Page 13 of Their Mafia Empire

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I fanned my neck as a bead of sweat rolled down my throat. The radiator attached to the wall made a hissing sound. I looked at my phone. There was no service here in the woods. Although, the way the bullfrogs broadcasted outside, I thought I might be deep in the bayou.

I didn’t know if I could trust this place. I realize there was no way for Kimble to track me. My hand instinctively moved to my neck where the device had been.

I approached the radiator and looked for a way to turn down the heat. I glared at the rusty knob. How did that work? I groaned trying to turn it any direction I could.

“Jesus Christ,” I muttered when I withdrew my palm from the handle.

There was a long slice running from near my index finger to my wrist. I winced at the new pain in my hand. It was bleeding. I rushed to the kitchenette and ran my hand under the faucet. There wasn’t any warm water, but the cool trickle felt good on my palm. It was a small relief to the sting of the slice of rusted metal. I found a towel in a drawer and wrapped it around my hand. How much worse was this going to get? I felt a tremor in my knees. I had to steady myself.

I was supposed to be stronger than this. I’d experienced enough torture to know better than to let the small things set me off.

There was a bed in the corner of the room. As much as I wasn’t ready to nestle into this cabin, I was reeling with exhaustion. I sat on the edge. The box spring squeaked. I was second-guessing my decision when I heard keys rattling in the lock.

It was only for a second, but my body tingled with nervous adrenaline. Was it possible someone other than Knight would know how to access this place? I was frozen.

The door cracked and Knight walked inside.

I let go of the tension that had crept up to my neck.

“What happened?” His brows narrowed as he bent to examine my hand.

“I was trying to turn down the radiator.” I looked at him.

“I’ll bring something for it. I’m sorry.” He sat next to me and brought my hand closer.

“Wait? What? Where are you going? I’m going with you.”

He shook his head. “I don’t have a lot of time. Seraphina is waiting for me. We have dinner with the Castilles in a few minutes. I’ll head straight back. I swear.”

“You’re going to leave me here?” My voice cracked. “That wasn’t what I agreed to do.”

“I promise it won’t be long, and I’m still within my time allotment. I won’t break that. I have an opportunity to test the Castilles. They are still my top suspect.” His expression was grim.

“If it was only Crew, I’d agree with you, but the Castilles have never crossed paths with me to warrant a declaration of war.”

“Maybe you were the one in the way.” He shrugged. “Regardless, I’m going to take the temperature there. See if anyone cracks. See if Brandon knows something about what Seraphina has been doing.”

It was hard to argue with his plan when he had a front row seat to the inner workings of one of the city’s biggest crime families.

“If only they would name their price. Give me a goddamn number and I’d fill in the check for Crew,” I declared.

“I would too. But I haven’t gotten a message. Neither has my sister. It’s too quiet out there.”

I sighed. I let my head rest on his shoulder. I knew I didn’t have long like this.

“The more I look at it, the more I don’t like that cut.” He lifted the towel from my palm. I winced at the rush of air that hit it. “We might need to have someone look at it if it’s not better tomorrow.”

“It will be okay. It’s just right by my—”

“Love line?” he answered. “I wonder if the gypsies in town would think that’s a bad omen or something. A sign from the Universe.”

I shook my head and almost laughed. “I don’t believe in what the fortune tellers say. I never have.”

“Maybe that’s because you didn’t grow up with all the New Orleans fairytales and lore. You know this city was built on that stuff. It’s the foundation.”

“Fairytales?” I huffed. “You believe in love lines on palms and tarot card readings? You know those shops are a hustle. A good hustle, I admit. They take tourists money left and right. Those women know how to feed people the lines they want to hear.”

He opened his palm and aligned it with mine. “What do you think? Do our love lines intersect?”


Tags: Violet Paige Romance