Page 25 of Consumed By the Mafia

Abigail licked her lips, one other question whispering through her. One question she needed not to be guessing at. It was her fault, after all. “Ryoma,” she said, her voice too soft at first. She turned enough to see the terrifying mafia man’s back and spoke more clearly. “What about Ryoma?”

The Dragon paused just beyond the doorway to the room and glanced over his shoulder. “Ryoma will be your protector if you accept. Your executioner if you don’t.” The direction and intensity of his gaze shifted. “That’s your punishment for this migraine.”

Her breath lodged in her throat and Abigail couldn’t stop herself from looking over atRyoma.

He remained on the couch, though he’d tilted forward in a partial bow of acknowledgment that needed no translation. His fists were clenched tightly over his lap. So tightly, in fact, she thought she spotted a fresh smear of blood across the top of his pants. As if it were trailing from his fists, as if he were gouging his own flesh with the nails she knew he kept short.

She hated that she’d hurt him. She hated that she’d endangered him. She hated that she’d put him—either of them—in the positions they were in.But I can still fix it.

Abigail rushed to the hall, so she could at least get eyes on the two men striding toward the door that led outside, and pushed the words that she knew would change her life past her lips. “I’ll do it. I accept.”

She would not stand idly by. She would not be yet another agent of the law who only enabled trauma. She would not orphan innocent children. But maybe there was something to the old adage of fighting fire with fire. She could still accomplish a semblance of the goal she’d set out with, albeit differently than she’d envisioned. And when the dust settled, when the bars slid shut behind the last future convict, she would find a way to leave the FBI that didn’t call into question the credibility of every case she had worked.

It was an imperfect solution, but it was the best way to keep the most innocent people alive. The only other thing she’d have to figure out how to do would be smuggling her informant out of state before it was over.

The Dragon faced her once more, his blue eyes practically glowing against the backlight. “Excellent. Cristiano will set you up with what you’ll need. Use this location as your basefor the time being.” He didn’t wait for her response before stepping out the door and disappearing into the afternoon sunlight.

Cristiano didn’t follow after him, but rather watched from the doorway for several seconds before stepping back and shutting it again. He flipped the deadbolt, then turned toward her and folded his arms. “It’ll take a few hours to get you set up. You’ll wait here for that time.”

Abigail frowned. “I thought I was supposed to be doing my job, with a different focus?”

“Essentially, yes. But you’ll need equipment and a cover story. By now your employer will have heard about the accident near your complex. You should be prepared to explain any calls you’ve missed, the reason you have a bodyguard, and the reason you’re adjusting focus.” His eyes narrowed. “First, you’re going to answer a question for me.”

Oh, for fuck’s sake.“Now what? Is it not enough that you’ve raked me over the damn coals and basically forced me to abandon my life plan?”

“It was your life plan to destroy my family? Orphan my nieces and nephew? Commit elderly wives who are only guilty of being loyal to their husbands to dying in prison? That was your life plan?”

She sucked in a breath. “No! Dammit!” She made an exasperated sound as images of her own childhood ripped through her. “I decided to join the FBI when I was like thirteen. I dedicated myself to studying hard and reaching that goal throughout high school and college, at the detriment of my social life. That’s all I meant, okay? I don’t have a backup plan for mylife.” She blew out a breath. “Just ask what you want.” It didn’t even matter, anyway.

His face was unreadable. “Why were you trying to get close to Felicity?”

Abigail stared at him. “Huh?”

He didn’t blink. Didn’t flinch.

Abigail pressed her fingers to her temple. “Oh my god, you’re serious,” she mumbled to herself. “Iwasn’t, okay? I didn’t know she existed when I moved into that building. It was cheap and the FBI wasn’t looking to splurge on my lodgings. I happened to be walking by the office that day and heard a scuffle, so I went inside. Honestly, I would have called the police for her and walked away, but she didn’t want to. I didn’t get suspicious that she was involved somehow in my case until the day in the diner whenyouinsisted on buying my breakfast. All I was doing was saying hi to someone I recognized. It’s hard being new in a big city and having to lie every second of the day.”

He stared her down for another long minute before unfolding his arms. “All right, then.”

Seriously? Just like that?

“I’m going to organize supplies. Don’t try to leave. I’ll bring food when I come back. Your new mission starts tomorrow, today you’re on house arrest.” He glanced past her and something she couldn’t read crossed over his face. “Both of you.” Then he pulled keys out of his pocket, turned, and let himself out. The door locked behind him.

Abigail blew out a breath. “Holy fuck.”

“You’re lucky.”

She jumped at the haggard tone of Ryoma’s voice, coming from the room just behind her. He didn’t sound at all like himself. Not like the man she’d spent time with, at least. Then his words penetrated her brain and she twisted in place to balk at him. “How? How is being left alive to screw my own life over actuallylucky?”

He narrowed his eyes at her. “You’d rather be dead? You don’t see the value in taking a violent, drug-pushing gang off the streets? And a bunch of dirty cops, and some straggling mobsters? It’s De Salvo mafia or bust for you, is that it?”

Abigail winced. “That isn’t what I meant.”

“No. You meant that your life as you planned it is being thrown off track and you don’t know how to reconcile that.” He pushed to his feet, arms swinging to his sides. “You’re not the only one who’s had to deal with that, either. You’ll find a way to move forward, because youcan. Life goes on.”

She felt herself frown. “Can I … ask you about that?” She knew the question was audacious. He probably couldn’t stand the sight of her anymore. But what he’d said sounded so painful, and was simultaneously so intriguing, she couldn’t help herself.

“No.”

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