Page 91 of Wrapped in Silver

He smiles sadly, then leans in for a slower, more comforting kiss.

“It’s been a short and wild ride hasn’t it, kid?”

“Stop.”I grab his chin playfully. “What’s with you grown men and all the drama?Hm?C’mon, get your things.”

He squints his eyes and scoffs at me. “Excuse me?”

“You heard me, Silver. We’re going for a ride.”

“Are we now?”

“Yep.” I run up the stairs to grab a pair of black sneakers, knowing I’m going to look like ghetto trash with red blotches down my face from crying and black sneakers to go with chic dress, but it’s all I got!

When I get downstairs, I see him holding up a brand-new pair of Louboutins that match perfectly with what I’m wearing, making my breath hitch another time.

“Silver…how?”

“Is it strange that I like to watch you when you think no one’s looking?”

Embarrassment and warmth swirls together like a confusing storm. Did I sing to myself, or do anything stupid besides twirl in front of a mirror?

“Positively creepy.” I strut up to him, still barefoot, and stop inches from him. One hand squeezes his leg as I lean up to kiss him on the cheek and snag the dazzling new shoes. “But worth it, I guess.” My eye lingers on him as I turn around.

Looking at the red bottoms, I would never dream of spending this kind of money on shoes. The accountants drilled frugal spending into my head. This man is too much.

Once I strap my new shoes and jam on my wig, I stand again.

“Why is the cellar door locked?” Silver asks.

“Because—let the big bear sleep while we play.”

Chapter 26

Quinn

Silver never looked hotter. He freshened up for me. Grey suit, blue tie, big-faced crystal blue watch, and streaks of silver and black beard echoing his full head of hair. And underneath all those expensive clothes? He’s Adonis.

I grab onto his arm, dragging him toward a Mediterranean restaurant I always wanted to try.Athena’s Delight.I was careful not to pick one where the staff had seen me before, or one where I could bump into someone. The wig and shit make-up helps, but living twenty-four years in mid New Jersey leaves little to the imagination in terms of neighbors.

Alas, nothing to worry about here.

“This was your big plan to woo me?” he jokes.

We look through the glass to a cozy candle-lit atmosphere with a white chandelier and blue-white tiles up the wall to emanate Greece vibes.

“How am I doing?” I wink at him.

“It’s working.” There’s a hint of sadness in his eyes, but he masks it with his million-dollar smile. With his beard this trim, I can see one dimple too, which almost distracts me from the looming reaper supposedly paying a visit tomorrow… at my old house.

Terrible images of him being executed by a bratva brigadier makes me swallow past a lump in my throat.

Death is in the air. I can feel it. And I’ll do everything I can to stop it.

The door closes behind us.

“Table for two,” I say.

“Reservation?”

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