by Bethany-Kris
Yeah, dangerous.
But …
Joe respected those kind of men, too.
He was one, after all.
“That problem—what is it?” Joe asked.
A look passed between the two men, and Joe felt the strangest urge to ask them to knock that shit off. The short amount of time he had spent in the Marcello brothers’ presence was enough to tell him this silent conversation thing was a regular occurrence.
And he didn’t like it at all.
Lucian resumed his spot beside the window, while Dante moved behind the desk, and took a seat. Joe stayed in the middle of the room right where he was, and didn’t move.
“Well?” he asked.
“One of our men was found dead in his apartment today,” Dante said.
Shit.
Joe rocked back on his heels, and stuffed his hands in his pockets. “Sorry to hear that.”
He didn’t know the guy—Dante hadn’t even given a name—but it didn’t matter. Death was death, and death still deserved respect. Or so Joe had been taught growing up. A good man apologized and showed the proper respect for someone passing, as long as that person was deserving of it.
Dante nodded, and glanced over at his brother. “Beaten to death, it seems. We only found out when he didn’t check in with Lucian as he should.”
“Why would he be checking in with Lucian?” Joe asked.
“He’s my oldest daughter’s enforcer,” Lucian said quietly.
Joe stiffened a bit. “Liliana.”
“Yes.” Dante scrubbed a hand down his jaw, and leaned back in his chair. “So here is where our problem becomes apparent—we believe this might be connected to the little issue we hired you to take care of.”
And there it was.
Joe took the opening. “And why do you believe that?”
He shouldn’t have thought the two men would be so naive as to fall for his little trick. They didn’t even think about stepping into the trap, really.
“That’s not your concern,” Dante said quickly, “but it puts us in a bad position. We now have a woman without an enforcer, and since it may be connected to the rest, we have to consider other things.”
“So, get her a new enforcer,” Joe said, cocking a brow.
One part of him thought, Why the fuck is this my problem?
The other part thought, Have somebody on that fucking woman right now.
He didn’t know what to think of himself right then.
Lucian passed Joe a look that felt dead as the man said, “It’s not that easy. Liliana is a grown woman, and well into her own life. While she isn’t a silly girl running around New York unprotected, I have done my very best to let her live as normally as possible. It is the very least she deserves, considering everything. And that includes her guards. She never sees them—should she see them, she doesn’t recognize them. I don’t want to concern my daughter when she has a stressful few months coming up with her ballet company, and everything else on her shoulders.”
“And what does that mean, exactly?” Joe asked, looking to Dante for an answer.
“It means,” Dante said, “that we were hoping you might take on the task of guarding Liliana from … a respectable distance for the foreseeable future. At least, until we figure out how to handle what just happened, and whether or not it is related to other things. Should she see you, it won’t concern her all that much. She seemed to get on quite well with you, and that’s a good thing. Of course, we won’t want you mentioning to her that you are guarding her.”
To say the least.
Joe kept quiet.
Dante continued with, “She recognizes all of our other enforcers, and she doesn’t need to be getting anxious or worked up.”
“Why would—”
“Will you guard her, or not?” Lucian interrupted sharply.
Jesus Christ.
It wasn’t even a question for Joe.
He barely had to think about it at all.
“I will,” he said.
The relief between the two other men in the room was palpable, but Joe still didn’t understand why. There was a hell of a lot going unsaid in this arrangement, and he didn’t like that very goddamn much.
It didn’t seem like there was much he could do about it, either.
“And what about my marks?” Joe asked. “How long do you want me to fuck around before I move in on them?”
“Plans have to change sometimes,” Dante said.
“Clearly.”
The Marcello boss gave Joe a look that quieted him instantly. His smart mouth was probably going to get him killed one day, but frankly, there was nothing he could do about it. This was why he liked to stay quiet—it was everyone else who made him talk.
“We will have you take care of the marks when we are ready, and things are in place for it to happen properly,” Lucian said, “but for now, your mark is my daughter, and you need to keep her alive.”
Alrighty, then.
FOUR
THE DRIVER OPENED the back door of the SUV with a smile, and offered a hand to help Liliana down from the high vehicle. Still a little wary about why she was even there to begin with, she took his hand and let him help her down.
Besides, she had lived as a Marcello long enough to know that when someone was sent for her, it would be entirely useless for her to refuse. They were typically told to give no information, and answer no questions. Rather, they were directed to drop whoever off wherever they had been told, and nothing more.
It wasn’t often it happened.
Today, the man picked Liliana up after her training was finished at the studio. He had been waiting outside—a recognizable face as he was an enforcer who often followed her father around—and leaning against his car with a smile.
And with orders to take her to the Marcello mansion.
“Are you going to be taking me home after?” Liliana asked him.
The man nodded. “I’ll be waiting when you’re ready.”
“Great, thanks.”
Frankly, she was ready to go now, and she hadn’t even gotten inside the house yet. A full twelve hours of training was more than just physically taxing, it was emotionally exhausting. Her feet ached—they needed to be cared for, and soon. Her muscles needed a good soak, so they wouldn’t be terribly sore in the morning.
Given she had been brought here first, and not home to her apartment in upper Brooklyn, it was unlikely that she would get enough time to take care of her body, and sleep long enough not to be tired tomorrow.
Win some, lose some.
That’s how the saying went, right?
Liliana supposed the quicker she got inside the Marcello mansion, and figured out what was going on, then the quicker she could get back home and relax. She had to practically drag her tired legs—and stiff back—up the marble entrance to the mansion.
The man posted at the door gave her a nod before opening it, and stepping back. “You will find your father in the upstairs office, Liliana.”
“Thanks.”
So, it was Daddy who called me in.
It was only lately that her grandparents had begun posting enforcers at their doorstep, and usually only at night when the sun went down, or if they were having a big party and needed extra precautions. They didn’t typically have the guards so close, but they also didn’t like it being pointed out, for whatever reason. Age, she supposed. No one liked to feel like someone else thought they were incapable, or something like that.
Liliana was half way to the office—just coming up to the top of the staircase into the upper wing of the mansion—when a familiar face greeted her.
At the sight of her, he instantly grinned. A sexy, yet still sweet grin that accompanied the way his gaze drifted over the comfortable flats on her feet, tight leggings, and the long-sleeved body suit she hadn’t gotten the chance to change out of. Usually, she would do that once she got home.
He didn’t hide his staring at all.
And her heart skippe
d.
Joe.
“Back again so soon?” she asked him.
Joe laughed, and gave a half-hearted shrug. “Seems I am going to be around for a while.”
Was she supposed to complain about that, or something? Because she couldn’t find a single reason to do that.
Not at all.
“Good,” Liliana said.
“Is it?” Joe asked back.
“Is it, what?”
“Good, Tesoro.”
Treasure.
Liliana felt a familiar heat climb up her throat, and threaten to color her cheeks with a pretty red. She used to be a shy girl who blushed at every little thing. Somehow, she had grown out of the trait over the years, and she was grateful for doing so.
Yet, here she was with this man about to turn into a teenager again who flushed and tittered at every little compliment he gave her. Add in the way her stomach did the strangest clenching and flipping whenever he stared at her, and yeah …
She was screwed.
“I think it’s good,” she said.
“And why is that?”
Liliana tried to play her interest off because that seemed easier than stumbling over her words to admit she was curious, and interested in him. “Guess we’ll find out, huh?”
Joe laughed again.
That sound—the look of him when he tossed his head back and let loose—was intoxicating. Liliana had seen firsthand how this man was able to flip his switches back and forth when it came to other people. She watched him shut off, and shut down like it was nothing. Warm to her, and then cold to someone else in a blink.
So, when she was able to get a glimpse of him like this?
Free, defenseless, and happy?
She liked it a lot.
Sobering from his laughter, Joe crossed his arms over his broad chest, and gave her another once over with his gaze. The action caused his white T-shirt to strain against his muscles in the best way, while the veins in his forearms and strong hands stood out even more.
Liliana had her thing.
All women had their things when it came to men, and what they found attractive. Apparently, she had more than just one thing because she suddenly had the strangest fucking urge to feel those hands of his grabbing ahold of her tightly while she traced the veins in his hands and arms with her fingertips.
Preferably naked.
Wow.
She went there fast.
“Dancing today?” he asked.
“Training,” she clarified, hoping how turned on she was didn’t come through in her voice. “But basically, yeah. I dance six times a week, and sometimes seven. Really just depends on what’s coming up, and what’s happening.”
“What would you have done, if not ballet?”
Liliana blinked at the unexpected question. People never asked her that—she knew why, too. Everyone just always assumed when they heard that she was a professional ballerina that dance was all she had ever considered as a path in her life. It was probably all she had ever known, and she didn’t fault them for that way of thinking.
She kind of adored Joe for asking something different. He was different, so it shouldn’t have been that much of a surprise to her.
It still was.
“A nurse,” Liliana said, “and it still might be an option once this career gives out.”
A brief frown flickered across Joe’s face before he schooled his features. “Why would you think this career would give out, sweetheart?”
“Even the best ballerinas can’t dance forever.”
“Teaching. Mentoring. Owning their own studio. There’s lots of options.”
Liliana nodded. “There are, but I spent the first three years after high school trying to get in with the company I am currently at, and going to school all at the same time. A demand of my father—if I couldn’t be a ballerina, then I had to have something else to fall back on. I never got to finish school, so …”
“Because you got the spot in the company,” Joe assumed, and rightly.
“Exactly. I learned something about nursing, though.”
“Which is what?”
“After all the world gave me, it’s nice to give a little back.”
“So, a nurse, then?” he asked.
“Someday,” Liliana said.
It was another dream of hers. It wouldn’t mean her name would be in lights, or that a whole theater full of people would be enamored with the way she floated from one side of the stage to another, but it did mean fulfillment. A kind of fulfillment she had not yet been able to find as a ballerina.
“Sometimes, that’s how life works,” Liliana said vaguely.
“I get that.”
Joe didn’t press her for more details about her strange statement. She thought right then and there to ask the man to dinner, or even for a coffee, but it was the sound of footsteps echoing from down the hall that stopped her from asking anything at all.
Her father, and uncle, it seemed.
In a blink, Joe’s entire demeanor changed. He reverted back to that stone-still statue with little expression, and no clear emotion as he regarded the oncoming men. He still looked like the same man, and his woodsy scent was still lingering with every breath Liliana took in, but it was clear he put on a different mask depending on who was around.
She didn’t take that as a sign he disliked the men of her family, either, but rather … that Joe was probably more like them than she knew.
Liliana had come to learn that all made men acted in similar ways when other made men were around to see it. She didn’t know if that was because they wanted to keep business separate from their personal life, or because the mafia demanded those kinds of things.
None of it mattered, anyway.
Liliana saw Joe.
She had seen him.
That was enough for her.
“You’re heading out, Joe?” Dante called.
Joe nodded, and then passed Liliana a quick look, too. “Until the next time, Liliana.”
“There will definitely be one.”
She would make sure of it.
Liliana turned to greet her father, but still took the chance to glance over her shoulder at the same time. She caught sight of Joe’s broad back as he took the stairs two at a time with his hands stuffed loosely in his pockets like he didn’t have a care in the world.
And then, he was gone.
“I wondered when you were going to get here,” Lucian said.
Liliana turned back to her father. Her uncle gave her a small smile before he too headed down the stairs to the main floor of the mansion’s largest wing.
“Is something wrong?” she asked.
Lucian’s warm smile belied the fact that there might be something for her to be concerned about. “Not at all, mia ragazza. Why would you think that?”
Uh …
“Because you had a driver pick me up from the studio, and bring me here without as much as a phone call. You only do that when something’s up.”
Lucian shook his head, and shrugged. “No, I just haven’t seen you all week, and your mother was getting worried. I told her I would make sure you were fine.”
Liliana laughed. “By dragging me two hours away to the mansion?”
“Yes, well …”
He sounded both amused and nonchalant at the same time. She could only laugh again.
“Well, I am fine,” Liliana said, “as you can see. Pass the message along to Ma, and tell her I will be at church on Sunday for her to see for herself.”
“You better be,” her father joked.
“So, seriously, nothing’s wrong?”
Lucian reached out, and grabbed his daughter. He pulled Liliana in for a quick, tight hug that almost took her breath away. Still, she relaxed in his embrace, and a familiar comfort seeped into her bones.
“Everything is perfect,” he said, dropping a quick kiss to the top of her head, “and everything is going to stay that way—I promise.”
“Wow, I can’t
believe you actually got out of the studio this week to spend more than five seconds with little old me,” Cella teased.
Liliana shot her sister a look. “Are you back on that again?”
Cella rolled her eyes upward, and smiled in that joking way of hers. It made her look like their mother when Jordyn was trying to play tricks on them—albeit, their mother had never been very good at following through because she would just start laughing her ass off.
“I just miss you, Liliana,” Cella said.
“I know.”
“But you did get time away to spend just with me, so yay!”
Her sister did a little happy dance on the sidewalk, and gained the attention of several passersby. Some of the people gave them a strange look—how often did you see a girl dancing on Fifth Avenue like a crazy little wild child, anyway?
“Stop that,” Liliana muttered, trying hard not to laugh. She grabbed her sister’s arm, and tugged Cella back into her side to get her attention focused on what they were currently doing. “You’re drawing attention.”
Cella preened. “I know, that’s the whole point.”
“Well, let’s not.”
“You’re a ballerina, Liliana. Your whole job is to be beautiful and graceful on stage, all the while keeping an entire audience’s eyes on you. So …”
“Yes, but we’re not on a stage right now,” Liliana countered, “we’re on a sidewalk in the middle of Fifth freaking Avenue.”
Her sister only laughed, but she didn’t try to do another crazy dance routine to give the gawkers a show. Soon, the two sisters were on their walk again, and nearly at the salon where they both had appointments for the day.
Cella, for manicures.
Liliana, for a foot treatment.
God knew her feet could use it.
“We should bring Lucia the next time,” Liliana said. “I bet she’s feeling left out at home.”
Their far younger sister sometimes liked to tag along for their girls’ day out, but she never actually spoke up and asked to go. That didn’t stop Liliana from feeling like shit whenever they left their younger sister behind.
