Page 87 of Filthy Little Games

“I’m Zara’s husband.”

“He’s Creed fucking Ferraro,” Aldo announces from behind me.

“That too,” I agree with a wince since sharing my identity wasn’t part of the plan. Too late now, we’ll have to roll with it.

Now the women exchange another look, and their faces tighten with concern, clearly having heard my name before.

Some sort of silent conversation passes between them, and then the blonde says, “Oriana doesn’t leave this apartment without us.” Before I can object, she adds, “We’re all she knows, who she trusts. You’ll terrify her.”

“Okay, so then you two will come with us quietly. I have plenty of room in my penthouse for you to stay and help Zara get reacquainted with her daughter who she’s barely seen in three years.”

“He knows a lot about her to be lying,” the brunette, Bethany, remarks.

“When’s Oriana’s birthday?” the blonde, Paige, asks.

Her birthday? Zara has told me twice, hasn’t she? Hottest summer ever, and she was gigantic, nine months pregnant. Best day of her life and favorite day of the year, even if she doesn’t get to celebrate with Oriana.

“July fourteenth,” I answer. “She was born July fourteenth and taken away from Zara on the fifteenth.”

“Boss...” Aldo warns, having obviously heard from our backup that we need to hurry.

The blonde finally nods and tells the brunette, “You pack a bag, and I’ll get Ori.”

Ori.I wonder what Zara will think about the abbreviated name some other woman gave to her daughter. But at least it seems like these two women really do care for the girl. To hold us at gunpoint and be willing to die for her means that they love her too.

“Make it fast. Put your guns and phones down on the floor first and leave them here. You have two minutes,” I tell the women.

They both lay their guns on the carpet in front of them, then their cell phones. The blonde slips into a back room while the brunette runs around the living room area and kitchen, gathering up toys and cups and shoving them into a giant shoulder bag.

“How are things looking for our exit?” I ask Aldo without taking my eyes off the women.

“Tristan and Dre thumped the guards on the heads again to knock them out and have got two shoved down the garbage chute.”

“Good,” I say in relief.

It turns out that the chute could accommodate all four large men.

Leaving the removal of the guards to Dre and Tristan, Aldo and I hurry the women along down the stairwell. I’m not too concerned about them being caught on any street cameras, sinceour faces won’t be seen, and Aldo and I are close enough to the size of the guards. Once we’re out, the women will live under my roof, under constant surveillance, unable to tell Emilio or anyone else what’s happened.

The small, curly-haired little girl is half-asleep on the blonde’s shoulder the whole time we hurry to the vehicle. Only when we’re waiting turns to pile inside the SUV with the overhead light on does Oriana finally lift her head.

I’m standing behind the women, waiting on the brunette, when Oriana’s sleepy eyes blink open to take in me and the dark street. And in that moment, I’m struck by the same protective instinct as the night I watched Izaiah hold a knife to Zara’s throat.

This girl is precious and innocent, just like her mother, and I know I’d risk it all to keep her safe.

I rack my brain, trying to remember what Zara told me about her. She said her daughter is bossy and loves Disney princesses. That’s why I whisper, “Hello, princess.”

The blonde stiffens in concern that Oriana is not only wide awake, but she’s also lifted her head from the woman’s shoulder to stare at me, a complete stranger.

“You don’t have a car seat,” the nanny remarks as she slides into the backseat with Oriana on her shoulder.

“I think we have bigger concerns right now.” I take the seat next to them. Then to the girl, I say, “My name is Creed, and we’re going to go see your mommy.”

“Zara,” the blonde corrects me. “She doesn’t know…”

“Seriously?” I mutter with a disgusted shake of my head. She doesn’t know Zara is her mother? What the hell is wrong with these people? “Ori, you’re going to see Zara and tomorrow we’re going to find you the prettiest princess crown in town.”

The girl gives me a sleepy smile, then lowers her head to the nanny’s shoulder, shutting her eyes again.

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