Page 37 of Let It Snow
For a minute or two, I dive into my favorite fantasy of being just some ordinary guy who slips through a crowd without anyone noticing. No strange powers to hide from the world. No past as a mafia captive.
But oh well, that’s just a dream, unreal, empty.
It is what it is.
I’m a former mafia bride. Would any alpha want someone with baggage like that anyway?
I dart a quick glance at Lake, completely unaware of my musings, just driving innocently, with a soft smile on his lips.
But my head just keeps rolling, obsessing, stressing. To be honest, I don’t even know what tomorrow will bring.
The FBI could show up at the door wanting me to testify; after all, my husband was arrested. Or the other mafia members (Rocco Ferro?) could send guys after me to settle the score. Or there could be some other reason that forces me to move out, to run. Nothing is set in stone, my future hazy.
I’m just a shadow for now, a ghost of someone whose story hasn’t been fully told. There’s no place in my world for a romance, right? And yet here I am, worrying foolishly about what Snow thinks about me, somebody I barely even know. Crazy.
We drive a few more minutes until we reach a big shopping mall.
As we pull into the underground parking garage, I notice a large group of people minding their business near parked cars, and a wave of unease hits me again. Instinctively, I shrink into myself, pulling the baseball cap down low over my forehead, shading my face.
What if someone recognizes me? Calls the police:Oh, I saw Anzo Ferro’s husband, maybe you want to ask him a few questions?Or posts me on social media and the mafia spots me?
Lake notices my nervousness right away.
"Listen," he says gently, "there are a couple of stores in the side wings of the mall. Quieter ones. We’ll take a back hallway to avoid the main corridor."
I don’t want to make a scene, so I follow him out of the car.
Sure enough, there’s a side elevator at the edge of the garage, not the big one in the middle.
Lake presses the button for the third floor.
But just as the doors are closing, two alphas stumble in.
They reek of booze, talking loudly about some baseball game. When the elevator jolts upward, one of them finally looks our way and whistles.
"Well, look at this, Al. Two smokin’ hot omegas in one ride. Don’t see that every day."
Lake stays calm, but I feel a rush of stress and shame. My eyes go straight to the security camera in the corner. Maybe someone is watching, maybe not.
Both men grin at us, slimy and loud. Their energy way too intense.
Shit. If they try anything… what am I supposed to do? Use my power? I’ve been taught my whole life to stay hidden, keep my head down, avoid confrontation. And protect my secret.
One of the alphas leans toward Lake.
"So where are you pretty things heading, huh? Need us to show you around? Keep you safe?"
"Thanks," Lake answers smoothly, "but we know the way."
The elevator is almost at the third floor.
"Oh, come on. Everything’s better with company. You never know what could happen to two cuties like you."
The doors chime open.
I bolt out first, eager to get out of the camera’s view and away from these creeps. But of course, they follow us.
Heat rushes through me. The elevator has dumped us into a side corridor; it’s empty except for us. The main walkway is maybe fifty yards away.
