Playing with Fire

by Graziano, Renee

  Nick said coolly, “His family will run over you like a bulldozer.”

  “That’s my problem, and besides, his family will blame hers. Don’t stand up, Fattelli. You’d lose.”

  Like hell he would. Reign wasn’t dead either. He would feel it if she was, or so he assured himself. Maybe it was a superstitious Sicilian belief, but he felt their souls were somehow connected and she was not dead.

  But Carre would be.

  When he’d walked in he’d known he would be outgunned. Only one of him, and Carre was intelligent enough to know if he showed up there might be a confrontation. Nick had to wonder how many guns but really didn’t care. He hadn’t been so focused since he’d heard about Catherine, and maybe he was a little like his father. If someone deserved to die, they should.

  So he stood and said calmly, “Let’s go.”

  “Your meaning?”

  “Go ahead. Pull on me. I know you have your hand on a gun. Try it.”

  The asshole had absolutely no idea how resolute he was.

  Or how good he was.

  Carre said on a rasp, “You won’t walk out of here.”

  “Neither will you. And as you just said, that’s my problem.”

  It wasn’t like he was unprepared.

  Carre made the mistake of moving.

  Nick had two guns on him, one in the shoulder holster but also one tucked behind his jacket in his pants, easier to reach in a swift, decisive moment. Nick was faster—caught him in the chest with the first shot—and the other man’s shot went high, maybe brushing Nick’s arm, he couldn’t be sure, but he fired again and then Carre was down, sliding out of his chair.…

  The man had a surprised expression, and it was a very satisfying moment when he went sprawling on the expensive rug, bleeding everywhere.

  One down.

  Nick fell to the floor as the door burst open, and then he rolled, taking out the first man who came charging in—never a good idea to be first in. The second one was more cautious, just a glimpse of his shadow in the doorway, and Nick called out, “Carre’s dead. No paycheck. Back off. Give me a show of empty hands and I won’t kill you.”

  It had happened so fast he wasn’t even breathing hard.

  Silence. Nick slid back toward the wall, his gun extended.

  After a minute, he saw someone set down a gun in the doorway. A voice said, “Look, let me and Joyce just get out of here, okay? You get to deal with the cops. My weapon has my fingerprints on it but it hasn’t been fired, so you own those two dead bodies. I bet you’ll hear sirens in about two seconds. There are other offices in this building.”

  Yes, he was bleeding, which meant he was at least nicked a little in the arm. Nick could feel the blood starting to soak his sleeve but adrenaline was an anesthetic. “Deal.”

  “Never liked working for Carre all that much anyway.” The man muttered the words and a moment later the door to the reception area closed.

  Fine. Good. How to leave the building without a lot of questions was an interesting dilemma, especially since he was bleeding, but he’d never been slow about thinking on his feet. Nick got up, not trusting anything or anyone, but the office outside was deserted. The secretary had even left her cup of coffee still steaming on her desk.

  He could only think of one thing.

  God, he was worried about Reign.… It couldn’t be true.… It wasn’t.

  Being alone was a familiar friend. He was used to being alone. As he walked swiftly down the hallway to the stairs, rather than taking the elevator, he reflected that alone was more comfortable, because at the moment, he was frantic.

  He called the burner phone he’d given her. Carre was playing him, maybe.…

  “Hello.”

  Her voice. He was so relieved he slipped on the stairs and almost went down. It could be that he was bleeding more than he’d thought at first. There was a certain weakness that might be relief but also might be blood loss. “You’re okay?”

  “Uhm, kind of. Sal and I might be arrested. It seems fifty-fifty at this point. Our family names and this intruder thing happening so often isn’t winning our argument. They’d love to arrest someone and the others involved seem to be dead.”

  But she was alive.

  Blood dripped from his sleeve in a crimson stream. “I might be arrested too. But Carre feels a lot worse. Actually, let me rephrase, he doesn’t feel anything.”

  “Nick!”

  He used the handrail, but his palm skidded along it. “Let’s find out how good I am. Say, is it possible Sal could call his doctor friend? I might need a little assistance.”

  “You?”

  He heard the clang of the door at the bottom of the stairs and staccato voices issuing orders. Apparently the officers were covering all the bases. “I’ve got to get the hell out of here. Have I mentioned yet I’m in love with you?”

  “I’m coming to get you.”

  “No, you aren’t.” There was no doubt there was a trail of blood. Shit. He didn’t want Reign arrested too. He told her as he gained the alley through the back exit, “I’m going to call John. Meet me at the church instead?”

  “I’m on my way.”

  The police were in the stairwell now. He could hear their voices.

  Move it.

  Luckily he had left the Bentley around the corner in a parking garage that serviced blocks of offices and stores, and happened to be fairly deserted at this time. He had no illusions, the police could track him, but if he hurried, he might just walk away from this one.

  There were times in his life he hadn’t cared much if he lived or died, but since meeting Reign, he was gaining a different perspective.

  He fumbled in his pocket and pushed a button and the car came to life. Then he made a second call. “I might need a favor.”

  “Of course.” His brother’s voice held alarm. “Nick?”

  “I won’t stay long, but is there a back door where you can meet me and a place where I can wait for my ride? I might need to leave my car at the church for a day or two.”

  Just in case anyone remembered the Bentley he was currently bleeding all over. It was a pretty distinctive car.

  “What’s wrong?”

  “It’s nothing major, and I promise you, dad would have approved of this one.”

  John understood. They were brothers, but also part of a brotherhood they’d known their entire life. “I’ll pray for their souls. In the meantime, be careful. I’ll be waiting.”

  * * *

  Warm night, bright stars, and asphalt.

  At the end of the day, Reign was left with sitting on the curb outside, as Sal’s new doctor girlfriend—or so it seemed—patched Nick up inside the apartment.

  At least, if there was a good result to all of this, there was someone to help.

  Sal, perched next to her, said with very Italian logic, “That was a good call on his part to ask for Jennifer. Do you and I know how to stitch up another human being? He would have had to go to the hospital, and it didn’t seem like something he wanted to do.”

  Of course not. Then he’d have to explain how he got shot in the first place, and he left the scene deliberately to avoid the police. If Reign had to call it, she’d bet that there was already a request at all the area hospitals to watch for a gunshot victim. Nick had admitted he’d left a trail of blood.

  Reign glanced over. Jennifer, was it? First names? She actually was pleased. It said something already that Dr. Altea would come to help if Sal called. Not to mention he obviously had her private number.

  Sal looked wiped out again. Who could blame him? She had to ask, “Will she report? I have no idea yet what Nick left behind, but I doubt it was pretty.”

  “She knows nothing about that and has made it clear she doesn’t want to know. I don’t think you and I know much about it either. He was shot. That’s what I said on the phone and she sure could tell once he got here.”

  “Joey is dead.”

  “Oh hell, yes. All over the news.” Sal looked
a little pale in the streetlight from the parking lot, but not repentant. “I can’t believe no one managed to take out Carre before this, but if Fattelli took care of it, maybe he and I could be friends after all.”

  “This possessive male crap annoys me.”

  “Get used to it. I think probably Fattelli is pretty good at it. That’s my cue to go. Here he comes. Try to be nice. He just took a bullet. I can say with some authority it isn’t the most pleasant experience. At least his only went through the upper part of his arm.”

  “You ask me to be nice?”

  Sal kissed her. It was brief, just a touch of their lips. “We make a great team, but you aren’t still a member.” He let go of her hand. “Our last play together was pretty good, though, huh?”

  He stood and left. The parking lot smelled faintly of urine, and insects circled the lights, and she really wished she’d bothered to bring down her wine, but maybe the police tape was part of the problem. The neighbors had called in the sound of gunfire.

  Sal was replaced by Nick, who sank down on the sidewalk next her and touched her cheek. “Hey.”

  Reign looked over. “You look like shit.”

  She didn’t really mean it. He looked fabulous because he was still alive, but his shirt was covered in dried blood and his hair was disheveled and she doubted she looked any better.

  “Fuck, the doctor gave me a shot.” He rubbed his shoulder but then winced. “I can take the stitching part.… I did it without anesthetic. Could she have told me the shot was not optional?”

  Reign laughed. “You know we live to torture you, right?”

  He took her hand and entwined their fingers. “I do. Women were born to torture men, I get it. Tell me what happened?”

  “You did warn they might be coming. But through the skylight? Luckily, Sal wasn’t all that surprised. Going upstairs was a very good idea, and we both seem to be good shots. It wasn’t luck, really.”

  “Carre said he got a text you both were dead.”

  Oh, he had. She’d personally taken the cell phone from one of the men, scrolled through his number directory, and sent it herself. Reign smiled grimly. “That was from me.”

  “I assume the police took the guns. They’ll be able to tell from ballistics.”

  The interrogation hadn’t been all that fun. “The only reason we aren’t at the police station is that in a roundabout way they said both of those men were under surveillance for some reason that was not shared with us, and the detectives saw them breaking in. Too little, too late, to really help us, but whatever it was those bastards were supposed to have done, it seems glaringly obvious it might involve contract hits. Otherwise there’s no way the cops would have left here without carting us along.”

  This particular evening, it had been a good thing the police officers were there, even if it was after the fact. Since the incident at her home had involved a similar problem, they’d believed her too.

  She tightened her fingers around Nick’s. “So it’s over?”

  He gazed at her with those beautiful blue eyes. “I think so.” There was a pause. Then he said, “You did hear me on the phone, right?”

  She had. It had been a mistake to go talk to John. Now she understood Nick better, and it made her … vulnerable. Worse, she was afraid it made them both vulnerable.

  “You do realize that you are complicating what seemed to be a mutually satisfying sexual relationship.”

  “My fault, is it?” He touched her cheek. “You love your son. You love your sister. You love your father, I saw it. You even love Sal, but you aren’t right for each other. Isn’t there room for one more?”

  He had a very good point.

  EPILOGUE

  Italy, eight months later

  “That was one hell of a nice wedding.” Nick adjusted his sunglasses. “I’m going to say the Ariano family knows exactly how to do it right.”

  It had been a pretty dazzling event.

  Next to him on the beach, Reign tilted her head back, the warmth of the sun welcome. “I know I was only invited because they were delighted that Sal was marrying someone other than a Grazi, but I’m okay with that. I actually think our families might have a truce going on.”

  “True. He married a respectable doctor instead of—”

  Reign rolled over on her towel and smacked his bare chest. “Watch it, Fattelli.”

  He pretended it actually hurt. “Hey. I was going to say the sexiest fashion designer in the world. Her wedding dress was really pretty. Sal was certainly impressed by it from his expression.”

  That was true. Jennifer had been a very beautiful bride, and Reign had a poignant happiness that Sal had moved on. He was over her and in love with someone else, but then again, she really wished him the best.

  And now she and Nick were having a much-needed vacation. The design line was a dream, but a lot of work. Not to mention her empty house, now that Vince was busy with classes and his new friends.

  Italy had been a great idea.

  The water was a perfect aquamarine and the breeze warm.…

  “By the way, I love the bathing suit.” Nick ran a finger along the edge of her top. “You look hot.”

  She smiled. He didn’t look so bad himself, tanned and muscular. “Good save.” She said it dryly, and then added, “I checked the weather on my phone. It’s raining in New York.”

  He reached over and pulled her on top of him in one smooth movement so they were face-to-face. “This is nice, I agree, but even if we were there, I’d just suggest we spend all afternoon in bed. Kiss me, Ms. Reign Supreme.”

  She did, long and slow and heated. Mingled breath, brushing tongues; definitely a scorching lover’s kiss. “I think we’d better cool it down,” she said when she lifted her head and saw a couple walking by smile as they watched them, the man saying something to make the woman laugh. “It seems to me you might have an embarrassing walk back up to the hotel. Swim trunks don’t do much to hide your current state of enthusiasm for my company.”

  “I have a lot of enthusiasm for your company,” he responded, and audaciously squeezed her ass.

  “The feeling is mutual.” She smoothed back his hair. “You know me, I like playing with fire.”

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  RENEE GRAZIANO, the star of Mob Wives, is perhaps the show’s most compelling character. She is divorced from Hector Pagan, Jr., who was exposed as an FBI informant, and with whom she has a son, A.J.

  Renee Graziano has been the subject of feature articles in People, US Weekly, in Touch, VIBE, and OK!, and has appeared on The View, Good Morning America, Extra, and many more television programs.

  This is a work of fiction. All of the characters, organizations, and events portrayed in this novel are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.

  PLAYING WITH FIRE

  Copyright © 2014 by JustJenn Productions

  All rights reserved.

  Cover photograph by Trevillion Images

  A Forge Book

  Published by Tom Doherty Associates, LLC

  175 Fifth Avenue

  New York, NY 10010

  www.tor-forge.com

  Forge® is a registered trademark of Tom Doherty Associates, LLC.

  The Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data is available upon request.

  ISBN 978-0-7653-7619-0 (hardcover)

  ISBN 978-1-4668-4991-4 (e-book)

  e-ISBN 9781466849914

  First Edition: April 2014