Page 18 of Under His Embrace

He studied me again, that brooding and solemn expression so stark on his face as he shut the water off. Keeping me waiting for a reply, he focused on grabbing towels and continuing to be attentive. While he didn’t dry me off, he took his time wrapping me in the towel and looking me over, as though he needed to constantly reassure himself that I was here, in the flesh, and not his imagination.

“Franco? Will you and Romeo keep me here?” I didn’t want to ask for how long. If he thought to secure me here for good, that would be kidnapping. While I knew he was in the Mafia and the Constellas weren’t above performing that crime, I needed to know why they would need me any further.

“Now that I’ve answered your questions…”

He grunted. “You’re that anxious to run away again?”

I swallowed and broke eye contact, intimidated to admit that yes, I was. His affiliation with the Constella Family was always a main point of contention between us. My parents never approved of Franco back when we dated, and they’d be pissed to know that we’d reconnected despite the circumstances. I’d struggled against the prejudice of Franco being in the Mafia for so long. I knew that his actions toward me could never be somethingheconsidered as himself, but as a dutiful member of the Mafia.

“Look at it this way, Chloe,” he said as he walked back into the room to get dressed. He pointed at the clean clothes someone had dropped off, gesturing for me to use them if I wanted to instead of putting on the clothes he’d taken off me in a hurry. They lay scattered on the floor. While they were mine and I didn’t want to be indebted to Franco or the Constellas, Irefused to put them back on. They were too stark of a reminder of the bloodbath I’d narrowly escaped.

“You’re in the witness protection program.”

“Yourversion of it,” I clarified.

“Something like that.” He finished dressing and crossed his arms as he looked me over. Still clad in a towel, I felt underdressed and vulnerable. As though that one quick fuck was not nearly enough to scratch the surface of how much I’d missed him.

“Because you witnessed a crime committed against the Constella Family?—”

I gaped at him. “Manny and Suzie were just the managers of the neighborhood deli!”

“Which is in a building owned by the Constellas.”

I rolled my eyes. “So you take anything as a turf war?”

“A building,” he continued despite my snark, “where we hosted different operations in the basement level.”

I cringed. “What… kind of operations?” I felt sick, worried that they tortured people down there or deposited bodies… I slapped my hand over my mouth and gasped.

“What?” He frowned. “Do you remember something else? You shouldn’t have ever been allowed down there as a new-hire deli worker.”

“Please tell me that dead people weren’t stored in any of the walk-in freezers or fridges.”

He rolled his eyes. “No. The basement was used for packaging.”

I narrowed my eyes and waited for more.

“Of products. Like drugs. Not bodies.”

I exhaled in relief. “I… I was never in the basement.”

“As you shouldn’t have been. Manny wouldn’t have slipped up. He was well aware that the deli was a cover business.”

Slumping to sit on the edge of the bed, I felt weary of these details. I was so sick of struggling with life, and now I had to come to terms that my new job that was supposed to have been a restart on life was just a cover-up for a drug packaging operation.

“A crime happened on Constella property. We can’t determine why, nor can we determine who could have done it.”

I tensed, trying to look like his words didn’t impact me. But they did. He might not have a clue, but I had my suspicions. Remaining quiet, I stared at him and willed him to say his piece and go.

“What?” He stared at me, noticing that I clammed up. Try as I might, I couldn’t fool him. He was too damn observant, especially, I figured, where I was concerned. Back when we were in love, he’d made it his mission to memorize every inch of me, inside and out. He knew my body, but he had a damn good idea of how my mind worked too.

“Nothing.”

“Why’d you hesitate?”

I sighed. “I’m just sitting here.”

“And anxious to run away again.”

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