Page 59 of Triplets for the Mafia Prince

“Not that one,” she says, pointing to the car on her right. “It’s got a car seat. It’s cold out and if they come out with their baby and don’t find their car?—”

“Then this one,” I say referring to my left.

"How can you be so calm about this?"

"Because I've learned to do what needs to be done." The words come out harsher than intended. I soften my tone. "My goal is to keep us alive, Bella.”

She shakes her head but settles into her seat. She’s giving in, so why do I feel like shit?

“Wait here.” I’ll deal with the car and moving her bag. I don’t want her lingering out in the open for cameras to see her.

I get out, feeling the cold blast of air. It clears my senses, helping me focus. I look for a hidden key, but there isn’t one. The car is an older model, one I know I can hotwire. The door is unlocked, and I slide into the driver's seat. I pull the tools I stole from the cabin. First I try the screwdriver in the ignition. That rarely works anymore, and this case is no different. I use the tool to undo screws, strip the wires, and find the right connections. Within minutes, the engine purrs to life.

With my head down, I exit and block Bella as I escort her to the passenger seat. Then I climb into the driver’s seat.

"How did you learn to do that?" Bella asks as we pull away from the parking lot, her voice a mix of curiosity and lingering unease about stealing the car.

A smile tugs at my lips as memories surface. "Max taught me. Back when we were teenagers, he worked for one of our underbosses who ran chop shops."

“Most teens work at burger joints.”

I shrug. “Most teens don’t have fathers in organized crime.” The memory warms me despite our current situation. "Max told me that every man should know how to steal a car, even if he could afford to buy one. Called it a life skill."

Her brow arches. "Did you steal a lot of cars?"

I shake my head. "Nah. We'd practice on junkers in the back lot, then put them back together. We didn’t participate in the chop shop business. But he’s right, it’s a life skill. This adventure is proof of it. I can teach you if you want." Mostly, I’m joking.

“Yeah, maybe.”

I swing my head to her, surprised.

She shrugs. “Like you say, it’s a life skill that might save me.” We drive on a bit and she says, “You and Max haven’t known each other a long time, then?”

"He's the closest thing to a real friend—a brother—I've got in this life." The memory of those late nights in the shop with Max feels like a lifetime ago. Just two kids playing with cars, pretending we weren't being groomed for a life of crime. Max would blast rock music while teaching me about wiring and engine parts, both of us covered in grease and grinning like idiots.

“You work with him?”

“Sort of. He runs things in Las Vegas for my father.”

Her brow furrows. “Your father?”

I know her concern. “I trust Max. There’s no love lost between him and my father. He does his job, and like me, he looks out for Gia. If… when I kill my father and take over, he’ll be my second in command.” I glance at her. “First thing will be to end the trafficking.”

She nods. “Good.”

But thinking of taking over sends my mind racing to figure out how I’m going to end my father’s reign of terror. I work through scenarios of my father's possible next moves. The old bastard's always ten steps ahead, which is how he's stayed in power so long. Even now, he's probably got men combing through every security camera feed between Chicago and New York.

"You're quiet," Bella says, breaking through my dark thoughts.

"Just planning." I scan the road ahead, looking for threats. We’re twenty minutes into our drive when I see another superstore. Perfect timing. We need to swap these plates before someone reports them. And maybe I’ll take the chance of letting Bella grab something to eat.

I pull into the lot, choosing a spot near the back where the security cameras have blind spots.

“Now what?” She doesn’t hide her annoyance.

“Switching plates. But if you’d like to disguise yourself, you can go in.” I pull out a wad of cash, happy that I always travel with several thousand dollars. I hand her a hundred dollars in twenties. “I’ll change the plates and meet you over there.” I point to a spot closer to the store exit but still out of what I think is camera shot.

She nods, taking the flannel from me and grabbing the ball cap in the back seat. She keeps her head down as she makes her way toward the store.

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