Page 8 of Dangerous Secrets

It's too late. The poison, whatever it is, has already completely drained out of the small dart into his chest. "Fuck's sake!" I shout and Alex taps my shoulder.

"We got company..." he says. I have no time to think or react. I hoist Dimitri, blood and all, to my shoulder and move swiftly up the alley. He's heavy, but I can't leave him behind.

By the time we get to my car the bleeding has stopped and he is well and truly dead. Alex pops the trunk and I lay him into it, but something is nagging at me. I hold the dart from his chest and look at it. The fletching is fine, like a feather, red in color and light weight. Who, in this day and age, uses a dart gun? I bring the thing to my nose and inhale; some poisons have a distinct scent, but all I smell is something sweet, like saffron and sage. It’s a women’s perfume.

“What is it?” Alex hovers nearby, probably quivering and grateful to be alive.

“I’m not sure,” I tell him before shutting the trunk with our fallen soldier inside. “But I intend to find out, and when I do the person who shot Dimitri will go down.”

Mark my words…

6

BIANCA

Istand behind the large open umbrella watching the scene unfold across the street. Rome doesn’t know how to keep to himself, and his nosiness has gotten him in some trouble again. But he’s no weak man. The way he carries his friend to safety is remarkable. I’ve felt the strength of those arms a few times and it’s no laughing matter. He and his friend are trying to get away to save their buddy, but he’s gone already. The poison on that dart kills instantly.

Clipping my clutch shut I begin walking. There is no sense in staying here at the scene of a crime to watch it all unfold. Everyone in the area will be questioned and my face can’t be connected to any crime scene. It never has been because I maintain my distance. Besides, I have other things to do today than sit around and wait for the police to see my signature weapon, and Rome looked right at me. From that distance there is no way he recognized me.

My heels click on the sidewalk as I weave in and out of the strangers filling the sidewalk. New York has more people than seems physically possible, and they always seem to be walking these damn sidewalks. It’s something I’ve gotten used to though it still annoys me at times.

Less than a block away from the coffee shop where I stood to observe Rome and his friends, my brother catches up to me. I didn’t realize he was even around, though it makes sense. If Mickey isn’t pleased with the way I’m handling this job, sending Tony to watch me and make sure I’m doing it is the next logical step. It’s a good thing I’m an excellent shot too. With the action there it was easy to intentionally miss my target and hit Rome’s buddy instead of him.

“Keep walking, Bianca. No one needs to know you were there.” Tony’s grumbles are unnecessary though I know it’s his brotherly compassion kicking in. He doesn’t want me arrested any more than I want it.

“What are you doing here?” I tuck my clutch under my arm and continue moving. This dress isn’t the most typical attire for me to wear during a hit, but I knew it wasn’t going to be the true hit anyway. I have to make it look like I’m after him without actually killing him. Not only do I want to take all five of them out at once, I want to do it once I’ve had my fun. Roman is too intoxicating for me to be able to cut him loose yet.

“You ought to know why I’m here. Mickey sent me to watch you.” We sidestep a large homeless woman begging for money and Tony scoffs in disgust. “These people can’t just get jobs like the rest of us?”

“They are homeless, T. Kinda hard to shower for a job interview when you have no shower.” I roll my eyes at him and reach into my bra to pull out a dollar, which I drop into her hand and keep walking. I’m not heartless. I understand what it’s like to not have a penny to your name. It’s a right of passage for every made man—or woman in my case.

“Well, they smell.” He snorts and chortles then grabs my elbow as we continue walking. “You missed. You’re off your game. Is it because you’ve been getting close to him? You’re not thinking clearly?” His voice is quieter now, so no one around us can hear him but I catch every single word. He’s doubting my ability which is a natural side effect to me purposefully missing a shot. There is nothing I can do about that now.

“No.” My short reply saves me from a bigger explanation, one I’d have to repeat to Mickey and my other brothers.

“Well, you can’t come off as weak here, Bianca. Mickey doesn’t play games. I’m worried about you.” I hear real compassion in his tone as he speaks. This isn’t the Tony who is ultra-loyal to the Don. This is my brother who regrets dragging me into this nonsense years ago when we had no other choice but to forge forward after our parents’ deaths.

“I’m not weak, Tony, and I didn’t miss.” I let the words slip off my tongue without thinking. I’m angry that he would question my ability and it’s leading me to make mistakes.

“You meant to hit his partner?” Tony pulls me out of the flow of foot traffic and pins me against the wall. His eyes are alight with angry flames, narrowed to bear down on me with the weight of all of his wrath.

“I meant… I didn’t gauge the wind.” I swallow hard. “My aim was true and when the traffic on the street zoomed past it created an eddy of air that caught my dart. Those feather fletching’s are so sensitive. You know that.” Doing my best to keep my facial expression calm, I take a slow deep breath. “You honestly think I’m failing? Need my eyes checked or something? How many kills have I made in the last three months?”

“And you haven’t missed once. Not with your gun, not with your poison, not with your darts.” He’s right to question me and I have no way to defend myself here, except to hold to my guns about the air currents because of traffic. I push him back and smooth my dress with one hand while taking my clutch into the other.

“I do not have to answer to you.” I barely take a single step when his iron grip clamps down on my elbow again.

“No, you don’t. You have to answer to Mickey, and he will want answers. I’m trying to protect you, sister. Who else will say that in this world?” Tony forces me to face him and I whimper as his thumb digs into the crook of my elbow.

“Stop, that hurts.”

“Listen to me. He’s not playing a fucking game. You have to take out the five of them soon or you’re getting cut loose, and you know what that means.”

My brother’s words ring true. I’ve seen how Mickey “cuts people loose” and it terrifies the fuck out of me. I look into Tony’s eyes as I remember one particular soul who found himself being cut loose. Mickey had his ankles tied to a fifty-gallon drum filled with cement and dropped off the garbage barge in the bay. His bloated, rotting corpse surfaced a month later missing its feet, which still haven’t been found to this day.

“I care about you, Bianca. You’re playing with fire. You can’t be sleeping with the enemy. Roman Gusev is your target, not your fuck boy. End that, and then end him—and his brothers. Because if I know about this, it’s only a matter of time before Mickey finds out.”

I wrestle my arm out of Tony’s hand and rub the spot on my elbow where he was grabbing me so tightly. I’ll have a bruise there now, thanks to him, and it will be yet another part of my body that needs to be covered by makeup, so I’m not questioned about my private matters.

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