Page 12 of Sinful Daughter (Dark Mafia Sins 2)

I wait longer than I should before I sit up in a crouch, double-checking the coast is clear. Scrambling away, I stay hidden. I need to get back to the station and call this in. My mind is swarming with this recent information I’ve learned. I take a step out in the open toward the road, when I hear tires approaching the area. Kneeling, I draw my gun, looking to see who has arrived.

Just by glancing at the car, I know it belongs to someone high up. The car is sleek, classic, and expensive. You don’t get to buy a car like that with a soldier’s pay. It stops, and I watch Aria step out of it. She moves her long dark hair from her face and behind her ears. Her hips sway, and she keeps looking over her shoulder.

I check for my second gun, but it’s missing. I quickly send off a text message to Grant to meet me near the Rossi compound before I decide if I want Aria to know I’m here.

She looks unfrazzled coming into the field. She doesn’t rush, walking like she owns the place. Stepping up to the body, she looms over it as I stand, deciding to allow my presence to be known. I go to clear my throat, excited to see her reaction. In one surprising, choppy movement, the man who I thought was dead rises. He’s got the element of surprise on Aria, and she falls to the ground with a yelp. He holds her down before straddling her frame. Without thinking, I shoot to kill without remorse.

The man’s body falls on her with an “oomph.” Pulling my phone out, my instinct is to call for an ambulance. My finger hovers over the call button before I place it back in my pocket. The man is dead. It was a clean shot. An ambulance now or an hour from now won’t change the outcome. I’ll call after I’ve dealt with Aria.

Walking toward her, I push the body off. Her eyes are wide. “I’m thinking your dad needs to fire your bodyguard,” I casually mention as I give her my hand to help her up.

“Yeah, you should go tell him that,” she sasses back at me. “I see you’re alive. I can go now.” She marches toward her car, but I grab her wrist. Her body visibly shakes, and she’s paler than normal.

“I’m driving.” I keep my hand on her wrist, holding my other hand out for the keys. When she refuses to hand them over, I yank them from her trembling fingers.

“Where are you driving?” she asks, chasing after me to catch up.

“I’m driving you home to where you’re safe,” I huff out. I need to be ready for whatever is happening, and Aria is slowing me down.

“That’s not happening.” She tries to get in front of me to block the door.

She’s adorable, thinking she can stop me. When I pause, my smile grows larger, and I bend down, picking her up around her thighs, and take her to the passenger side. Her tiny fists beat on my back like annoying mosquitoes.

“You know, I could have left you to fight off the dead guy,” I deadpan, squeezing her legs harder together.

“The only reason I was in that field was to make sure you were alive.” She pokes me in the back, trying to wiggle out of my grasp.

Letting her down, I trap her between the car and me. “Were you worried about me?” I lean into her space, and her breaths fan across my cheek.

She tries to cross her arms, but my chest is in her way. “Hardly.” Her perfume draws me in. She smells like honey and lavender.

“You’re more like me than you might think.”

She rolls her eyes. “Please, enlighten me.” Her tone is full of sass. I would love to sink my teeth into her plump bottom lip that sticks out.

“We both like to help people.”

Her gorgeous, round eyes narrow. “We may be similar, but we’ll never be on the same side.”

I take a step back, keeping my eyes glued on hers, refusing to be the first one to back down. I open the passenger door and gesture for her to take a seat.

“The only reason I’m allowing you to do this is because I feel bad for you,” she hisses, like I’m doing her some disservice.

I chuckle, closing her door and going around to the driver side.

“So, tell me. What’s a good guy like you doing mixing yourself up with a horrible person like me?”

I eye her from my side. She looks stunning with the car light shining down on her. Her attitude is refreshing. I’m starting to learn she doesn’t sugarcoat what she thinks.

“I never said you’re a horrible person. You like saving people just like me. The difference is we both go about it in different ways.”

“You know nothing about me.”

“Not true. I know you risked coming to a dangerous field to make sure I was breathing. You are a generous friend who tries to help by paying off drug dealers. If I were to make an educated guess, you are a fixer. You try to fix people and their problems. Where we are different is that I know when someone is a lost cause. Whileyouwill keep on trying to fix them.”

“Got it. You’re a quitter. When things get tough, you fuck off.”

A deep laugh escapes me, and I can’t help smiling. “I’m no quitter. I’m stubborn and dedicated, but I’m smart enough to realize when someone doesn’t want to be saved.”

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