“You can’t be serious!” That snapped me out of it. “You want us to go on our honeymoon after everything that went down last night?”
“It was never a honeymoon.” Mil stopped halfway toward the bathroom and turned. “Vegas is close — but it’s also where my mom lives, one of the reasons I didn’t want to go.”
“Wait.” I shook my head. “Back up. Your mom’s alive?”
“A ghost,” Mil corrected. “Just like Sergio, only she may have the keys we need to fix this whole mess.”
“How do you figure?”
Mil was silent for a minute before answering in a quiet voice. “She has the ear of the Capo di Capi.”
I squeezed my eyes shut and tried to swallow as my body shook — not with anger — no this was pure raw fear. This was something unlike I’d ever experienced in my life.
“Tell me you didn’t just say Capo di Capi. Tell me we aren’t meeting with Vito Campisi.”
“We aren’t,” Mil answered.
I exhaled.
“We’re meeting with his wife.”
Chapter Fifteen
Mil
It had to be a bad sign that I was spending over half our wedding night and morning in the bathroom like a complete coward. Chase’s curses filled the otherwise peaceful morning air as I slammed the door shut and locked it.
Wouldn’t be the first time we’d woken up in the same bed angry at one another.
I’d chosen Chase because he was safe — I just didn’t know that he’d also be tempting as hell. There was something so attractive about his protectiveness — damn. I sounded like every other mafia wife out there. They loved the money, they loved the lifestyle, but mainly — they loved that their husbands were fiercely protective, fiercely loyal.
I closed my eyes and tried to focus. So many scenarios swam around my head that I felt dizzy. Balancing Chase and my family was going to be difficult. Balancing my feelings? Near impossible.
At least I could trust him. He would never betray me. That thought alone got me through the morning as I washed my face and put on fresh clothes. Vegas wasn’t for the faint of heart, and I was officially walking into the lions’ den. I wasn’t sure if we’d make it out alive.
I hadn’t planned past the meeting in Vegas, because I wasn’t sure how it would go. I’d tried to sleep but sleep wouldn’t come, so I planned. I went over and over all the connections I had, went through every scenario that would have us coming out of this alive. And all I was able to come up with was my mom.
Marrying Chase had bought me time as well as protection. And I needed both if I was going to be meeting with Tanya.
My hands trembled as I unlocked the bathroom door. I’d always wondered what it would be like, to know you only had twenty-four hours to live. Would I change anything? Would I be acting any different than I was in that moment? I pushed the door open and gasped.
Chase was texting someone, completely ignoring everything else going on in the universe, which of course gave me adequate time to take in his state of undress. Standing in nothing but a pair of ripped jeans, he looked like every girl’s fantasy. Thick, corded muscles lined his flat stomach, leading all the way up to cut shoulders. His tan back had more muscles than I was aware even existed on the human body.
Yes. I gulped. I would do something different.
If I knew I had twenty-four hours to live.
I’d spend every last one staring at him.
Even if it was staring and nothing more — I’d do it. My heart did a little flip in my chest as Chase lifted his eyes and grinned. “You look good, Mil.”
I gave a weak nod, using every ounce of strength I had to avert my eyes and appear disinterested.
“I’ll just put on a shirt then,” Chase mumbled.
Yes, do that. For the love of God, put on some clothes!
I sat on the bed and pretended to be looking at my cell phone, when I heard the zipper to his suitcase close.
“Let’s go.”
“Okay.” I shoved my phone in my jeans pocket and snatched my purse from the table. Chase carried our two suitcases into the elevator.
That damn elevator music was the only noise as we descended to the lobby. I wasn’t sure if I was making it awkward, or if it really was just awkward as hell. Neither of us moved when the elevator doors first opened, and then both of us moved at the same time. As his arm brushed mine, I groaned. Chase cursed and then said, “After you.”
I was like a scared rabbit getting chased by a fox. I practically ran to the front desk and waited for Chase.
“Checking out?” the guy asked without looking up.
“Yup,” Chase said from behind me, his hands braced my hips. What the—? I trembled and flashed a tight smile to the man, even though he still refused to look up.
“What room?” He cleared his throat.
“Presidential Suite,” Chase answered slowly, his lips almost grazing my ear.
“Ah, Mr. Abandonato.” The man’s hand shook as he typed on his computer. A bead of sweat ran down the side of his face. “And how was your stay?”
“Noisy,” Chase said. “A bit messy.”
I felt my cheeks heat.
The man finally looked up. His eyes darted between the two of us. “My apologies, if there is anything I can do to—”
“Actually…” Chase leaned forward using my body as a shield as I felt a gun slide from my back to my side, peeking out from my leather jacket. “I think there is something you can do.”
“Anything.” The man’s answer was too fast. He swallowed convulsively, his Adam’s apple bobbing up and down as his beady eyes blinked nervously.
“Next time someone offers you a ridiculous amount of money to give them access to the suites, just say no.”
“I’m not sure I know what you’re talking about.” The man’s deep timbre trembled slightly as he wiped his forehead.
“Life lesson number one.” I heard the hammer pull back. Shit. Was Chase really going to kill someone?
“I’m listening.” The man’s eyes pleaded with mine. I looked away.
“Big money always equals big messes that you’ll eventually be blamed for. They offer you a lot of money because what idiot says no to something like fifty grand? But trust me, it’s rare for a new associate to be able to spend all that money — especially when he’s dead. You’ll be collateral damage. And I hate collateral damage.”
I stole a peek at the guy’s face through the hair that had fallen across my face.
His eyes continued to dart from Chase to the rest of the lobby.
“Ask me.” Chase growled.
“Ask you?” the man repeated.
“Ask me why I hate collateral damage.”
“Why…” The man swore as a tiny bead of sweat slipped down his cheek and onto the countertop. “Why do you hate collateral damage?”
“Why, I’m glad you asked.” The gun was pushed further through my side so that it was visible to the guy. His eyes never left Chase’s. “You see, I hate getting my hands dirty, I hate cleaning up messes, but what I hate the most?” He paused. “When my poor wife has to be involved.”
The gun was aimed directly for the guy’s chest. I was pushed further into the counter, Chase still leaning heavily into my back. “Apologize.”
“I’m sorry, Mr. Aban—”
“Not to me, you jackass. To her,” he ordered. “My wife.”
The man stumbled over his words. “Miss, my utmost and sincere apologies for putting you in such a dangerous situation. If you ever do decide to stay with us again, know that this will be the last time anything of this — nature will take place.”
“Oh, I know.” I smiled and leaned back into Chase. “Because if it does, my husband will kill you.”