Page 32 of His Kidnapped Queen
She doesn’t respond. I keep staring at her, my mind racing. What is she doing here? Is she undercover? Dating another mobster?
I nearly growl at the thought. I’d rather her be undercover than the latter.
“Who are you here for?” I demand to know, my voice loud even over the music.
She winces. “I’m not here for anyone.”
“Are you working?”
Her eyes shoot to mine.
“Of course not. I don’t do that anymore.”
“Bullshit,” I say again, glaring at her. “Or what? You’re fucking one of them? Which one? It isn’t Oscar.”
“How do you know?” she shoots back, finally showing a bit of fire, and I can’t help the smirk that passes over my lips.
“Because you wouldn’t fucking dare.”
“I haven’t seen you in three years, Luca.”
“Doesn’t matter.”
It doesn’t. It doesn’t matter because she was mine the moment I laid eyes on her in that precinct. I don’t know why she’s here now, but I’m going to fucking find out.
“Then why do you keep asking me who I’m fucking?”
“Because if you’re fucking one of them, I’ll kill him,” I say, and I mean it. I don’t kill without reason, not ever, but this is plenty enough a reason for me.
She rolls her eyes. “Territorial.”
“Damn straight,” I answer, and the fact that she won’t look at me drives mecrazy. I take her chin in my hand, squeeze her jaw so that her mouth pops open. “What the fuck are you doing here, pixie?”
“Don’t call me that.”
“You didn’t mind it when I was nine inches deep, did you?”
“Nine inches? Don’t flatter yourself,” she scoffs, and I chuckle darkly.
“I’ll remind you,” I murmur, close to her ear. “Angela? Is that what you want to be called now?”
“I told you, I’m a different person.”
“How so?” I ask. “How did you go from being the law to being dressed like that in a place like this?”
She looks away, turning her eyes as I still have her chin in my hand.
“My partner got killed. I quit, okay? You happy?”
I let go of her chin, dropping my hands by my sides, shocked.
“I…I’m sorry.”
She shrugs. “It is what it is. He’s dead and I’m…coping.”
“Coping by going to mob hangouts?” I ask incredulously. My blood is starting to boil. Because if she’s not here for work, she really is here for someone, and I’m going to find out who it is if it kills us both.
“I have to go,” she whispers and tries to move away.
