Page 55 of Coerced Queen

But most of all, I’m sorry that I can’t be the man they need.

She bends over the crib and picks Claire up, shushing her as she looks at me with tears glistening in those whisky-colored eyes.

I can handle many things, but not her tears.

Cupping her face, I wipe a thumb over her dry cheek where many more tears are going to run in the future.I take responsibility for every one of those tears.They’re mine.They’re my doing.I carry that burden, hoping that one day, a better man will put a smile on her face.

“Saverio,” she says when I turn for the door.

This time, I don’t look at her.If I do, I may not be able to leave.

“Stop, please,” she says, her voice breaking.

I don’t.I close the door, and I don’t stop until I’m in my study where I lock myself in.

ChapterTwenty

Anya

“Does Sav know you’re here?”Rachele asks, scanning the street through the window of the upmarket boutique in Manhattan.

“If he did, I wouldn’t be here,” I say in a dry tone.

She nods, acknowledging the fact.My husband would never allow me to deliver a fake passport to Raphael Morelli’s wife.Not even Dante knows where I am or what my plan is.He’s at After Dark, watching Claire.I told him that Livy and I were going dress shopping.Only Livy, who’s decked out in a pin-striped suit with a silver tie and a Fedora hat, is in on the deal.She’s my backup in case things go south.The handgun I bought for her is strapped to her ankle under the wide legs of her pants.She’s loving every minute of playing the mobster—to my detriment.I never realized she’d enjoy the danger so much, and it’s scary.I recall our conversation in the car on our way here when I told her I didn’t want to put her life at risk.

“I’m a sweet, old lady,” she said.“Who’s going to suspect me of anything?The way I look at it, the element of surprise is a major advantage, and that advantage is on my side.”

I nod at Livy, wordlessly asking if she’s ready.She reciprocates with a salute.

“Come,” Rachele says, tilting her head toward the change area.

“No.”I look around the empty store.“Wait here.”

Rachele follows me with her gaze as I walk around the counter where a sales lady stands.Her name tag reads Debra.I go around to the back, keeping my hand on the gun in my bag as I check behind the rails of dresses.At the far end, I sweep the curtain aside.Elena sits on a cream-colored sofa in the private lounge.She lifts her eyes to meet my gaze, not saying a word as I walk down the short aisle and open the curtain of every cubicle.

They’re all empty.

A sign on the door at the end says storeroom.I test the handle.Locked.

“Debra,” I call to the front.

The lady appears a moment later.

I motion at the door.“Open it.”

She takes a key from her pocket and unlocks the door before opening it wide.I stick my head around the jamb.Shoe boxes and clothes wrapped in plastic bags are stacked on metal shelves.A vacuum cleaner and mop take up one corner.A bucket filled with cleaning products stands next to a door with a WC sign.

My order is clipped.“Ladies’ room.”

Debra walks inside and opens the door, revealing a small bathroom with a toilet and a basin.

“Thanks,” I say.“You can go back to the front.”

When she leaves, I go over to Elena and hold out my hand.“Bag.”

Elena hands over her handbag with pursed lips.

I unzip it and go through the contents, feeling for microphones under the lining.Satisfied that there are no weapons or hidden cameras, I put the bag next to her on the sofa.

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