I stare at him.
The don is not merely respected by the Boston Family. He is obeyed. Revered. His word is law, his judgment is final, his power is absolute. Men lower their eyes when he enters a room.They weigh every breath and every syllable in his presence. A single nod from him can end a life.
Ruffo just basically declared Don Spada unfit to lead. So cavalier, we might as well have been discussing this week’s weather. He said it without any caution. No hesitation. No concern. No flicker of fear.
If anyone else had spoken those words out loud, they’d be signing their own death warrant. But Ruffo… Is the man insane? Why is he telling me this?
Just as unexpectedly as it came on, the light in the storage room goes out. The shadows return, obscuring his features, leaving only a pair of glinting blue eyes locked on mine.
“It appears as if I have scared you once again. I apologize.” He peels away from the wall, taking his suit jacket off; his formidable frame even more menacing in the darkness.
I wrap my arms protectively around my middle as he closes the distance between us. For a long, silent moment, he simply stands there, towering over me. That wicked, wicked gaze gleaming, lighting up every nerve in my body.
“Enjoy the rest of your evening, Little Iris.”
He drops his jacket around my shoulders and, without another word, walks off. Fading into the deepening darkness of the backyard.
Chapter 10
Club Annex, Location Unknown
“I… Hello again, I guess.” I tighten the knot on my blindfold, making sure it won’t come loose. “Sorry. Um… I’ve had nightmares about this thing accidentally slipping off. Maggie has been very clear that that can’t ever happen. Now, of course, I’m always paranoid. It feels like the knot has a mind of its own and is constantly coming undone.” I take a deep breath and make myself settle my hands on my lap.
God, this is uncomfortable. It feels so odd to just start talking without making some kind of connection. No eye contact. No auditory cue. Nothing but a void.
“Uh… Did you get the coat back from Maggie?”
I wait for a moment for a response, hoping my silent guest will answer.
Nothing.
Just like last time, only silence greets me in the room.
“Please don’t take it the wrong way. It was a wonderful gesture. And the coat is absolutely beautiful. But I can’t accept it.” I sigh. “I wouldn’t be able to wear it anywhere. It’s probably super expensive, and I’d be stressed about getting it dirty on the bus. Or about someone mugging me for it. Plus, it just feels…wrong. To keep it, I mean. I don’t feel like I’ve earned it. All I did was talk. Not even about anything important. I just rambledabout…things.” My hands drift to the edge of the sofa, where my fingers curl over the cushion seam. I sink my teeth into my bottom lip, worrying over sounding like a basket case. “Please don’t be offended,” I whisper.
Not even the faintest sound in return. Is he mad? Or maybe he doesn’t even care? Damn, I wish he’d give me something! This anxiety is killing me.
I take a steadying breath and return my hands to my lap. Time to find something to talk about. To break this heavy silence.
“So…Evelyn—she’s my neighbor and best friend—is celebrating her birthday tomorrow. She’s taking a few of us girls for a night out at a club. Her boyfriend works there as a bartender on the weekends. He can get us in without a cover charge. Do you like nightclubs?”
Still nothing.
This room might as well be outer space. A near-perfect vacuum. Yet, as before, I can sensehimhere. That is so weird. Almost as weird as anyone choosing to pay to simply listen to me talk. To have me ramble on for the entire evening. Isn’t there a more exciting way for this man to spend his time?
“You’re not, are you? Not a nightclub type, huh? Me either. All that noise and people pushing each other. I’d rather have a quiet evening at home. Just hang out on the couch, watch a movie, or read. When I’m not working, that is.” I lean back, finally relaxing as I settle in for the night of one-sided chitchat.
“There’s this true crime drama on a free streaming service I use. I’ve got it saved in ‘My List’ and watch it whenever I have spare time. I love anticipating the plot and trying to guess who the killer is. It relaxes me. Strange, I know. But that kind of stuff—the violence and gore on TV—doesn’t really bother me. I’mmore likely to get freaked out by my own imagination. Once in a while, I think someone is following me. There isn’t, but my mind won’t listen. So, I start imagining being chased, then choked. And…yeah, I wouldn’t callthatrelaxing.” I shift again, once more feeling a bit anxious for stupidly letting this man know about my crazy tendencies.
“What about you? Any guilty pleasures? Hobbies? Do you play… I don’t know…golf?” I try to think of other things that rich people like to do. “Or…uh…polo? Do you ride horses?” I pause for a breath, and an answer I know won’t come. “I could never do that. I’m terribly scared of horses. I saw a movie where a guy got tied to a horse, and then the animal dragged him around. So yeah, no horse riding for me.”
I adjust the blindfold again. The silence in the room is deafening. It’s surreal. I can’t detect even a breath from my guest. But, somehow, it’s not as uncomfortable as it was before.
What should I talk about next?
“Sorry, I’m… Uh… I’m not that interesting. I mostly work, and don’t really do much else. Nothing exciting, at least. So, um…it’s hard to think of something to talk about without knowing what you’d like to hear.”
No suggestions?Sigh.I rack my brain for inspiration.
