Page 40 of Kissing Danger

No security camera footage. No eyewitness willing to come forth. There hadn’t even been any bodies left behind. My people had immediately disposed of them.

I was in no real danger, except for Deacon. He’d never faced a murder charge or a police interrogation before. If I’d been smarter, I would have coached him on what to say in an interrogation as soon as we left Caprice’s office, but I’d been... distracted. That small mistake had nearly cost me and put him in danger.

I couldn’t risk leaving Deacon in police custody longer than necessary, so I’d swallowed my pride and made a call I didn’t think I would ever have to make.

I’d asked my brother for help.

He’d come through. Within half an hour of calling him, I’d been released from custody with all charges dropped. The leader of the Chechen Mafia—at least as far as the rest of the world knew—could pull a lot of strings.

Unfortunately, that meant I was going to owe my brother, and while he wasn’t our family’s actual leader, he was smart enough to capitalize on every opportunity.

Calling him would come back around to bite me, and it hadn’t even solved the problem of Agent Belden. Just delayed her for a while. The satisfaction I felt seeing the fury on her face when I once again walked away scot-free was satisfying, but not enough to override the sense of foreboding building in my heart.

Yet, I couldn’t bring myself to regret it. Deacon had done a wonderful job keeping the officers at bay until I was able to return for him. If I had any doubts about his ability to stand beside me, they had been put to rest.

The sound of Deacon’s laughter drifted in from the door to the main studio where he was working. His friend had just been discharged from the hospital, so he was in particularly high spirits. If I didn’t know better, it would be impossible to tell that he had killed a man just a few days ago. However, since then, I’d caught him staring off into space several times with a tangle of different thoughts turning in his eyes.

The first kill was always the hardest.

I didn’t remember much from the first time I’d taken a life. It had happened so long ago. Every life I took afterward had gotten a little easier. Now, I didn’t even think about it, but the first one, had caused me many sleepless nights until I’d come to terms with that new part of myself.

It must be even harder for Deacon. I’d been raised in this life from birth and knew what to expect. For Deacon, it had come out of nowhere. One day he was an ordinary citizen, and the next, he’s embroiled in a criminal life.

His laughter came again, and I smiled.

As long as he kept laughing, then everything would be fine.

My phone beeped with an alert. Giving it a brief glance to confirm what it said, I left my office behind and stepped into the studio.

Kiki sat in a chair by the window, still paler than normal, but looking much better. On the floor at her feet, Deacon hadspread several bolts of cloth around her like a textile rainbow. Some bolts were still whole, while others had been cut into indecipherable shapes. None of it looked like clothing, but I trusted that Deacon knew what he was doing.

After watching him for a moment, I was pulled away by a new arrival.

D’Angelo Bianchi stepped into the studio followed by his two familiar bodyguards as well as two people I didn’t recognize. The bodyguards took their places by the door, while the two unfamiliar individuals stayed at D’Angelo’s side.

Based on body language, I could already tell one of the unknown individuals was D’Angelo’s partner. Small and slender, with cheerful eyes and artfully tousled hair. There was a burn scar on the side of his face, but his hair was styled in a way that kept it hidden, and his eyes were so bright that the scar seemed inconsequential by comparison.

The second individual was more of a mystery. Sporting a dark goth look, they were the textbook definition of androgynous, and could not be easily categorized male or female.

“D’Angelo,” I greeted him. “Glad you could come on such short notice.”

Under typical circumstances, two people greeting each other would generally shake hands, but we both knew better than that. D’Angelo always had at least a couple hidden weapons up his sleeve. I eyed his watch, which I knew had been fitted with a complex mechanism that shot poisoned needles. While I was on better terms with him than most other Mafia leaders, that didn’t mean I was willing to trust him with my life.

D’Angelo also didn’t even try to make physical contact with me. “I heard you lost one of your designers. So, I brought you some help. Oliver here is a great artist, and Ashes designs their own line of jewelry. I know neither of them is a fashion designer, but they can definitely help you out.”

A replacement for the designer who’d been killed was the excuse we were using to explain his sudden trip to Las Vegas. I’d expected it to only be a cover and hadn’t realized he was going to actually bring people with him.

“Did you say we’ve got a new designer?” Deacon called from the other side of the room.

Like a broken jack-in-the box that didn’t bother waiting for the turn of a handle to pop up, Deacon stepped right into the center of our conversation and started asking Oliver and Ashes about their work.

I watched D’Angelo’s eyes grow wide in surprise and prepared to intervene if necessary. However, when Oliver and Ashes both responded to Deacon’s enthusiasm with equal energy, D’Angelo relaxed, so I did as well. The fond look in D’Angelo’s eyes for Oliver couldn’t have been more obvious. For his sake, I hoped this was a sign of trust in me. If he went around being this blatant in front of everyone, ally and enemy alike, he was going to put both himself and his lover in danger.

That was a lesson I needed to remember as well. In many ways I’d already been too obvious with Deacon, but I couldn’t bring myself to regret it.

Leaving the artists to their work, I brought D’Angelo into my office.

“I assume that man, Oliver, is yours?” I said as I took my formal seat behind my desk.

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