Page 108 of Mob Princess

“Ewan, get me the info or get off the phone, so I can find it.”

“Fine. Hang on.”

I raise my arm and get a cab driver’s attention.

“I got a cab. I need to know where I’m going.” I changed my mind about getting my car. This is faster.

He rattles off an address, and I know where it is. It’s not too far from my college campus. Higher rent area than I expected a stripper to afford. Shane filled me in a little more about Lucy, but barely anything at all. Just that she was a dancer at a couple of their clubs, and she always stayed out of Sean’s way—and Shane’s since she usually couldn’t tell them apart at a distance—whenever one of them was there. She fucked Sean for more than a year and couldn’t tell him apart from Shane. I already can, and I haven’t known either of them that long. It’s more than the freckle.

I know how Sean stands. It’s not the same as Shane. It’s subtle, but Shane rests his weight forward on his feet, like he’s ready to pounce. Sean rests his weight evenly, like he’s going to take a stand. Sean tends to put both hands in his pockets, whereas Shane only puts his right hand in his. Shane is content to only feel one of his knives when he thinks he might need them. Sean likes to have both in his hand, ready to draw.

When Sean laughs, his right eye narrows slightly more than the left. It’s the reverse on Shane. They are mirrors of each other, so that makes sense to me. Shane’s quicker to smile, but Sean will smile longer. I think these are traits their family recognizes whether they’ve considered them or not. They stand out to me because I’m still getting to know them. But once I realized these few things, it made it impossible to confuse one for the other.

“Thank you.” I pay the driver and slip out. I didn’t want this ride recorded in my app.

“This is a mistake, Nik.”

Ewan’s been prattling off and on the entire ride from Queens to Manhattan. We haven’t argued because he doesn’t want the driver to hear us any more than I do. But he repeats himself about getting my grandfather involved. He’s even threatened to get my mom involved. That got him a response in French he learned when we were kids. I knew a few swear words he didn’t.

“Ewan, you can stay on the phone with me if you want. I’m putting my phone in my pocket, though.”

“You better not fucking hang up, Nicolina. I will call Sean’s entire family if I hear you make one sound of distress.”

“I know. Now shut up. I just got into her building.”

I notice the cameras in the lobby, so I keep my face turned away from them. There’s a guy at the desk, so I scan the names on the mailboxes across from him. Then I hold up my keys.

“Hi. Tara Millingham sent me over to grab some documents she left in her place this morning. She told me where they’ll be, so I’m just going to pop up and down. If I don’t hurry to get back to the office, I’m screwed.”

I’m assuming Tara works in an office. There’s a flyer sticking out of the box that has T. & L. Millingham written on it. The flyer’s addressed to her. It’s for a corporate retreat. I don’t slow as I go past the desk, making a beeline for the elevators like I belong there. I spotted their names because it was right next to L. Leonard. Lucy.

I get on the elevator with no problems. I slide my phone out halfway and wake the screen. The call is still active. I scan the hallway as I get off and notice there are no security cameras. I hike my dress up enough to pull my gun from the holster. I considered taking it off at Breda and Rowan’s. I’m glad I kept it strapped to me. I find her door and knock. It’s not loud and demanding. I’m not pounding on it. But it is purposeful.

I take the safety off, keeping the gun next to my right thigh as I angle myself more to the left side of the doorway. It’ll be harder for a bullet to hit me, but it’ll also put Lucy right in front of me and indefensible if I shoot. I have my head turned just enough, so she can see my profile but not my full face if she looks through the spyhole. I hear the latch move and the bolt turn. When the door opens, I tilt my head enough to see the woman who answered clearly. It’s her.

My left hand goes for her throat as I raise the gun. I shoulder the door open wider as I push her backwards into the apartment. I kick the door shut. I move the gun to her forehead as I release her throat and reach back to lock the door. I shouldn’t without knowing we’re alone. But I’m not giving her an opportunity to escape. My hand wraps back around her throat and squeezes as hard as I can. She tries to pry my hand loose. She kicks and flails. She can’t headbutt me because the pistol is still pressed to her forehead.

I let go and shove her backwards. “I can squeeze the life out of you if I want to make it agonizingly slow. Or I can put a bullet through your pretty face. Either way, I won’t hesitate to kill you if I don’t get what I want. You know who I am. You’re scared, but you’re not confused.”

“You’re Sean’s new sub.”

“I am not. I’m Sean’s girlfriend.”

“He doesn’t date.”

“We aren’t dating. We don’t need to go out on agreed upon days at agreed upon times. We’re together too much to need that. We go to breakfast because we wake up together. We have dinner together because we go to bed together. We hang out with his family because he’s made me one of them.”

We’ll see if that’s true if I survive this.

“He commanded you. He fucked you. He walked away from you. For once, two out of three ain’t bad. He’s coming home to me.”

“He’s already dead.”

“Nope. Try again.” I pray she isn’t right.

“He will be soon enough.”

“Nope. His family’s on their way.” To hell? Maybe one day. But not on their way to Sean yet.

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