“Why wait?” Furio interrupted impatiently.
After a brief pause, Stefano relented. “You’re right. There’s no reason not to act now. Who do we have that’s dispensable?” Because if Gabriel was still on his A-game, whoever they sent to the West Coast wouldn’t be returning home.
“Skars just got out.”
They reached the street, and Furio exited the building first, crossing the sidewalk to open the door to the Navigator. Once Stefano had climbed into the back, his underboss shut the door and joined Vincente, who was at the wheel in the front.
Stefano resumed their conversation. “Have Skars follow her to Seattle. Tell him to give her a message to stay away from Gabriel. And make sure he understands that he isn’t to touch her. That’ll come later.”
As the lights from the airport terminal faded and the cab headed in the direction of her Mercer Island address, Eva’s stomach rolled with nerves. She hadn’t been home since her mother’s funeral almost two months ago. How was she going to rattle around the empty rooms where they’d spent so many happy years? Being reminded every day that the only family she’d ever had was gone.
Maybe she wouldn’t have to. If, per chance, she got the job she’d interviewed for last week . . .
She bit her lip. She’d what? Sell the house she’d grown up in and walk away as if none of it mattered? It was bad enough she’d sold the quaint fashion boutique her mother had owned on Thirty-Fifth Street, which she’d only done when her mother’s lawyer had called to tell her someone had shown an interest. But their house?
She rubbed at her brow with the tips of her fingers. If she got that job, the choice would be taken from her. Mr. Talbot, the headhunter who’d interviewed members of her graduating class, had pushed her into “seriously considering” his lead on the “wonderful learning experience” at TarMor, a “most sought-after placement” in one of the “fastest-growing building contractors in the US.” When Eva had balked at the title of associate business manager, seeing herself doing nothing more than grunt work for some fat cat with a secure place on the board, Mr. Talbot had encouraged her to see it more as a stepping-stone, making her think hard when he’d asked her in what other position could she get such an overview of the workings of such a large company. There was also room for quick growth. If she proved in her ABM position, the company had guaranteed a promotion to manager after her first year of employment, which was more in line with her credentials. And to have the chance to actually shadow a CEO . . .
It was a huge selling point that wasn’t part of any other job she or her classmates had heard of.
She couldn’t afford not to consider the opportunity, despite her fear of being under-titled for her prestigious graduate degree.
Desperate for some experience—the internship she’d done at a world-renowned wealth management and investment banking firm too short to impress anyone but her mother—she’d caved and scheduled an interview. She had been surprised when she’d been asked to come in the following day, dealing directly with Natalie, the chief human resources officer. Much to her surprise, Eva had truly liked what she’d heard about the company and the position. She could learn from the CEO. His spec sheet painted him as brilliant, which she’d already assumed to be the case considering what he and his silent partner had done with the company in so short a time.
If she was chosen out of the many potential candidates. She only hoped she could get past her embarrassing aversion to his heritage. Alekzander Tarasov. How Russian could you get? Ick.
Ashamed of the prejudice, Eva leaned her head on the window and stared sightlessly out into the dark night as the cab crossed the Lacey V. Murrow Memorial Bridge from Seattle onto Mercer Island. At the interview, Natalie had made sure she was aware Alekzander Tarasov would be relocating to New York within the month. If Eva got the job, she’d need to move as well. Fine by her—at least it had been at the time. She may have been hesitant to leave Seattle for college four years ago, but after her mother’s death, there was something appealing about staying on the East Coast. Leaving the painful memories behind. Starting fresh.
She’d left the interview invigorated. With her personal life in such turmoil, she hadn’t exactly thrown herself into a job search. And while this job wasn’t really her dream position, it paid well and wouldn’t require additional resume sending to find employment.
Remembering her interview at the TarMor building in Manhattan, and as it had every time she’d gone over it this past week, an image of one very beautiful man popped into her head. She’d caught a glimpse of him in the lobby after her interview. She’d wondered at the time if he’d been incentive. Had the company planted the eye candy, knowing four of the candidates competing for the job were women? Boy, if they had, they’d gotten Eva’s number, because he’d been everything she found attractive in a man. Beyond tall, dark, and handsome.
She grimaced. And what would you do with him? Discuss your Daddy issues?
I’m working on it, she argued in her silent defense, and then couldn’t help but wonder what it would mean to return to New York after what had happened that morning.
Stefano Moretti, a known crime boss, had known her by name. And had seemed sure that they’d meet again.
“Is this it?”
Eva’s head came up at the cabdriver’s short question, and she looked out the window at her dark, empty residence, heart lodging in her throat.
She nodded and reached for the handle, getting out of the cab as the mocha-skinned woman popped the trunk before doing the same. She dug in her oversize duffel for the fare and handed it over with a thanks once her suitcase and carry-on were deposited at the foot of the drive. She watched the middle-aged driver climb back in the car and disappear up the street.
Taking a deep breath, ultraconscious of the silence of the night—no traffic, sirens, drunken conversations—Eva hefted her case and used the glow from the streetlight to make her way up the front walk. She shoved her key into the lock and swung the door wide, pausing to turn off the beeping alarm before hitting the switch to illuminate the entrance. She squinted in the sudden brightness as she dropped her stuff at the foot of the stairs . . . and instantly felt tears burn behind her lids as the familiar, if a little musty, smell of home hit her.
So Nika hadn’t made it over to air the place out.
She walked back to the door and stuck her nose into the fresh air, breathing hard through the grief and loneliness trying to smother her. Her blurry gaze skimmed over the front yard, and she stilled. There it was again. That sense of being watched. She’d felt it in New York, so often lately, and even on the flight back to Seattle. It brought an odd sense of peace, which made no sense considering what had happened that morning. Could Stefano Moretti or his guard dog be the eyes she’d been feeling on her lately? Stupid imagination. Why would a supposed crime boss be following a college student? Didn’t make sense. None of it made sense.
Snapping her fingers, she grabbed her bag and dug out her phone. She turned it back on, having forgotten to do so after the flight, and checked for a text in case Caleb had learned something while she’d been unreachable. Nothing. She started tapping on her screen.
Hey. Thinking about what happened earlier. R u ok?
She waited only seconds before the bubble came up signifying a response was coming.
Yup. Staying at the clubhouse now that I don’t have to babysit your ass. Still working on the SM thing. You good?
Jerk, she thought, chuckling.
I’m good. Ttyl?
Ltr Priss
The tension in her back relaxed slightly. He’d have told her if she should be worried about Stefano Moretti. And the goon was on the other side of the country anyway.
What if that watchful feeling wasn’t Stefano, but her mother’s spirit? She’d never believed in that stuff before.
“But I will now if it means you’re here, Mom.” She whispered the words into the cool air, feeling relief as a breeze whispered ag
ainst her face.
Night shadows stretched over what would be a brilliant green lawn come morning, hiding the sword ferns and other foliage surrounding the yard. A dog barked in the distance, the sound more a let-me-in-I’m-done-peeing than someone’s-in-the-yard.
She breathed in the fresh, fragrant air. Suddenly, being home felt right.
Gabriel watched Eva look out across the front yard of her property, lips curved in a private smile. Gorgeous.
Who had she been texting? Paynne? Her friend Nika? Which one had made her laugh? Hopefully Nika, he thought with a scowl.
“She kept her earbuds in and ignored the guy the entire flight.”
His scowl deepened, and he looked sidelong at the right brain of his security team, Quan Mao. He’d hired the skilled Asian American when Quan had first landed in Seattle a little more than four years ago. He’d come from an Asian unit in New York that had turned sour and had proven himself more loyal and trustworthy than even some of the boys Gabriel had known for twenty years back home.
Quan had joined him at SeaTac. He’d been with Eva from the minute she’d gotten out of the cab at JFK, joined her on the plane—without her knowledge, of course—and had just finished telling Gabriel about some frat boy who’d sat next to her and tried to strike up a conversation a few times. He would swear the information was only being shared to poke the bear. But then, the boys weren’t aware of his . . . feelings? . . . for Vasily’s daughter, so maybe not.
“He wasn’t a threat?”
“No.”
“Then why am I hearing about it?” he snapped, his possessiveness toward Eva preventing him from tempering his tone.
Her gaze was focused on the large weeping willow a few hundred yards from her driveway. His Escalade was parked in its shadows. He tensed, even though there was no way she could see them under the cover of the dripping branches and lightless night.
“Just keeping you informed.”
There was an odd note in Quan’s dry statement that Gabriel didn’t want to examine. His boys were too observant for their own good. Man, her waist was tiny. Legs long. That hair. He wanted to wrap the silky onyx mass around his wrist and pull, tipping her head back, until he had easy access to those lips he craved.
Mine.
He silently cursed the claim that whispered through his mind and forced his gaze away to scan the area, even though Quan would be on it.
He gripped the steering wheel as Eva finally turned and disappeared into the house. “Nick gave the all clear?” Nick Delvecio, Eva’s neighbor, had been planted in the house on the right by Vasily himself. The retired enforcer had been with the Moretti family for more than twenty years before being relocated here.
Quan nodded. “His text said he’d slipped out the back door as she was paying for the cab.”
Gabriel nodded and settled in. He’d stay for just a little while, even though there were already eyes on the house.
He had to move forward with the job thing. Get her installed in his office as soon as he could. Because with Stefano now onto her, Eva needed to be as close to Gabriel as he could get her. To protect her as only he knew how.
A rush of heat rippled over his skin as his mind fast-forwarded to tomorrow evening.
It was time he and his charge were introduced.
CHAPTER 4
“Take a breath. Smile. Say thank you. Move on.”
Eva whispered her instructions to herself under her breath as she rushed through a set of self-propelled revolving doors into the lobby of the Crown Jewel, one of the most prestigious hotels in downtown Seattle, to get out of the steady drizzle that she hadn’t missed when she’d been in New York.
She’d spent the better part of the day with Nika, cleaning her house, making it livable once more. She’d received a shipment from UPS, which had been only two boxes of things she’d decided to keep from her time in New York. Having shared a furnished apartment with three other girls, she hadn’t needed much and it had taken no time at all to put things away. Then she and Nika had sat on the back deck, an open jar of olives between them, catching up. While it was great to be reunited with her friend, Eva was concerned that the sparkle that used to light Nika’s eyes was now only a dim ember. Between the two of them, Nika was the instigator, the daring, playful one, the let’s-just-try-it one who had always dragged the more conservative Eva along for the ride. She hadn’t been irresponsible, just fun. Now she was different. Checked. Quiet. Almost guarded. The transformation had to have something to do with Kevin, because it had come about only after their nuptials.
Eva set her worry aside and tried to focus on the evening’s benefit. She glanced around, taking in the kind of luxury that for some reason always made her think of her father. Forty-foot ceilings, gold-hued lighting, exotic plants three times her size, Zen music piped in to allow for maximum relaxation.
Was this the type of place he frequented? She could walk by him right now and would never know it. How sad.
How maddening, she corrected, never having understood how anyone could simply turn their back on their child. She was his daughter, for God’s sake. He’d held her as a baby. Looked into her eyes. And walked away. Cold and heartless. Maybe she was lucky she didn’t have someone like that in her life. Maybe he’d done them a favor.
Lifting her chin, she moved across the beautifully patterned marble floor, bypassing posh, cozy groupings of coffee-colored leather chairs and love seats and sparkling glass-topped tables graced with heavy crystal vases overflowing with an exotic array of flowers.
The soft gurgle of a massive aquarium beckoned her to the far side of the lobby. She paused there a moment to watch the graceful movements of two bright-blue fish playing tag through the seaweed. Too bad Caleb was in New York. He’d have made the coming night fun.
“It’s Caleb, honey. Read up.”
Eva started at the muffled sound of his voice. What the—? She looked around in confusion. The sound had come from down low as if he’d been squatting next to her leg. She opened her bag and removed her cell. There was a text from him. He must have recorded a personalized ringtone as a joke the last time they’d been together. Guess she contacted him more often than he did her, which would explain why she’d yet to hear it. She smiled broadly as she read his text.
Still nothing on SM. Got to tread carefully on this one.
OK. At the gala. Funny tone btw
Thought you’d like it. Nika with you?
No
That fucker
I know :(
Ltr
Her sigh as she put her phone back in her bag was half-sad at the reminder of Nika’s situation, half-spooked at the reminder of Stefano Moretti.
How did he know her?
A pretty pink-and-orange fish swam in front of her, making lazy circles, tail swishing as though shooing her away. She made her way toward the back of the hotel, quickly spying a restroom and ducking in to check that the rain hadn’t done any lasting damage. Her reflection in the too-bright fluorescents showed she was good, so, smiling at the attendant who was waiting with a towel and a bottle of lotion, Eva quickly primped. At the same time, she noted two women leaving through a second door at the far end of the posh restroom, both of them dressed as formally as she was.
Taking a chance, she followed them and found herself directly across from where she needed to be: the ballroom. She moved forward, checking her dress for wrinkles as she went. She’d been excited to have someplace to finally wear the navy silk gown she’d ordered online. Her roommates had recommended the site, saying it had gotten a lot of positive recommendations on Yelp.
And Eva wasn’t one to turn down a deal. Especially on a dress that should have cost hundreds more than she’d paid for it.
The simple creation hung straight down from crystal-crusted straps. The midthigh split up the left side showed off her four-inch silver shoes, which set her height at just above six feet. She enjoyed dressing up, as most girls did, and didn’t get
the chance very often. As she entered the crowded ballroom, her suspicion about the shoes was confirmed: the high heels put her nearly a head above many of the guests.
She smiled a little. She liked that. It made her feel good. Less like the weaker sex.
Putting on her social game face, she moved farther into the room to see the elegant space was filled with scores of beautifully decorated tables, the chairs so closely packed together they nearly touched. Thank God it was just cocktails and hors d’oeuvres and not one of those long, drawn-out, sit-down dinners. Small talk was stressful enough under the best of circumstances. Much less at her first social outing since her mother’s death, with people who’d known them both for years.
“Champagne?”
A cute, ginger-haired waiter stood next to her, smiling as he held out the full tray he carried. She accepted one with a “Thank you” and took a small sip from the pretty crystal flute, instantly wrinkling her nose at the bubbles that popped into her eyes.
Moving off to the side and enjoying the soothing sounds of the string quartet playing on a raised dais in front of the large windows, Eva forced her shoulders to relax and used her height to her advantage, surreptitiously scanning the clearly affluent crowd in search of . . .
Him.
Her stomach dropped as if she’d gone over the tallest peak of a roller coaster.
All thoughts of finding her mother’s friends melted from her mind as though they’d never existed. Her heartbeat accelerated. Blood rushed through her veins so quickly it took her breath away.
She blinked. It was him. The man she’d seen last week after her TarMor interview. The muscles in her lower belly quivered as he once again stared at her with the same intensity she remembered from before.
Please talk to me this time.
The plea came from somewhere deep in her mind, surprising her. What was he doing here, on the other side of the country? Was he looking at her like that because he remembered her?
A Love of Vengeance (Wanted Men Book 1) Page 4
