Page 90 of Ruthless King
“What about Tony or Mickey?”
“It won’t be under my order.”
My throat thickens, raw emotion tearing up my airway.
“Everything is going to be okay, Stellina, I promise, just trust me.” He twirls me around and folds me into his firm chest.
I want to believe him so badly. Breathing him in, I soak up that spicy scent that drives me wild and in the same instant, soothes my frayed nerves. He runs his hand down my arm, then entangles his fingers with my own.
“Come on, Mickey’s waiting for us in the garage.”
* * *
I must wince when the limo pulls up in front of the yellow awning of the familiar pawn shop because Luca’s fingers tighten around my hand. I can’t believe it was only a month ago I came here like ascematrying to save my dad. It seems like a lifetime ago.
Mickey opens the door to the backseat, and Tony’s hulking shadow appears through the doorway. His thick, dark brows are gnarled. “He never showed,capo.”
With those four words, my stomach plummets.
Luca lets loose a string of curses so vile even Tony’s eyes look like they’re going to pop out of his head. He motions to his right-hand man. “Get in, we’re going to his house.”
Tony folds his big form into a pretzel to enter the vehicle, then slides into the backseat beside Luca. They exchange a few words, but I can barely focus on their discussion over the maddening thunder of my heart.
He didn’t even show up.
An entire month of no contact with his only daughter, and my dad didn’t even have the decency to come in person and admit he didn’t have the money. I’m not a completeidiota. I knew he had no way of scrounging up two thousand dollars. But to not come at all?
Luca doesn’t even look at me as Mickey weaves the big ass limo through the crowded streets of China Town. His thigh pressed against mine vibrates with rage, his entire body stiff. An icy chill blankets my skin with each second he ignores me. I know he’d never hurt me, but what about my father?
The ruthless leader of the Kings couldn’t let this sort of disrespect go unpunished.
That ten-minute ride is the longest of my life. When we pull up in front ofNonna Maria’s,I dig through my purse until my fingers close around the small metal canister. Not pepper spray like last time. Only my inhaler. I turn away from Luca and take a quick puff, but there’s no way he wouldn’t hear the distinctive hiss.
Still, he doesn’t offer a reassuring word.
Mickey opens the back door on Tony’s side, and he and Luca slip out. I hurry after them, but our loyal driver is already closing it. “No!” I shout.
Luca’s gaze remains trained straight ahead. “Don’t let her out of the car,” he mutters to Mickey.
“Luca!” I shout. “Don’t do this!” I slam my fists into the door, screaming. “Please, Luca, no!”
Everything is going to be okay, Stellina, I promise, just trust me. His words from earlier echo in my mind with each punch to the unyielding glass. Knowing Luca, it’s probably bulletproofed. Not that he’d be stupid enough to leave me with a gun again.
I scramble across the backseat and search the secret compartment all the same. Empty.
Crawling back to the door where Mickey stands guard, I hiss out a volley of curses. “Mickey, please, let me out, please! I need to see my father.”
The big goon ignores me, his broad shoulders blocking half the window. From the narrow rearview window, I can just make out Mrs. D. and her son, Giuseppe. Both are poking their heads out of the bakery take-out window.
Did they hear me?
I bang on the windows a few more times and wave frantically. Mrs. D. nods slowly and elbows her son. The pair disappears from the window and re-emerges a few desperately long minutes later at the front door of the bakery. Mrs. D. carries a plateful of cannoli, and Giuseppe follows a couple steps behind. If I wasn’t so terrified, my mouth would’ve been watering at the sight of the fresh pastries.
“Buongiorno,” says Mrs. D. and offers the plate to Mickey. “I make an extra batch. I know how Signor Valentino likes his cannoli.”
Mickey reaches for one of the tasty treats, and Giuseppe nails him with a right hook. Damn. I had no idea Giuseppe had moves like that. Mickey’s head bounces against the limo before his giant body collapses to the floor.
Mrs. D. wrenches the car door open, and I wrap my arms around her neck and press a kiss to each cheek. “Stella,cosa è successo?”
