Page 106 of Secret Baby for the Italian Mafia King

“What do you want, Jon? Just tell me what you want for her.”

“I don’t know what kind of man you think I am, Nadia—”

“The kind of man who sends someone to kick down a single mother’s door in the middle of the night,” I hiss between my teeth, unable to stop the rage from building up. His boot connects with my chest, and all the air snaps out of my lungs, releases that angry pressure by punting it right out of me.

I tumble over, drawing in a gulp of air.

“And you were a money-grubbing little bitch, ratting her way around this city, so let’s not cast stones.”

“I was running from him,” I croak.

“I’m not having this argument again!” Dellucci bellows. He strides away from me, leaves me kneeling between the feet of two men as he goes to talk to Olivia. I overhear their warm welcomes, their thanking each other.

“The families agreed that we could settle this with blood and bullets, and we still have done a damn fine job of avoiding that, thanks to you.”

“Luckily for you, I may be up for hire in the near future,” Olivia says. I can hear the grin in her voice.

Dellucci laughs at that.

I feel like they’re in another world. I eye the gun on the hip of the man next to me, but I know better than to think I’d get anywhere with it.

“Where did you take Harper?” I call out. I am rewarded with another kick in the stomach, and another, until I stop repeating it. I still try, but the words come out as a whimper.

There’s a commotion suddenly. A rise of distant voices coming from the stony-eyed boys we passed.

I think I must be dreaming, because Cali saunters into the room. Short-shorts and oiled skin and high heels that tap across the concrete. That same split-dye hair color, black on platinum blonde. She doesn’t make sense here. Like a figment of my imagination, or an imaginary friend.

She doesn’t look at me with any recognition, smiling her signature smile at the men in the room. The smile that says look down at her plunging neckline and pushed-up breasts.

I tilt my head, trying to make the puzzle piece fit somewhere it shouldn’t when Elijah comes striding in behind her with a grin and a bottle of champagne, completing the missing edge of the puzzle piece.

“Congratulations,” he tells Dellucci warmly, holding out a hand to shake. Olivia has straightened up like a scarecrow, looking as if she doesn’t know where to land. She is just as surprised by Elijah’s arrival as I am, her mouth opening and closing.

“I’m sorry I couldn’t be of more help to bring her in. Ren caught on to what happened between us at the meeting. He wasn’t going to let me within a mile of her. Olivia,” he adds, giving her a nod, “I thought you would have run. I’m glad you didn’t.”

Her ruffled feathers smooth marginally, but she still asks, “Why are you here, Elijah?”

“To talk truces,” he says. “Obviously.”

I lift my head, trying to tell him they have Harper. The words won’t come. Just drawing in enough breath to speak makes pain lance through my rib cage. My whimpering goes pointedly ignored.

“No more fucking truces,” Dellucci snarls. “I’ve got the girl, and I’m paying the woman who brought me the bounty.”

Elijah holds up appeasing hands.

“I’m not here to bargain for her. I’m here to talk the new power dynamic in the family. Per the agreement in the meeting, Ren is out, I’m in. And I want to make sure that you and I get off on the right foot.”

“Where is Ren?” Olivia asks, as if it’s just polite curiosity.

The world goes quiet. I swear I somehow stop my own heart, deaden my own pain, as I strain to hear that answer.

“…Someone already took care of that for us,” Elijah says, his voice tight. “Atlas?”

Dellucci nods.

“Hired help. He does good work. Nasty jobs, but good work.”

“Killed one of our best bodyguards in the process,” Elijah grumbles, with no more heat than if someone got mud on his freshly washed car.

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