Page 32 of Dangerous King
She floors through a yellow light that turns red as we fly down the intersection. When I turn back, I see the tank and a black SUV following us, turning their lights on and off, while a cacophony of honks slowly dies down.
Izzy's phone begins to ring.
"Let me guess, you like to keep the guards on their toes as well," I wager.
She snickers. "I knew we'd get along."
A moment of silence follows, a moment where the world just blurs all around me because Izzy is driving so fast. My thoughts are jumbled, but one keeps returning: "Aren't you scared of pissing your brother off?"
Izzy laughs, "Life is too short to worry about things like that. Besides, he's not going to hurt me."
"But what about last night?" I press out, still holding on to the handle for dear life while Izzy takes a curve too fast, cutting off a motorist who gives us the bird. "Aren't you scared that if you lose the guards, that might happen again?"
She turns her head from the road to me, making my heart fall into my stomach with fear. She looks serious now. "I realize nowthat there is always danger," she says, still looking at me. I can't turn my eyes from hers. "But I refuse to let fear rule my life, and those guards," she looks over her shoulder, giving me the sudden urge to grab the steering wheel, "they better keep up. Otherwise, I'll have Enrico fire them."
Her attention finally returns to the road, and a deep sigh of relief escapes me. But her words ring true, making me realize that Izzy is like me —a tornado can come down on us, but we'll stand in its center, holding up our middle finger.
"You and me," Izzy says, reflecting my thoughts, "nothing that doesn't kill us will keep us down."
Ten minutes later, we pull up by the Valet parking in front of a mall I know well. Izzy throws the keys at a young man. "Take it for a spin," she winks at him.
The tank pulls up behind us, followed by the SUV. Enrico gets out of the monstrosity, while six burly men in sunglasses and suits emerge from the other SUV. His face is a mask of fury. Did I say I wasn't afraid of him? I guess that was a lie, because right now, my heart moves up into my throat, skipping a beat.
"What part ofslow downdon't you understand, Izzy?" He thunders. Looking me up and down, he asks, "Are you okay?"
I manage a nod, preparing myself for Enrico's inevitable strike on Izzy. That's what Giovanni or Roberto would have done with Camilla. But Izzy only laughs. "What, couldn't keep up with your sister in that monster of a car?"
"That was reckless, and you know it," he scolds, but now I notice that he's trying hard to hold back a smirk.
Puzzled, I look from one to the other. Izzy nudges me with her elbow. "Guess who taught me how to drive?"
Automatically, I glance at Enrico, whose frown returns. "Had I known that getting you that Lamborghini would turn you into a Formula One driver, I would have bought you a Hummer."
Izzy laughs. "I might need that yet." Then she tilts her head. "Are you going shopping with us?"
He holds up his watch, giving the impression that he needs to be somewhere. An impatient expression crosses his features, and he looks at Izzy first and then at me. I can't get a read on the way his eyes hold mine, but a long, exasperated sigh escapes him. "I was going to ask you to pick up some ties for me, but after your stunt, I suppose I am here now."
"Oh, yay," Izzy expresses without much enthusiasm. She sends an apologetic smile at me. "Sorry, I thought we'd have fun."
"You'll still have fun,mocciosa—brat."
"Doubtful," Izzy giggles.
Their little spat gets interrupted by Enrico's phone. Izzy uses his distraction to pull me into the mall, which I've been insidea hundred times. It's Camilla's favorite shopping place too.Oh Dio, what if we run into her?
"Alright, let's start here with some underwear for you." Izzy pulls me into the high-end lingerie boutique, sending a daring grin at her brother, who stays outside, but motions for two guards to go in after us. It doesn't take long for them to chase out the other five women in the shop.
"What do you like?" she asks, perusing a rack of panties, ignoring the enraged shouts of one of the women. Speechless, I stare after the woman, and notice the other guards blocking the entrance to anybody else who wants to come in.
"Cat, what about these?" Izzy holds up a thong, turning my attention to her and the slip of material she's holding up—no price tag, of course. When you have this kind of money, you don't worry about something as mundane as a price tag.
I'm drawn to the lacy thong. I've never owned anything like this. Thankfully, I never had to wear Camilla's hand-me-down underwear, but there is no comparison between this and the white cotton briefs lying forgotten in my dresser at the Giordano's mansion.
"You like this?" Izzy asks.
I finger the light, feathery material. It's a wisp of nothing. But I feel myself nodding.
"We'll take one in each color," Izzy announces, and a sales lady comes running. "Same for this." She holds up a second lacy nothing that caught her attention.
