Page 28 of Filthy Little Games

And if Creed is in prison for three-and-a-half-years, he won’t be able to touch me. I’ll basically be free.

“So, this would only be a temporary arrangement? For a few years?”

“Yes.”

“And you want to take out Emilio Rovina before you go away? If he was involved in the police raid at the club?”

“Yes.”

That sounds like a dream come true. I would have a great shot at custody once he’s out of the way.

But, if it turns out Emilio wasn’t part of the raid, he’ll still be a pain in my ass.

“I have a question about you and Emilio,” I start, trying to figure out how to ask what I want to know. “How does your…hierarchy work?”

“What?”

“The mafia hierarchy. I’ve heard that you’re the scariest one that the other families answer to. Is that true?”

“I can’t discuss the inner workings of the family with you,” Creed says. “You already know enough to sink me as it is. Besides, we all take an oath of silence. Theomerta. It’s even the name of our social club because it’s the foundation on which we exist.”

“You can’t just tell me if you’re Emilio’s boss? Or how you feel about him? You’re worried about him finding out about Izaiah, right?”

“I would rather figure out if Emilio was behind Izaiah and the raid first, but if he starts getting suspicious, I may have no choice but to find a way to take him out…surreptitiously to protect my family.”

Thank god.

“And the rest ofhisfamily? What happens to his other children if it comes down to that?”

“If they don’t suspect me or cause me any problems, then Saint, Stella, and Cami can stay out of this shit.”

I slump a little in my seat, pleased to hear that. “Okay. Good. That’s…good to know.”

“Why? Are you close with the Rovinas?”

“It’s more complicated than that. I don’t think the rest of the Rovinas even know I exist. Only Izaiah.”

I’m just the Rovina family’s filthy little secret they keep hidden.

Izaiah and Emilio only think of me as a harmless, powerless kitten without any claws.

If I marry Creed Ferraro and he really does give me an “allowance,” then there’s a possibility that I could save enough money to hire an attorney, one who can help me finally get custody of Oriana. Those chances go up with Emilio dead, and Creed is definitely my best bet for making that happen.

“I’ll do it. I’ll marry you.”

He glances at me, then shakes his head. “Did it really take that long for you to decide marrying me was a better option than death?”

“Yes. Because some things —”

“Are worse than death,” he finishes for me. Neither of us speak through several stoplights as we reach Manhattan. Then he says without looking at me, “I’m furious at you for setting me up, for being partially responsible for ending my brother’s life, but I’m not going to hurt you unless you give me a reason to.” His eyes cut to me, and he adds, “Don’t give me a fucking reason to hurt you.”

“Are those going to be your wedding vows?” I joke, even though there is nothing humorous about the unexpected warmth and…ache that begins to take hold within me, all thanks to the way he’s looking at me.

The angel of death.

I just saw him kill a man, so I shouldn’t be getting turned on by anything this man says or does.

For the first time since he mentioned the marriage, the wordhusbandblares loudly in my head. In a few hours, Creed Ferraro is going to be my husband.

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