She settles deeper into the seat, getting comfortable. “Information worth killing for.”
“Worth dying for, apparently.”
The pieces, while there, still don’t fit together yet. Benny. MJ. The Rezniks. Gio Falcone. What connects them? What secret was valuable enough to get my brother killed?
Aurora watches me, her expression thoughtful. “Wanna grab some ice cream?”
The question startles me. Has anyone ever asked me to get ice cream before? “That sounds good.” Despite the weight suffocating my chest, I smile at the surprise that flits across her features. “You earned it.”
We drive in silence for ten minutes, my mind sifting through everything we just learned. Benny had intel that multiple families were interested in. Something connected to MJ and his “suicide.” I run through possibilities, connections, and angles, so focused on the puzzle that I almost miss Aurora’s sudden hiss and the way she presses her hand against the passenger window like a child spotting a toy store.
“Stop! Pull over!” She practically bounces in her seat while pointing to a cluster of tents and tables spread across an empty lot. “Flea market!”
I frown at the crowd. With all the people milling about, there are too many variables, too many unknowns. Potential threats everywhere. “Too crowded. And what about the ice cream?”
“Five minutes. The ice cream can wait.” Her eyes brighten with excitement. “I need more materials. This is perfect.”
I hesitate, weighing risks against her obvious longing. Yesterday, someone almost killed her, and now she wants to wander through a public market. While I don’t expect assassins to be lurking in bumfuck nowhere, it pays to be cautious.
Going against every instinct, I signal and pull into the lot. Vibrating with anticipation, she scrambles out of the car before I can even shift into park. I switch off the engine and trail behind her, scanning for threats, watchers, or anything out of place.
Old habits.
Necessary habits in my world for those who want to survive.
The market is a maze of tables piled with junk. Old furniture, tarnished jewelry, books with broken spines, clothes that smell of mothballs and forgotten closets. People rush past each other,haggling in multiple languages. Too much noise and far too many bodies and blind spots for comfort.
Aurora doesn’t clue in to my tension as she flits from table to table with purpose. She passes jewelry, vintage clothing, and old records without a second glance.
After scanning and rejecting a few more vendors, she halts at a junk-laden table. “Look! Oyster shells! Aren’t they great?”
To me, they’re garbage. The discarded remnants of someone’s dinner. But she cradles the shells like they’re diamonds, tracing the ridged surfaces and pearlescent interiors.
This woman finds beauty where I see nothing.
Possibility where I only notice waste.
As she hums with happiness underneath the harsh sunlight of the parking lot, a weight settles in my chest. If I’m not careful, I could fall for this woman.
Or maybe it’s already too late.
Chapter 32
Aurora
Today’s been a perfect day. Or as close to perfect as one can be considering that yesterday afternoon, my unplanned engagement to one of the most powerful men in the Russian mob ended in me getting shot at…while shopping for a wedding dress.
After the impromptu stop at the flea market, Alexei and I decided to forego the ice cream and enjoy dinner at a cozy little hole-in-the-wall Italian restaurant with phenomenal food, including the tiramisu we shared for dessert. Who would have thought lasagna would be a Russian mobster’s favorite food?
I should have guessed as much, considering that’s what he fed me after he kidnapped me and brought me to his loft to question me.
While we were finishing up at the restaurant, Alexei got a call from Kolya. After dropping me off at the loft and extracting my promise to behave, he left to take care of Kolya’s urgent business.
For the last couple hours, I’ve spent my time lounging on the couch with a sleeping Pixie while scrolling through articles about art techniques and trying to get inspiration for my next few mosaic pieces.
Aka,behaving.
My phone buzzes in my hand, and Alexei’s name flashes on the screen.
