Page 9 of Power
Instead, she exhales through her nose and shakes her head. “You really need a new hobby.”
“I’m plenty entertained.”
She glares at me, then pushes past, this time forcing me to step aside.
“So, considering you’re out here running around like it’s just another casual jog in the park,” I say, my tone almost bored. “I’d say your very protective husband is… well, maybe not as protective as you claim. If you’re still out here all alone.”
She hesitates—just for a fraction of a second—but I catch it. She turns, her expression unreadable, though I can see the calculation behind her eyes.
“I can take care of myself,” she says finally.
I let out a short laugh. “Yeah? Tell that to the guy who almost raped you.”
“I don’t owe you an explanation.”
“No, you don’t,” I agree easily. “But you do owe someone the truth.” I tilt my head slightly. “And I don’t think it’s me you’re lying to.”
That gets to her. The muscle in her jaw jumps, and for a moment, she looks like she might say something real. Something honest. But then she blinks and schools her features back into that careful neutrality.
“This conversation is over,” she mutters, turning on her heel. “If that’s all, I’ve got a run to finish.”
I take a step closer, not giving her the space she’s expecting. “Don’t go yet. I’m just trying to get to know you better.”
Her eyes narrow. “Is that so? Or are you just trying to get information for some other scheme of yours?”
I chuckle softly. “Maybe a little bit of both. But mostly… I’m curious. You’ve got a story, I can tell. Everyone does.”
Her lips tighten like she’s about to tell me to get lost, but instead, she surprises me. “You think you can figure me out that easily?”
I lean in slightly, close enough for her to feel my breath. “You’ve got a lot of secrets, don’t you?”
She’s silent, as if weighing her options. The pause stretches on longer than I expected.
Finally, she says, “You’re right about one thing. I do have secrets. But I guess you’ll never know.”
I smile. “We’ll see about that.”
And with that, I turn and walk off, leaving her behind, though I can almost hear the wheels turning in her head. I let her go, but something about the whole exchange sticks with me. Maybe it was the way she was so quick to act like everything was fine, or maybe it was the tightness in her voice when she talked about her husband.
***
When I get home, I find Enzo’s right-hand man, Sergio, waiting in my office. He doesn’t bother with pleasantries. Neither do I.
Sergio wasn’t an easy man to turn. Enzo trusted him for years—loyal, disciplined, the kind of soldier who didn’t ask questions. But everyone has a breaking point.
For Sergio, it was money at first. A few quiet deals, some extra cash slipped his way, nothing big enough to raise suspicion. Then came the real leverage—his brother. A gambling problem that had spiraled into a life-or-death situation with the wrong people. Enzo? He didn’t lift a damn finger to help. Didn’t even pretend to care.
I did. Helping out with my police connect for a lighter sentence.
And that was the beginning of the end for his loyalty.
“Ready to move on this?” I ask, lowering myself into the chair, meeting his eyes head-on.
Sergio nods, his eyes cold. “We’ve got a plan in place. It should be quick. I know the drill. We take her, make it look like an accident, get her to you; no one’s the wiser.”
“Good,” I murmur, feeling a small surge of satisfaction.
The night comes faster than I expected, and by the time we’ve moved in on her, it’s almost too easy. Sergio and my men are swift and efficient, like shadows. The sedative works just as planned—one minute, she’s running, and the next, she’s unconscious in our hands.
