My eyes search his. “Why?”
His stare eases. “Because I follow my mine and it says to take your lead.”
Night air presses into my skin, heating under his gaze. Words of affirmation activate my heaux switch. I’m ready to pop, lock, and drop it on his premium dingaling hanging to the right in his pants.
An SUV pulls up next to our car and cuts the lights. The thing is a tank that looks like it can withstand four grenades, a thousand bullets, and a nuke. Andrea hops out with his deep waves and a fresh fade.
“Hey, cousin.” He’s been calling me the nickname since Benny put us on a call to map out my fake identity.
“Figured you’d want to complete your look. I brought you a few accessories.” He thumbs toward his truck.
I yelp at powerful arms pulling me into a firm chest. Benny’s voice is low. “Who’s the killer now? Come to me for your needs next time.”
Our lips are inches apart when I tilt my head. “You were in a meeting.”
He kisses the top of my braids. “I’m never too busy for you. Go on.” He bumps me with his hip. “Get your guns.”
Andrea hands me two Berettas and stuffs one into his waist. “They’re loaded and ready to go.”
“Do people get shot at these meetings?”
“Happens once or twice.” He closes the trunk and winks.
Knots the size of boulders form in my stomach. He better be joking.
“Ready, Binks?” Benny guides me into the shoulder holster Andrea provides. His brows slash as he adjusts the straps. “I won’t let anything happen to you.”
“You’ve said that before.”
“I mean it.” He eyes me.
With a final look, I follow him into the creepy-ass warehouse with Andrea trailing us. Men with assault rifles flank the entrance with a receptionist.
“Bona sira,“ I say to the elderly woman, who smiles and presses a button to open the door.
“Still creepy?” Benny smirks at my eyes darting from the gold fixtures to polished concrete and modern wall paneling.
The conference room is the length of the floor. Andrea moves me behind him to take Benny’s right side. At least thirty men sit at a large marble table in the center of the room. Recessed lights shine from a mirrored ceiling to cast the edges of the room in shadows.
Benny’s commanding voice silences any discussions. His tone projects without him yelling, and I’d be lying if I said he didn’t look good as hell. He roams through the shadows cutting across his black hair and the sharp cut of his suit jacket as he speaks in Sicilian.
Thick fingers that have brought me pleasure grip the head chair he stands behind. Every eye in the room is on him.
He’s looking at me.
“We have a guest with us.” He switches to Italian. “Treat her with the same respect I demand.”
Heads swivel in my direction. My heart hammers in my chest. I want to run back to the citrus grove, where it’s safe, with snacks.
Also.
“This is a Black group?” I whisper to Andrea. Nothing but melanin is here.
“Go on.” He winks before taking the remaining seat at the other end of the table.
Benny pulls out his chair for me to sit in. “This is Binks Caselli,” he says with a straight face, his fingers rolling overmy shoulders. The touch is subtle but eases my need to vomit. “She is a don, my fiancée, and an extension of me. Answer her questions and show her respect. If you touch her, I’ll touch you. Questions?”
Silence.
