Page 17 of Texting Mr. Stranger

“You wouldn’t just say that, would you, Bella? Just because …” She sighs. “You know … the fee or whatever …”

“Never,” I say, hoping my voice sounds more shocked than angry orpissedbecause that’s what she triggers in me at this suggestion. The idea is offensive. “I’d consider it a disrespect to the craft, Sofia. Seriously. I’d rather be broke than lie to my students. Ever.”

It’s the truth. I’d find another way to keep my promise to Mom.

Sofia blinks. “Sorry, Bella. You’re right.”

“It’s a fair question,” I tell her, softening my voice, “but I promise you, I’ll never lie about your performance. I’ll never give you a false idea of how good you are, and remember,I’mnot an expert. I’m just somebody who spent a long time practicing, that’s all. I’ve still got a long way to go.”

She beams, her whole face lighting up. “Okay, great. You really are the best! I’m just going to use the bathroom if that’s okay?”

“Sure.”

As she leaves, I sense this is her way of avoiding interacting with the money. A moment later,heappears at the door—Mr. Crush. I squeeze my legs together to stop the inappropriate flutter that moves through me.

Matt is wearing a shirt with the sleeves rolled up, showing muscular forearms that make me want to drool. His eyes have that intense, serious look that makes me want to force a smile from him, a laugh. Or maybe he’ll stay like this, smoldering, his attention fixed on me.

“Ready to settle up?” he says.

“Uh, yeah,” I murmur.

He reaches into his wallet. “Was that Paganini’s ‘Caprice No. 24’ I heard?” He counts out the bills from a massive wad of cash.

“You’ve got a good ear,” I murmur.

The corner of his lip twitches, making me feel proud of making him smile. “I’m just trying to be a good big brother.”

I stand up as he approaches me. I’ve never thought about a man’s scent before, but I want to press against him and take a deep breath. I seriously need to get a grip. When I take the cash this time, I consciously try not to touch his hand.

“See you soon,” he says, turning away.

It feels like a cold, disinterested exit. This isn’t bad, considering he’s just a client and nothing more. Once they’re gone, I quickly put the money in the safe. I’ll need to head to the bank soon to make a deposit, but my restaurant shifts and teaching make it difficult.

Earlier, Emily mentioned I should quit the restaurant. I’ve already earned more from Sofia than I do as a waitress for an entire month, but that would be an incredibly reckless decision. I can’t assume this will last forever.

CHAPTER NINE

MATTEO

Isit in the upper room of La Luna Rossa, one of our many nightclubs. It’s quiet at this time of the day.

Vito “The Hammer” Rossi is to my right, a wall of muscle and dark intensity, his presence as unyielding as his grip. Across from me sits Enzo “The Whisper” Moretti, a wiry figure with a sly grin and sharp eyes, his soft voice almost always carrying vital information.

To Vito’s left is Marco “The Ghost” Mancini, a lean, pale man who moves unseen and strikes without warning. Finally, Salvatore “The Lion” Di Carlo, with his commanding presence and fierce gaze, exudes a raw power that makes him both respected and feared.

Elio walks in and leans against the wall with his arms crossed, his wild hair hanging down almost across his eyes. It’s like he does it intentionally to differentiate himself from the rest of us, who are more classical Italian.

“Nice of you to join us,” I say.

“Sorry, bro. I had to pick up a big shipment of TNT from the docks. You know how it is.”

“That’s not funny,” I growl. “The Gallos poisoned our city with that shit.”

“You’re right. Bad joke. Why the sudden meet, though?”

I gesture to Enzo. “There have been whispers.”

Enzo nods. “The other night, when we made certain moves…” Everybody knows he’s talking about the fire and the massacre of the Gallos. “It seems we missed a task on our to-do list.”

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