Page 35 of Rescued By the Mafia

Carlo pressed, lightly, on Iris’s shoulder in an effort to get her to turn away. Leaving Ernesto to confront Mark on his own. He was doing his job, she knew. Just as she knew she wanted to be ushered away.

“In West Virginia,” Ernesto said, responding to Mark’s less-than-subtle threat. “You’re just a civilian here, Mark.”

Iris pulled her lip between her teeth. What if Ernesto gets hurt because of me?

Elise’s face flashed through her mind and something snapped inside her.

Iris twisted out of Carlo’s nonexistent hold and stomped forward, past her well-meaning bodyguard and up to the side of her less-approachable bodyguard, giving herself a clear view of the unremarkable man across from them. “What the hell is your problem?” She hadn’t meant to shout. She hadn’t meant to even look at him. But her chest was burning, her eyes were burning, it had to come out somehow, and she refused to cry for any of them. So she kept shouting. “You have no business here! I don’t have a damn thing to say to you, you stalker!”

“Whoa, whoa, that’s a little much,” Mark said. He held his hands up as if defending himself. “You’re the one who disappeared all of a sudden. Paul’s been—”

“He ought to have been ecstatic,” she snapped. Her teeth actually clacked as she bit the word out. “Sure, he lost his favorite punching bag, but I disappeared without him having to figure out how to hide a body. That’s a net win, right? So why don’t you go get him from whatever dive he’s day-drinking in and drag his ass back to Brody. Or anywhere else that’s far the hell away from me!”

Mark’s amicable expression faded, his arms lowered, and he took a step forward.

Ernesto moved half between them again, leaving Iris a partial line of sight, and this time he drew a gun.

Iris didn’t even realize the door had opened and closed behind her until she processed the sight of four more men—Benny included—circling around them. And Ernesto’s words from their drive over came back to her. This was what he’d meant. This was the defense he’d spoken of. This was the family.

“Wha-what the hell is all this?” Mark’s eyes were wide and he moved a step backward. He looked at her again, finally looking angry.

But Iris had seen enough. Yelling at Mark wasn’t going to make her feel better, and if this turned into a gunfight, she’d only wind up dead. So she twisted on her heels and started for the door, doing her best to at least act like she deserved all the protection she was receiving. Inside, she was shaking.

Carlo moved with her, catching the door and pulling it shut directly behind them once they crossed over. He pressed his fingertips to her back, guiding her a different way than before. “This way, ma’am,” he said quietly.

She moved willingly, knowing their destination was not where she wanted to be going. Not immediately. But they couldn’t just get in the car with Mark standing in front of it.

As if reading her mind, Carlo said, “We can’t get back in the Lexus until we’re sure it hasn’t been tampered with. Another vehicle can come pick us up if we need one, but we’ll be safe here.” He led her to a mostly unassuming door labeled Security, tapped twice, and pushed it open.

Inside was an office with a wall full of monitors displaying different views that could only be live feeds from the restaurant’s various cameras, and a single man sitting at a moderately sized desk. The desk had two more monitors, angled toward each other and facing entirely away from the doorway. The man pushed away from the desk and shouldered what Iris assumed to be an automatic weapon. “Need me outside?”

“No,” Carlo said. He ushered her into the space and again pulled the door shut. He flipped the lock and motioned between them. “Ma’am, this is Norberto. He runs security for the restaurant. Berto, this is the boss’s fiancée. She needs a safe shelter for a few minutes.”

Norberto’s dark eyes went wide and nearly dropped his gun. “R-right!” He stepped away from his chair and wheeled it forward, brushing off the seat as if the leather were dirty. “My apologies, ma’am, this is the only seat I have to offer. Please, help yourself.”

Iris couldn’t bring herself to feel bad for temporarily kicking him from his chair, so she mumbled a thank you and let herself perch. It wasn’t nearly as comfortable as Dante’s.

Carlo moved toward the wall of monitors. “Mikey should’ve emailed you a picture of a man named Bishop,” he said. “I need to know if the guy’s on property right now, or has been in the last ten minutes. I also need to know if anyone’s touched the Lexus since we got here.”

“Sure,” Berto said. He stepped into the chair-less space at his desk and started typing on the keyboard Iris couldn’t quite see. She hadn’t even seen what he’d done with his weapon. “Didn’t you come with Uncle Ernie?”

“He’s outside chasing off a pest.”

Iris’s throat constricted. She wondered if she should call Dante or wait for him to come home. He’d said he had a meeting, and though it felt like they’d talked forever ago, she didn’t think much time had actually passed since that conversation. But she wanted to talk to him. She wanted to see him.

Carlo’s stance shifted and he brought his phone to his ear. Iris hadn’t even heard it buzzing over the myriad thoughts in her head. “Hello?”

She let her gaze flick to the black and white images on the monitors, unable to concentrate.

“Yes, sir. Just a second.” Carlo crouched in front of her and held out his phone, his expression entirely patient. “For you, ma’am.”

Me? Iris unlatched her fingers, not having realized she’d even been clenching them again, and took the phone. “Hello?” Was her phone not working?

An exhale not unlike a sigh of relief preceded a voice that was not Dante’s, but did seem familiar, in her ear. “Iris, this is Romeo. Dante texted, said he’d gotten word there’s an incident and you weren’t answering your phone. He’s wrapping up a meeting so he can get to you, but in the meantime, he wanted me to check in.”

The tears rushed back to her eyes and Iris shouldered Carlo’s phone so she could fumble with her purse and dig out her own. “No, I— Well, yes, there’s—” She pulled in a breath and bit her tongue for a moment as she stared down at her own idiocy. She’d toggled the vibrate function after she’d called for her escort and hadn’t even realized it. So she hadn’t heard Dante’s call a full minute prior. “I’m okay,” she said, quieter. “I’m in the security room at the restaurant, with Carlo and Norberto. But … one of Paul’s friends is out front. He was waiting to talk to me.”

“Another deputy?” Romeo asked.

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