Page 50 of Fatal Bonds

Tossing my phone onto the desk, I comb my hair back from my face as I consider my options. I have no doubt my men will be banned from the event as well. It’s no secret that I hate Emiliano, and if I’m not welcome at the gala because he plans to attend, then that will hold true for anyone loyal to me. That’s the main reason I formed this alliance with Lucian in the first place. He might want Emiliano dead as much as I do, but as of now, very few people know that. At least if Lucian and his men are still good to go, it’s a good sign that no one suspects us of collusion. It’s not like I didn’t know I would have to keep my distance from the start. Emiliano knows just how badly I want him dead, and he takes that very seriously. I made that point vividly apparent when I crossed the line to protect Lindsey.

Glancing toward the door of my office, I sit up as a thought strikes me. Emiliano doesn’t know Lindsey’s actual name. When I sent her in for that internship interview, we created a false identity for her, so even if he knows her face, her name wouldn’t be blacklisted. It doesn’t feel all that honorable to ask more of her when she’s already put so much on the line for this plan, but I want to be present when that sick fuck finally meets his end. I would love nothing more than to drag out his suffering and make him scream for my mercy before I kill him with my bare hands, but since I won’t get that, at least I want to see him die. Putting aside my pride, I make my way to the master bedroom and knock.

“Come in.” Lindsey’s voice is guardedly polite, and when I open the door, she turns from her desk to meet my eye.

“Hey,” I say, stopping at the threshold.

“Hi.”

That pervasive silence stretches between us, the newfound awkwardness in our relationship settling like a wet blanket across the room. Clearing my throat, I push past it, knowing after a week of her halting communications that Lindsey is not going to be the one who breaks it.

“I have a favor to ask,” I state.

Pushing her glasses up the bridge of her nose, Lindsey raises her eyebrows. “Oh?”

“I’ll pay you back for it, obviously, but would you be willing to put something on your credit card?”

“Having trouble getting approved for a loan?” she teases, and when she offers me a rare smile, the ball of tension in my stomach loosens slightly. “I can hardly imagineIcould buy anything you couldn’t.”

A chuckle rumbles up from my chest as I shake my head. “It’s not the quantity that’s the issue. It’s your anonymity that I need.”

Lindsey frowns. “For what?”

I haven’t filled her in on the details of the plan Lucian and I formulated from the intel she got us out of Emiliano’s office. The less she knows, the better—for her sake as well as ours—so I hesitate as I consider how much to tell her now.

“They’ve refused me entry to the event where Don Costanzo will be.”

“The event where Lucian intends to kill him, you mean.” It’s not a question as Lindsey effortlessly connects the dots, her spine straightening. “But you want to see it through.”

Swallowing hard, I give a curt nod.

Crossing her arms over her chest, Lindsey leans back in her chair. “Fine. I’ll get you in under my name, but only if you’ll take me with you.”

“No.” The word jumps from my mouth as my fists clench. I’ve already put Lindsey in enough danger as it is. I don’t want her walking into another risky situation just so she can witness the kind of violence I’m trying to keep her away from entirely.

“No?”

“No. You’re not coming.”

“Then you can find someone else,” she states, turning back toward her laptop.

Sighing heavily, I pinch the bridge of my nose to ward off a growing headache. “You don’t even know what the event is. What makes you so sure you want to come?”

Lindsey’s loose ponytail whips around as she looks at me. “I’ve seen what that asshole is capable of. I’ve met the niece you’re going to such great lengths to kill him for. You don’t think I want him dead just as badly? My life has been put on hold for months over this, so I’d like to be there—to see this whole thing put to rest.”

It’s a valid sentiment, and it sounds a lot like the reasoning behind why I want to be there. I want it badly enough, I was willing to ask her for the favor, but still, I don’t like the thought of her being out in the open when any of the Italians—Emiliano’s or Lucian’s—could see it as an opportunity to tie up a loose end.

“What is the event anyway?” Lindsey asks, tilting her head curiously.

“A charity ball.”

Her face lights up, and I feel my resolve buckling at her excitement.

“A ball? I’ve never been to one before.”

My lips press together in frustration, and I give my head a single shake.

“Oh, come on, Maks. No one’s going to notice me in that kind of crowd.”

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