Page 24 of Power & Punishment

“It’s really more about the control for me,” I wink playfully, “but making sure you know your place is a welcome perk.”

She opens her mouth to respond, but I cut her off. “Here’s how this works. You do what I say, and I keep your secrets. I keep your partner clean. I let you keep your job. And I pretend that little stunt you pulled never happened.”

Mia stares back at me. The gap between her lips opens slightly as she absorbs my terms. I can feel her holding back the insults and arguments gathering on her tongue—almost like it physically pains her to be this compliant.

I love it.

“What do you want me to do?”

“Finally, we can get to the good part,” I say, clapping my hands together. “You’re going to convince Dante Russo to help me with something.”

Her face pales. “Absolutely not.”

“Not on good terms with the family?” I ask, taking another sip of bitter coffee. I can feel the waitress stare at me from across the room like she’s eager to refill my cup. “That’s not going to work for me.”

“I don’t care,” she seethes. “I’m no longer a part of that family and I’d like to keep it that way.”

I tap my fingers against the sticky tabletop before I respond. Little does she know she just gave me the confirmation I needed.

“You know Emilia, a smart person would’ve asked how I know Dante is your brother. I’m a little disappointed you gave it up so easily. Then again, you aren’t that good at playing hard to get. I’m starting to get bored.”

I remain perfectly still as her hands slap against the table in anger. I catch the waitress jump from the corner of my eye, but she doesn’t interrupt.

“You did a good job of erasing your past on paper. If you stayed in Boston, you could’ve lived a happy and normal life. How long did you think you could get by without being discovered?”

Her eyes turn into thin slits and her lips wrinkle into a scowl. “Maybe you should’ve made the blonde hair permanent. Although I prefer your hair this color, Cara.”

When her right hand goes for her gun, I feel the softest hint of victory. A black mop of hair a few booths behind us stirs, but I shake my head, giving Michael the signal to stand down. I let out a crippled sigh and slide out of my seat. Her grip tightens on the firearm when I slide into her side and back her against the wall.

I gently place my hand against her thigh and lean into her ear. “I wouldn’t do that if I were you.”

She attempts to pull away, but I’ve got her boxed in. I sweep her long brunette hair back from her neck and take in the dark scents of amber and vanilla. I wish I could bottle it up.

“Stop,” she breathes. “I’ll cooperate. Just—just stop touching me.”

I smile and lean back, granting her wish. But I don’t move from my new favorite spot. “Good. Now let’s talk about⁠—”

“What happened to Vince?” she cuts in. “You promised.”

She stares at me expectantly, and when I don’t reply, she presses. “You said if I met with you then you’d tell what happened the night Vince died. So, start talking.”

I relax but stay close. “Did I? That doesn’t sound like me.”

“You did,” Mia snaps, her nostrils flaring.

“I said,” I correct, voice calm but firm, “that you’d get answers if you worked with me, not against me.”

I let my thumb trace a slow line along the seam of her jeans. I press down with enough pressure to remind her that I can lose control at any second.

“Answers are earned,” I explain, “and I’m afraid you haven’t earned them yet.”

Her eyes connect with mine, sharp and filled with razor-sharp rage. “You’re really going to dangle my brother’s death in front of me? I don’t have time to follow breadcrumbs. Vince’s killer is out there and⁠—”

“I thought I was your main suspect, Emilia?” I ask, warmth radiating deep inside my chest.

“You still are,” she bites, “but I’m willing to bet a man like you is too chicken shit to get his hands dirty.”

Her nose wrinkles in disgust, and I’m not going to lie, her comment stings. However, she’s not wrong, but I don’t think it makes me weak.