Page 14 of Ruthless Boss

Relief loosens the kinks in my shoulders. “Thank you.” I know the reprieve is temporary. Knowing that Ciro has come here looking for me and somehow already found my last place of work and my current name instantly adds tension. How long do I have? I’m not ready to leave yet.

“Do you… need anything? Do you want me to call the police?”

“No,” I blurt. God, the police would be the worst. I doubt that they’ll look kindly on me running from a crime scene after killing one man and injuring another. The self-defense strategy doesn’t work after this much time. Besides, Ciro had contacts in the local police who could spin things however he wanted. I wonder how he explained his father’s death. When I escaped, I looked online for an obituary but found nothing. “Police won’t help. Tara, I appreciate you sharing this information. Do you know what Chevy told him?”

I hear her sigh. “No. Chevy is an idiot. He didn’t say much, I don’t think… and kept his phone number in case he heard anything. The dude said he’ll pay us for information.”

“Well, then, I thank you again.” I make a mental note to send Tara something nice after I reach my final destination. Anonymously, of course.

8

Dante

I cut into the wood-grilled, aged beef fillet that Zenovia proudly prepared. I eat at the formal dining table tonight, along with Nico, Rocco, Massimo, his wife Amara, and Lucia. My father is out of town, probably with a hot young woman. The less I know about his romantic affairs, the better.

I meant to catch up with my brothers, and eating at my place sounded easier since Amara wanted to see the baby. They insisted that Lucia join us.

Now, I wish they hadn’t.

Nico knows what ticks me off—being the youngest, he’s annoying as fuck most of the time, even though he’s in his mid-thirties. He loves to tease and be inconvenient, and he’s been using every chance he has to chat more with Lucia.

“So, how has my bro been treating you?” Nico asks, his inquisitive brown eyes on her.

Lucia lifts a piece of her fillet to her mouth. She looks around and realizes they’re waiting for her response. “Well, I still have my hip in place, unlike the last nanny, so I’m pulling through.”

Nico lets out a hearty chuckle. Rocco and Massimo exchange an amused glance, and an easy energy flows in the air.

“You watch out for that hip,” Amara says, smiling. “I’m so glad that we’re back from our trip. I’ve missed little AJ. In a few weeks, she’s already grown so much.”

“Don’t forget about her baptism next month,” I remind her. I’ve chosen her and Massimo as AJ’s grandparents. After Andie passed, I was in their home for six months, and they helped me a lot to figure out parenthood, even if they weren’t parents themselves. They offered the support I badly needed and would never have asked for.

“Never,” Amara says.

I don’t care much for religious rituals, but my father has always insisted that all children in the family get baptized. He doesn’t see the hypocrisy of what we do and how any superior force will rightfully judge it. The man likes his customs, and sometimes, acquiescing is easier than putting up a fight.

“Are you sure it’s safe… to have a baptism?” Rocco asks, a concerned expression crossing over his face. “With Santini still at large and all.”

“I talked to Father Ambrosio. It’ll be a small affair, and security will be tight.”

Amara nods, but a trace of doubt hits her eyes.

I glance over at Lucia, and she’s focused on her food. Her body language, though, is more tense than seconds ago. She holds her fork stiffly, and even though she looks at her plate, she seems worried. Is she afraid of going to an event with AJ and something possibly happening to her? Or does the fact someone is after us make her uneasy?

“No one from that family will touch us again,” I say. “I felt bad when I killed Santini’s son, but now I won’t hesitate to obliterate anyone from their circle.”

I look at her, hoping she hears the reassurance in my voice, but her eyes widen with fear.

I sigh. Poor thing. She isn’t used to the harshness of the mafia world.

After everyone leaves, I find Lucia putting the baby down on the crib in my room.

The domesticity of it all is like a healing ointment to a painful wound.

Since my mother died, I haven’t felt this type of connection to another adult. I’ve bonded with AJ, but that’s different. I hope I’ll be different from my dad, too. My father tries his best in his way. He wasn’t the best husband, and after Mom died, he remarried someone half his age, got divorced, and went on to dating.

Dad thought he was providing all we needed by working hard and affording a nice lifestyle and nannies.

Am I doing the same?

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