Page 2 of Deception & Desire

I laugh as I crouch down to get up in his face. A stray chunk of red hair falls from my bun into my peripheral vision.

“I am the fucking manager,” I snarl at him. “Now pay up before I tell Mr. Vitale exactly who’s been throwing his name around so carelessly.”

This, out of everything I’ve done to him, makes him pale. Of course, it does.

Things wrap up pretty quickly after that. Terry takes the payment and flags down a couple of bouncers to escort them out.

“I can close from here, Mia. Get yourself home early,” Terry throws over his shoulder as he returns to the bar.

“I’m fine.”

“You can cover me next time.”

I roll my eyes at him but don’t bother arguing. It’s been a bad day, and I’m sure my mood makes me irritating company, so I don’t really blame him.

“I have a day off tomorrow, but I’ll see you later,” I say as I make my way into the back.

My bag and jacket are hanging where I left them after my trip to the closed bodega, and I shove them both on quickly. My hand grazes the phone in the pocket, and I absently check the notifications.

Thirteen missed calls from: Cassandra Moretti.

I sigh, lock my phone again, and head toward the back door—a very bad day.

This happens every week or so. I’ve known Cas since we were kids so it’s not surprising she’s taking my absence so badly. But it’s not like I’m hiding from her. She knows where I work.

I just…need to lay low for a while.

I’d warned her to stay away from the Guild, but she got involved anyway.Marriedinto it actually. Which is fine; she’s an adult. Bully for her, I guess, falling in love like that.

But my best friend didn’t have to grow up with the threat of the mafioso hanging over her like I did. She didn’t have to train herself for the eventuality that one day, someone might say the wrong thing and get your entire family killed.

The only reason I stuck around in the first place was to protect my dad. But now…

“If I don’t give you a position in the Guild, people are going to think you’re a liability.”

“How much time do I have?”

“A week, maybe.”

My last conversation with the Guild’s don, Teo Vitale, happened months ago. And living on borrowed time is utterly exhausting.

I pass Danny on my way out, leaning against the wall with a cigarette between her fingers. She gives me a nod when she registers me before her eyes glaze over again.

Yeah. No one wants to live under the Guild’s thumb.

I collapse into bed the second I enter my tiny studio apartment tucked away in the corner of Brighton Beach. It’s just far enough away from the tourist rabble to make my commute to work bearable.

It takes me a minute to realize there’s something hanging from my closet door that wasn’t there before.

I blink, then blink again. Nope, still there.

The sequined, floor-length, rose-gold dress accompanied by matching red-heeled shoes still very much exists within my mess of an apartment—throwing light around the room like a ludicrously expensive disco ball.

There’s only one person with both the finances and the means of entry to have delivered this. My suspicions are confirmed when my eyes snag on the note attached to the hanger.

Dinner, 7:30 PM.

I groan. There’s an address scrawled on the back, and it doesn’t look like it’s anywhere in the same realm as my beloved bodega.

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