I shot him sharp look. “She wants honesty.”
He laughed “You’re so screwed.”
“Say that again.” I straightened, ready to go a round or two with him.
“Chill, will you.” He held up a hand as if that would shield him from me. “I meant you’re really trying. Which is worse. Because now you can’t fake it.”
“The fuck.” I clenched my jaw. “I’ve never faked anything in my life.”
“Right,” Rayden replied, dryly. “You just terrorize sincerity into submission.”
I considered that revelation for a moment. “She scares me.” The words were out before I could stop them.
Instead of laughter, both men looked at each other, their expressions undisguised surprise. Silence lingered, stiffening my spine with each breath.
“That’s new,” Lorenzo remarked, his gaze never leaving my face.
“She doesn’t flinch,” I explained, remembering Ishika’s reactions to my world since meeting me. She might call me a monster but there was no fear. “Doesn’t want or ask for protection. Doesn’t pretend she doesn’t see what I am.”
“And that bothers you?” Lorenzo asked.
“It complicates things.”
“So,” Rayden said. “What do you want from this outing?”
I didn’t answer right away, instead I studied my hands, a killer’s hands. They had no right holding a woman likeher. “Strangely, I want her to smile without it costing her something.”
Rayden exhaled softly. “Okay. That’s a start.”
“Don’t get sentimental.” I strove for my usual indifference.
“I won’t.” He grinned. “But if you want my advice, forget a restaurant. Take her somewhere that calms you, a place you forget to be Remo, the brutal underboss and become just a man.” He looked at Lorenzo, his smile unadulterated affection. “Somewhere that doesn’t threaten her or you.”
Where the fuck could I take her without being recognized. The Rossi named controlled most States, starting with New York. I pushed up from the seat. “I’ll give it some thought.”
“Oh,” Rayden added. “Don’t buy her something expensive, rather go for something that says you were paying attention.”
I paused, giving my chin a rub. “If this goes badly, I’m blaming you.”
He smiled. “If it goes well, you’ll pretend this conversation never happened.”
“You know me well, fuckface,” I taunted, reminding him who I was. He scowled and Lorenzo laughed. “Night.” I headed for the exit.
“Remo?” My brother stopped me. I turned. “There’s quiet beauty in imperfection for men like us and the right person will look beyond that limitation, if they care.” He glanced at Rayden, his expression softening then back at me. “Something tells me she does so don’t try too hard. Just be yourself.”
My answer was just a simple nod before I left. In the basement, I lit a cigarette, taking a long drag. Thoughts of her messed with my head. As I drove, I wondered what she’d say if she knew I asked for help to take her on a fucking date and immediately crushed the thought. “Christ, Remo, wake the fuck up. She doesn’t belong in your world.” Turning up the volume on the radio, I hit the gas and let the speed steal my attention.
fifty-seven
. . .
Ishika– 32 years old
When I woke this morning, I was still thinking about Remo’s invite for a meal. Although I was still trying to get over the surprise, a small part of me accepted that he wouldn’t come. Mafia men didn’t date, did they? There was also the aspect of him walking away after the incident with Arturo and my pending marriage I didn’t want that Remo seemed to accept, no questions asked. Which meant, anything other than fucking me was non-negotiable.
Regardless, I didn’t stop myself from a pampering bath, taking time to choose an appropriate dress or indulge in make-up I normally didn’t bother with.
I was halfway through pulling a white sundress over my head when the windows started to shake. At first, I thought it was thunder but the bright sun flooding my room squashed that notion. The noise deepened. Heavy. Mechanical. Way too close.
