Page 22 of King of Deception

And then we had a brief exchange.

“Black pepper. Well done!” Abel responded to my guess, and I chuckled, acknowledging his condescending tone with a meaningful look that only he could understand.

“So, do you wanna go someplace?” Steve offered as if Abel wasn’t standing next to us, and all of the alarms in my head went off. That was exactly the sort of thing that Jude would say if he had wanted to get me alone.

Quickly, I shook my head in an unsure gesture as my eyes went to Abel for help. He must have picked up my vibe because he immediately raised his eyebrows. “Oh, by the way? Mr. Bianchi sends his regards. He said he’s gonna be here in thirty.”

“Bianchi?” Steve dipped his chin, staring at Abel with sharp eyes. “As in… Martin Bianchi?” The finger by his nose began to nervously scratch it as he turned to me. “You know Martin Bianchi.”

Widening my eyes, I twisted the corners of my lips and hastily nodded. “U—Erm—Totally!”

“Okay?” he furrowed his eyebrows, turning to Abel once again and examining him. “Martin fucking Bianchi.” He shifted to leave, shaking his head. “Jeez, and she told me she came alone!” he mumbled.

Acting dumb, Abel shrugged and shook his head as we both watched Steve practically disappear into thin air. In disbelief, I turned to him. “Okay… Thank you, I guess?”

“Yeah,” he squeezed his eyes shut, “you don’t wanna be mixed up with him.”

“I don’t?”

“Too much drama.” He continued to shake his head.

“And who’s Martin—”

“Bianchi? Only rumored to have a connection to a certain Italian family here in New York.” He winked.

I whispered, clearly enunciating, “The mob?”

“Shush!” He playfully held up a finger.

“Oh my God, Abel!” I squealed. “Now he’s gonna go running his mouth all over the place, and everyone will be too intimidated to talk to me!”

He started to chuckle so much that he quaked the tray, spilling colored drinks all over it. When he was finally done, I had my hands on my waist, waiting for an explanation as flames shot out of my eyes.

“Okay, first of all? Steve’s a crackhead. You’d sooner find him in the toilet than ‘running his mouth’ anywhere.”

“Oh,” I gave him a suspicious look.

“Secondly? We’re surrounded by some of New York’s richest, most powerful individuals. Half of them are already in bed with Bianchi, and the other half? They wanna play nice.”

I wrinkled my eyebrows, pointing in the direction Steve had disappeared into. “Then why did he…?”

“Because his ex-fiancée had Bianchi’s favorite stripper attacked. From what I heard? A broken leg and three bruised ribs.”

“Oh my God!” I couldn’t help but hold my hand up to my lips. “Why do you know—No, how do you know all this?”

“Let’s just say that I’ve been running in these circles for what feels like an eternity.”

Taking a step back, I examined his suit from the hems up. It was certainly nicer than the ones worn by all the other waiters, despite the fact that they still matched. “How long exactly? By the way you keep wasting your paid time here, I’m surprised they call you back for work.”

Pulling back in forged shock, he narrowed his eyes. “You’re ruthless!”

“And you talk too much.”

“Are you like that with your accountant friends?”

“Unlike you, I don’t go to work to make friends. I go there to kill it and get promoted.”

His smile widened into a grin as he approvingly nodded, “Way to go, Ella!”

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