Page 9 of Deceit For My Good Girl

"What? What do you mean? Come on, man, I told you everything." The man whimpers with the knife still pressed against the inside of his mouth.

"I know, I believe you. One more thing before I leave you for the night."

"What? I’ll do anything." The man says eagerly, ready for me to leave his space.

"The necklace you stole from her? Where is it?"

"Oh, it's in the bag. I didn't have a chance to sell it. It's all still there."

"Really? Oh, you're a good man. Thank you so much."

I pull the knife out of his mouth, and the man sighs out in relief. "Yeah, sorry about all this, the bag is over there." He points to the couch, where I can see it.

"No problem, you have a nice trip, you hear," I tell him.

"What?" He asks, confused.

Before he can figure out what's going on, I'm shoving him with all the strength I have straight through the large glass window and past the fire escape barrier. He falls the five stories down to the ground, and I hear the satisfying pop of his head as it hits the alley below.

I see a few people on the other side of the street, one of them runs over, and I wait to see if they are going to try to revive the man whose brains have already started to leak out of his head. Instead, they dig in his pockets and take his wallet.

Our little thief is going to be down there for a while. Now I need to worry about what the fuck I'm going to do about the Di Cesaro family. This wasn't supposed to happen, but now that it has, I have to make sure I can handle it without Babbo having to step in and help me.

This is my chance to prove I'm ready to come home.

Five

Melisande

I wake up to the sound of birds chirping in my window. I can smell the remnants of what used to be hot coffee, but I can tell by the way my body feels so rested that it's well past the time Xander gets up. I'll be lucky if I have a cup of lukewarm java to warm my bones.

I sit up in the bed and run my hand over my face, instantly flinching away at the pain. "Dammit!" I groan about and walk over to the bathroom. I hope it's not as bad as it feels.

I look into the mirror and am happy to see instead of a large shiner, the only part of my face that seems to be affected by the hit from last night is right above my cheekbones. There's a nasty little bruise there, but besides that, I'm okay. I guess the bastard didn't hit me as hard as I thought he did.

My hand instinctively goes up to my neck, but there's no chain there, and I feel the emotions building up inside of me. That chain meant the world to me. I spent all last night beating myself up for having it on. I should have left it somewhere safe instead of wearing it. I know that's ridiculous since I never took the damn necklace off, but I guess guilt is one way for me to deal with the loss. People will probably say at least you didn't lose your life, and that's true. I'm glad to be alive, but I hate feeling everything I had of my mother is gone. It just feels so final.

I try to push the thought out of my mind and get on with my day. I hop into the shower, and the nice hot water does a fantastic job of waking me up. I blow dry my hair and put on my best fluffy pajamas. There's no way I'm going anywhere today. I'm grateful I don't have any classes because I was definitely going to miss any lectures I had today.

I walk out into the living room to see Xander working out with his heavy bag. He had a whole exercise corner put in where the dining room is. Luckily, our apartment was so large, it doesn't mess with the ambiance of the rest of the space. I don't know exactly how much Xander's family pays for rent, but seeing as this is New York, I'm sure a place like this was in the thousands. I always ask, and he never tells me; instead, he just says things like it's nothing I need to worry about. I think that's because he knows I'll fight harder to pull my weight.

I watch him for a few seconds as he continues to throw punches and knees to the bag. He's shirtless, and the muscles and tattoos on his body are enough to have me pressing my thighs together. I may not consider him to be anything more than a friend, but his body is breathtaking. He's not my legit brother, so I don't feel bad thinking this way.

I just know nothing could ever happen between us. He only sees me as his little sister, even though I'm a grown-ass woman now. His body is corded with muscles, but he's still lean enough it's not overwhelming. His skin is a smooth tan color that never fades thanks to his Italian heritage, and it's so smooth the ink he does have on his skin looks like it was just painted on instead of imprinted with a needle.

"You finish gawking, or should I pull my sweats down too?" Xander asks as he continues to hit the bag.

"Shut up, asshole." I spit back right away. "You look like you're putting on more muscle. That's all I was looking at." I roll my eyes and plop down on the couch, getting ready to turn on Netflix and binge-watch some cooking shows. I turn my head to the right, and in the large lazy boy recliner Xander needed to buy is my purse. I do a double-take and stare at it for a second. How the hell did this get here? It was gone. The man stole it.

"Oh! Did the police find him? I can't believe it. Why didn't you wake me up?" I jump off the couch and race over to the chair to pick up my belongings.

"Yeah, sorry about that," Xander replies and finally stops hitting the large, heavy bag. He wipes a towel down his face and hangs it over his neck while I continue to rifle through my bag.

I stick my hand in the small pocket and realize my mother's necklace is there. I pull it out in disbelief and see it's indeed the same one. The chain itself is broken, but it's all here. The chain can be fixed.

"Oh my goodness! Xander look! Look!" Jumping in excitement, I show him the dainty necklace. He smirks at me, and I bask in the warmth coming off him. He's always happy to see me happy.

"The bag was brought back late last night. I thought you'd enjoy your sleep after everything. By the way, you need to call Matteo, so he can come pick up his stuff.

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