Page 142 of Syndicate of Sin Bundle

sage

“Can we grab coffee before heading to the airport?” Laila asked next to me in the back of the SUV. She gazed out the tinted window while one of Constantino’s guards drove us through the surprisingly desolate New York City streets.

This city looked so weird at barely four in the morning.

“The Coffee Club should be open now,” I suggested. “They open early.”

Laila glanced at me, then dropped her gaze. “We can go there if you’d like,” she said quietly, keeping to herself more than usual.

I wondered if this had anything to do with the conversation I had overheard last night.

“We don’t have to,” I said, not wanting to upset her. Maybe she thought I wanted to meet Poppy there this morning or something. “I just suggested it because it is on the way, but I’m sure that—”

“It’s fine,” Constantino said as the car came to a stop across the street. “We’re here.”

I glanced out the window to see a single light on in The Coffee Club and then smiled at Laila. “I can tell you what they have,” I said quietly. “Their breakfast sandwiches are really good too, if you’re hungry.”

While she had seemed upset a moment ago, she smiled softly at me and nodded. After I shuffled out of the car, I glanced over my shoulder at Vincent and Riccardo stepping out of the black SUV behind us.

As we walked toward the entrance, Laila curled her arm around mine. When I glanced down at our arms, she blushed. “Sorry, I was just …” She peered up at me and pulled her arm away from mine.

But I stopped her and wrapped mine around hers, tugging her to the front.

Perk of getting here early: no line.

“What’s your favorite?” she asked, gazing up at the menu.

“I don’t drink much coffee,” I admitted, “But a lot of people order number five.”

“Number five,” she hummed to the barista, blindly trusting my judgment. “What would you like, Sage?”

I snapped my gaze to Riccardo, who stood by the door with a swollen black eye. He didn’t look over at me, like he usually did, and I hoped that I wasn’t the reason for his injury. I hadn’t seen him at all today, except when he had been putting out suitcases in the trunk.

And nobody spoke a word about how he had gotten the black eye. Though I assumed Constantino had had something to do with it.

“Two chocolate chip cookies, please,” I said.

“And a green tea for her,” Constantino finished.

“How’d you know I like jasmine tea?” I asked him while we waited.

“Your kitchen hasn’t been restocked since you moved in,” he said. “You don’t have any left.”

My eyes widened slightly, butterflies fluttering in my stomach. I didn’t know why it made me feel so giddy inside, but it did. He had actually noticed? Half the guys I had dated before rarely even noticed if I cut my hair.

“Number five!” the barista called.

When Laila released my arm to grab her coffee, I rocked back on my heels and gazed down at the ground, desperately trying to hold back a grin.

I’m not falling for them. I’m not falling for them. I’m not falling for them.

They were a dangerous couple.

At least, that was what I told myself. Because honestly, they seemed like the most genuine, honest, and intimate people sometimes. They truly cared about each other, and I … I couldn’t get in the way of that.

Things were already too messy between us all.

To get it off my mind, I grabbed my cookies off the counter and walked over to Riccardo, who stood by the exit.

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