Her shaking was visible from here. “Mona.”
“Tell me, Mona. Is Bianca just hiding or is she watching, too?”
“I…I told you—”
His fist wrapped around her wrist, and she gasped. “Don’t you dare lie to me again…Mona. Be honest and play along, and you have my word I’ll let you go without a scratch.”
“I…I…don’t know if she’s watching,” she said.
Fuck. Should I intervene? He’s threatening her, and by the tears sparkling in her pleading eyes, he must be hurting her.
Without thinking or calculating the danger I might be putting myself in, I got off my seat to help the girl no one bothered to even look her way. Suddenly, people from the other tables stared at me, asking me to stay put. Their body language screaming at me, “this is a bad move.”
Then I saw Mr. Alfarez coming from the other end of the diner. He, too, shook his head at me. Then he gestured for me to sit back.
What the fuck? If he didn’t want me to help, why wouldn’t he? Why wouldn’t anyone? Why was everybody too scared to defend the helpless when it came to the Lanzas or the fucking Night Skulls? Why would no one lift a finger to help a woman like Mona or an innocent girl like my Annie?
“Sit on my lap,” the Lanza asshole ordered Mona.
“What?” she squeaked.
He forced her on his lap and ran a finger along her jaw and down to her chest. Then he leaned into her ear, whispering something. Then she was nodding with a swallow. “Yes, Cosimo. Anything you want.”
My blood simmered. As he let her walk away, I realized all that power play, all the intimidation, the threats, harassing a woman, shaking her with fear to the point of crying and begging was all, obviously, an attempt to make Bianca jealous. The girl who would rather hide in the kitchen than meet him. The girl he couldn’t have yet.
Cosimo Lanza had an eye for Bianca Zanetti, and he’d do anything to have her.
I wanted my little sister back, and I’d do anything to have her.
The key to saving Annie is behind that kitchen door, and I’d stop at nothing until I had it.
CHAPTER 5
Cameron
Bianca wiped her bloodshot eyes—I’d found her crying in the bathroom—and glared at me in disbelief.
I took a deep breath. “I know I’m asking for a lot, but—”
“I’m not going to fuck Cosimo Lanza for a favor.”
“Of course not. That’s not what I’m saying. All I’m asking is that you give him one date in exchange for his help to get Annie back.”
Did that make me evil? A terrible person to ask her to date that Mafia boss and make her ask him for a favor on my behalf? I knew I felt I was, but a guilty conscience or being judged was the last of my concerns. A trivial price to pay in order to save my sister.
Put yourself in my position for a second, and see how your moral compass would point North when it was a family member’s life at stake. You’d, like me, do anything to save an innocent fifteen-year-old girl from the hands of a gang that would, without guilt or remorse, use, rape or even kill her. There was nothing I wouldn’t do to save Annie from the hell named the Night Skulls. Even if I had to help a ruthless mobster get the one girl he wanted so he’d give me the only person that mattered in my life.
“I’m not dating that monster!” She spun and braced against the sink, crying again. “What makes you think I’m that important to him he’ll grant me that favor in exchange for one date anyway? Why don’t you go ask Mona? He’s taking her out tonight. Maybeshecan help.”
Her tone burned with jealousy, and I realized, again, my assumptions were wrong. Bianca wasn’t afraid of Cosimo Lanza or didn’t want to date him. She wanted him as much as he wanted her, and he was successful to make her jealous with his little stunt with Mona.
“Bianca,” I chuckled, “he’s not taking her out.”
“Yes, he is. She just told me.”
I rubbed her back gently, looking at her blubbering face in the mirror. “Trust me. I was there. I saw the whole thing. He was furious that you weren’t there, and then he forced her to sit on his lap. Obviously, he told her to lie to you about that date to make you jealous. And it’s working.”
She lifted her head and stared at me, a hint of a smile curving the corner of her mouth. Then she glanced down, puckering her lips, and opened the faucet. “I’m not jealous. I don’t care about that asshole or who he dates.”