My apartment was out.
But if this fuck followed me to her apartment, that was out too.
I could go to Cosimo.
Or maybe Miko.
Even as I thought of them, though, I knew they weren’t options. Cosimo had taken the family to the mountains to decompress before the holiday.
And Miko? Miko was spending time with his giant-ass family.
“Venezio?”
“I’m not sure yet,” I admitted. “But let’s get above ground.”
Steph made a barely audible whimper but moved along with me, each step making her wince.
“God, I haven’t been all the way out here in ages,” Steph said as we made our way to the street, the brittle air biting at every inch of exposed skin as we both looked around, both equally unsure of what came next.
The storefronts were alive with displays and lights.
Each time a door of the coffee shop beside us opened, carols spilled out onto the street.
“Me either,” I agreed, looking out at the whole of Spanish Harlem. “I think I know somewhere we can go to decompress,” I said, stepping out, throwing up an arm, and hailing a cab.
Steph, thankfully, blindly followed, keeping her thoughts to herself, which allowed me a couple of minutes to try to sort through my own.
“What is this?” she asked a few minutes later as we pulled up outside of a warehouse that used to operate as a storage facility for a mid-level arms dealer. Who was now clumsy Ant’s wife.
These days, the building was a legit construction business that the Family funneled an insane amount of money through. And that we relied on for all our personal renovation needs, so no one had to worry about a rival crew or the law planting a bug in someone’s house.
“A friend’s business,” I said, walking up to the front door and pressing a finger into the fingerprint scanner.
Anyone who might need to use the place to drop off cash had a profile in the system.
“A fingerprint scanner?” Steph asked, brows scrunched up.
“He’s a fan of security,” I said. It wasn’t a lie. I just wasn’t sure there was a reason to tell Stephanie the truth just yet.
“This is a construction firm?” she asked, checking the sign as we moved inside.
Ant must have the heat lowered at night to just high enough to keep the pipes from freezing because it wasn’t the warm and cozy inside that I was hoping to give her. But it was better than the sharp cold outside.
“Why are we at a construction firm?” she asked, following me across the tile floor that looked like hardwood. Ant was a fan of the shit. If anyone wanted to put that click stuff in, he always convinced them to go with the tile instead.
Looks the same but is practically indestructible.
I flicked on lights as we moved through the common workspace, then into Ant and Saylor’s office.
It had all glass walls that, with the touch of a button, could go completely frosted for privacy.
The inside featured a large desk, but also a plush couch.
“Here, sit,” I said, bringing her over to the couch. When she sat, I lowered onto the coffee table, then took each of her legs into my lap in turns, removing her heels.
“Are they full of blood?” she asked as I set the shoes down.
“No blood. But you have some blisters forming. Here,” I said, sliding my finger across one. “And here.”
