Page 79 of The Bonventi Rise
"She tried to have me killed." The words come out in a rush. "It had to have been her that made the Russians come after me."
Marco nods slowly and sets his coffee mug down. "You're right. So what are you suggesting?"
I take a second to organize my thoughts. "Well, we'll need proof of her connection to the Russians. If we can leak that to the press, her whole anti-corruption platform crumbles." My free hand clenches into a fist on the countertop. "She'd be exposed as the hypocrite she is, and the timing would be perfect. It's close enough to the election that she couldn't recover, but far enough out that the story has time to implode her campaign."
Marco takes a sip of his coffee. "She'd be done."
"Yeah," I say with a smile. "And you'd be Senator of Illinois."
There's a quiet that comes over us, but I'm buzzing with excitement. My mind is laser-focused on revenge.
"So, you need proof?"
"Yes, so, about that," I say, batting my eyes. "That's where you'd come in."
He studies me for a long moment, his dark eyes searching mine. Whatever he sees there must satisfy him because he nods. "Alright," he says. "But first, I need to know you're sure about this, Alina. Once we start down this path?—"
I cut him off, standing and rushing forward to capture his lips in a fierce kiss. When I pull back, I look right into his eyes. "I'm sure," I say firmly. "I'm all in, Marco. With you, with this—all of it. I mean, that bitch tried to have me killed."
Marco stares at me and gives me an inquisitive look.
"What?" I ask, trying to sound nonchalant.
"Nothing, it's just, well, seeing you like this. Edging into my world. It's very arousing," he says as his face breaks into a smile. "Anyway, it'll take a few days, but I'll get you what you need. They also hit one of our warehouses last night, so there's more at play than Sandra, but that's what we'll focus on. Gio and Zo can handle the rest."
I nod, satisfied. "So we'll put cement shoes on her then?"
Marco gives me a sarcastic look. "Okay, you need to stop with the Hollywood mobster talk," he says, laughing. "If people hear you say that, they'll think you're?—?"
"Crazy? Well, I'm crazy in love with you, so there's that."
Marco laughs as he stands. "Do you want to get some breakfast?" he asks.
I shake my head. "No, I'm not feeling well. Probably all the excitement from last night."
"Are you okay?"
"Oh yeah, it's nothing," I say, lying.
Marco hugs me, and my hands instinctively run up and down his back.
"Okay, well, I figured we'd stay here today. I'll head downstairs to the little grocery store and pick up a few things. Anything you want?"
"Just you," I say with a smile.
"I love you," he says and gives me a kiss.
Marco dresses and heads out. As the door closes behind him, I let out a deep breath. The nausea I've been fighting all morning intensifies, and I dash to the bathroom, barely making it in time.
I want to tell myself that it's from feeling overwhelmed about last night, but I know it's not the truth. This is the fourth morning in a row I've been sick. I've been trying to ignore it, to chalk it up to stress or bad food, but deep down, I know better. My period is late. I'm exhausted all the time. And now, this morning sickness.
I rinse my mouth and splash cold water on my face. Part of me wants to grab my phone and text Marco:Can you pick up a pregnancy test while you're out?
But I don't. We're on the brink of going to war with Sandra, and the election is coming. Just get through the next couple of weeks, I tell myself.
I need to stay focused on him and the campaign.
Also, I need to try and not die.
