the sacrifices each of us makes for the lives we choose to lead?" Dario asks as he leans back further, his fingers grazing my left shoulder, his eyes fixed on the cityscape. There's a vulnerability in his voice that I haven't heard before.

"Of course," I reply, allowing my guard to lower slightly. "But sometimes, I wonder if the sacrifices are worth it."

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