Page 55 of Queen of Blades

He shook his head. “You need your strength.”

She rolled her eyes and took a seat at the table. What he’d made smelled absolutely divine. “I’m fine.”

When her stomach rumbled, he arched a brow at her.

“I mean, since you went to all this trouble, I will eat. I’m just saying you didn’t have to.”

He returned his focus to the sink. “I’m leaving in twenty minutes, after my shower. I called my cousin Sam to come hang out with you.”

As she poked at her eggs with the fork, she peered up at him. “I thought you said I’d be alone.”

After drying the pan, he reached for a pod of coffee from the box on the counter. “You didn’t seem thrilled with that idea, and it probably wasn’t a good one, to be honest.”

She nodded and stuffed some western scrambled eggs into her mouth. Covering it, she asked, “Do I know Sam?”

“Sort of,” Paul said as he placed a mug under the spout of the coffee maker and pushed the button. “He worked at the laundromat back then too. Not sure you saw him much, though.”

From his pocket, he pulled out his phone and approached Harper. He tapped the screen a few times and then offered it to her.

“This is Sam.”

Harper narrowed her eyes and scanned the picture on the screen. He was a lean guy, with short, well-styled brown hair and sharp brown eyes. The ghost of a beard decorated his chin. It was like one of those purposeful five-o’clock shadows men wore. He was only slightly familiar, but she was grateful for the reference.

“So, he’s on his way?” she asked.

Tucking the phone back into his pocket, Paul shook his head again. “No. He’ll be by after lunch. So, you’ll only have an hour or two by yourself.”

She didn’t like the sound of that. Unease crawled up her spine and swirled around in her chest.

“But remember,” he said as he hooked a finger under her chin, drawing her focus back to him. “You can always hide in the storm shelter if you want, and it won’t be too long. You’re safe here.”

Swallowing hard, she did her best to believe him. Even nodding, because if she said the words, she’d be lying. It didn’t feel right to be left alone in this house by herself—there were too many variables—but she trusted Paul. If he thought it was a good idea, she’d have to go with it.

What other choice did she have?

He cupped her cheek and stroked her bottom lip with his thumb before placing a reassuring peck on her forehead. “I have to take a shower. Your coffee will be ready in a minute. There’s milk in the refrigerator and some sugar in the cabinet if you need it.”

30

Paul

Forthefirsttimein all his life, Paul arrived at a meetingearly. After driving around the parking lot of the closed restaurant, he chose a spot and continued to scan, looking for any signs of ambush. His family and the Colombians weren’t at war—that he knew of. Actually, considering Eddie’s work with them, they were on pretty decent terms with Sebastián, but that meant nothing. Things could change at the drop of a hat. Everything was up in the air considering the events that occurred over the last few days.

Money ruled their world. A man’s alliances were sold to the highest bidder. Niall Doherty, the leader of the Irish Mafia, had deep pockets. Considering Paul had recently pissed him off, and he’d placed a bounty on Paul’s head, yeah, Sebastián may rethink his allegiances. All he could hope for was that Eddie was an excellent partner in their dealings, and it was far more lucrative for him to keep the status quo than to collect from the Irish. To Paul’s knowledge, his brother had always been good to Sebastián.

Time would tell.

When the gunmetal-gray Audi S8 pulled up beside him, the muscles in his jaw relaxed. Tension still crawled through his body, but he did his best to keep a stern expression and appear calm. He needed his wits about him if he was going to survive this meeting.

Fear was a cancer no syndicate needed. It would take an organization down faster than the speed of sound. Most of the corruption, backstabbing, and problems within a crew came down to fear. He wouldn’t do that to his family—they’d worked too hard to get where they were.

Exiting the car, Paul buttoned the jacket of his navy Tom Ford suit and once again surveyed the area. Aside from a smattering of empty cars, everything seemed quiet. Nothing seemed overtly—or covertly—threatening. Normally, he was aware of his surroundings, as his line of work demanded it, but today he was extra vigilant. He truly wished to avoid getting shot today. Bullets aimed at him had been a far too common occurrence lately.

The rear passenger door of Eddie’s sedan opened, and Joseph Ricci, Paul’s father and the head of their syndicate, exited. His pale, almost gray, blue eyes narrowed as he, too, did a sweep of the parking lot while buttoning the jacket of his black bespoke suit. Eddie got out next and rounded the car. Everyone had arrived.

As Paul approached his father, he extended his hand. As they shook, he leaned in and clapped his dad on the back as they hugged. Joseph returned the gesture.

“Let’s make this quick. The longer it lasts, the worse it will be,” he murmured.

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