Page 60 of Fatal Bonds

“Well?” I ask. “I only insisted on one song. Are you having fun?”

She nods, her hold tightening on my hand and arm, so when the music picks up again, I lead her into the next song. We dance until we’re breathless, then stop for some refreshment and wander around the space. In one of the adjoining rooms, we stop to watch the Italian opera singer for a while as she covers some of the most memorable pieces from the classical works, then we pass into the silent auction room to see what’s up for bid.

“Are you going to bid on anything?” Lindsey asks as we pass a beautiful sculpture showcased in glass.

“Considering I’m not supposed to be here tonight, it’s probably best if I don’t, but if you see something you like, I’ll cover the cost.”

She glances up at me from the corner of her eye, her cheeks coloring slightly. “Thanks.”

We wander in silence for some time, and I keep my eyes peeled for the reason we’re here, but as the hours pass, I still haven’t caught a glimpse of Emiliano. Though I do catch sight of Lucian and several of his men mingling in the crowd, the don’s absence starts to make me restless as the night continues.

Heading back into the ballroom once more, I do another sweep, and this time, Lucian’s gone as well. A sinking feeling settles in my stomach, and I scan the room again.

“Care for one more dance?” Lindsey suggests, her tone hopeful.

Looking down into her bright blue eyes, I smile. “Sure.”

The music’s calmer now, slowing down because the gala’s in its final hour, and as we sway to the rumba song, I pull Lindsey closer.

“I like this dance,” she murmurs, trapping her lip between her teeth as she peers up at me through her thick lashes.

The urge to lean in and kiss her sweeps through me, the desire so intense, I almost give in to it. But that won’t make this any easier. I need to find a way to let her go. But just like the countdown to Emiliano’s end, I know my time with Lindsey is finite, and I risk the possibility of breaking my word to her if I cross that line and can’t control myself any longer. I have to be able to let her go tomorrow.

Still, holding her like this, our bodies moving together in time to the romantic music is making it nearly fucking impossible to resist her. I know she can feel it too—that magnetic pull between us, that draw that keeps bringing me back for more. And when the song ends, we stay together, the air between us charged.

“Maks, I?—”

“Signor Yashkov.” One of Lucian’s men appears through the mass of bodies, grasping my arm urgently as he cuts Lindsey off. “Thesignoreasked to speak with you in private,” he murmurs, his voice just loud enough that Lindsey and I can hear.

I really wanted to know what she was about to say, but when I met her eyes again, she just gives me a reassuring smile.

“It’s fine. Go,” she insists. “I’ll meet you over at the bar when you’re done.” She tips her chin toward the open bar set up along the far wall.

I glance around, doubts flooding my mind. My instincts tell me to stay, but if Lucian needs to talk, something must have gone wrong with the plan. “You’re sure?” I ask, studying her face.

“I’m not going anywhere, Maks.” Lindsey’s tone has an edge this time.

She thinks I don’t trust her, that I expect her to run, but it’s the opposite. I don’t trust a single goddamn soul in this room, not when it comes to her safety, and I clench my teeth at the thought of leaving her on her own.

“Go,” she insists, giving me a nudge, and when Lucian’s man tugs me in the right direction, I follow reluctantly, keeping my eye on her all the way until we reach the door.

Lucian’s man shows me down an empty hallway, glancing several times behind us to make sure no one’s tracking our movement. Then he opens a door and gestures me inside. I don’t have a weapon—the metal detectors at the front entrance wouldn’t allow it—but I suddenly feel naked without one, and my hand flexes instinctively toward the back of my waistband, where I would keep my gun if I had one right now. The room looks like an employee lounge or maybe even a large storage area with an overabundance of couches and several outdated coffee tables that must have been replaced by the ones muttered across the main atrium now. One of those box TVs with an antenna attached to the top sits in the far corner of the room, and a simple sink installed in a row of cabinets line one wall.

“We have a problem.” Lucian cuts right to the point as he steps out of the shadows, three of his men loosely closing in behind him. He’s still wearing his navy mask that matches his fine Italian suit, while they’re all wearing simple black masks and are dressed like the waitstaff that’s been wandering around, passing out hors d’oeuvres.

“No shit. Where is he?” I don’t use Emiliano’s name—just in case it’s a trap. When it comes to trust in our line of work, it’s near impossible to earn and quick to be revoked, and while Lucian is one of the few Italians I would consider putting my faith in, he is also stabbing his don in the back—or at least, that’s what he’s been claiming he wants, so I can’t rely on my instincts entirely for this one.

“I was going to ask you that. You’re sure the intel was good?”

“Yes.” Lindsey and I might have trust issues of our own, but on that front, I have no doubt—not after what Emiliano put her through.

Lucian gives a heavy sigh. “The night’s almost over. We’re running out of time. If he makes us wait much longer, we might have to pull the plug on this one.”

“If it doesn’t happen tonight, are we going to have a problem?”

The Italian shrugs. “Not a pressing one. Mostly just that we’ll be back to square one.”

Knowing that this isn’t our one opportunity loosens the knot in my stomach, and a shocking sense of relief rushes into me at the realization that it mightnothappen tonight. The emotion goes against everything I’ve fought so hard for years to achieve. But the relief is too powerful to deny, and when Lindsey’s face fills my mind, I know why—if Don Costanzo doesn’t die tonight, then I’ll have an excuse to hold onto her a little longer.

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