Page 30 of Damiano De Luca (The Five Syndicates)
It was more than anyone else would have done. In reality, this was a solid course of action. Probably the only course of action that wouldn’t involve bloodshed, and I was sticking my neck out for Ariana, a total stranger, because I knew Damian cared. But I downplayed my actions and hoped he wouldn’t look into my motives.
It worked, because his lips turned down at the corners. “And what do you think she’ll choose to do?”
“I have no idea, Damsel.” I poured myself a glass of champagne from the mini fridge. “Maybe nothing. Maybe something.”
He took the bottle from me and drank straight from the rim. “I need a straight answer, Knight.”
My pulse thrummed when he shifted and our thighs touched. “My mom keeps the records. Other than that, she keeps her head out of the family business.” I emptied the champagne glass in one gulp, so I had something to do other than focusing on our proximity. “So, she’ll probably record what we’ve learned into the archives, and if no one decides to look, no one else will find out.”
“And what are the chances that no one will decide to look?” His words bit, but he didn’t seem anything but comfortable beside me.
“I don’t know, Damsel.”
“Are you purposely being difficult?”
Arguing. This was territory I could work with.
I cut him with a glare. “I’ve been out of the mafia world for nearly a decade, Damsel. Excuse me if I have no interest in maintaining ties with the Vitali.”
“They’re your family.”
“I’m my own family.” I went to chug my glass, and it would have been badass, had it not been empty.
He handed me the bottle, and I placed my lips right over the spot he had drunk from. I tasted him. Goosebumps rose up my forearms, and I loathed the lack of control I held over my own body. The innate calmness I’d had before meeting Damian all those years ago remained a distant memory.
“What are the chances no one will decide to look?”
“I already said I don’t know. Has this past decade made you senile?”
“Knight…” That growled warning sent sparks throughout my body, straight to my core.
I forced myself to focus on my irritation, allowing myself a rare moment to shed my calm façade and lash out. “Look, I’m a fucking elementary school teacher! Okay? I don’t know anything about the Vitali anymore. I can guess if that’s what you want.”
I leaned back in the seat and stared at the ceiling. “I have to tell my mom. It’ll be above board that way and give us both protection. My mom’s not only a good person, but she’s also trustworthy. If I ask her to be discreet, she’ll be discreet. So long as nothing eventful happens this weekend, no one will ask to the see the records. Hell, no one cares about a funeral. It’s why I’m here and not my dad or my mom.”
That, and Maman’s emotional affair.
He didn’t say anything for a few minutes. “An elementary school teacher?”
A smile pushed at my lips. “Shut up.”
> He laughed, and it was so unexpected and carefree. Nothing held back. I had no idea how I expected myself to stand a chance against him. My resolve weakened as the car came to a halt in front of the library.
Damian slid out first and gave me a hand. “The New York Public Library? It’s not even open.”
I ignored his hand, knowing he’d feel the sweat on my palms if I took it. “I know people.” In reality, the head librarian was a friend of mine I’d met at a conference. I stepped toward the entrance and turned back to face him. “Are you coming in?”
“Why?”
Because I want to make sure you’re okay.
“We need to go over the details.”
Lie. We could hash them out in a minute and part ways. I needed to make up my mind. I either wanted Damian or I didn’t. It wasn’t fair to either of us to drag our interactions out.
Damian hesitated for a moment before he turned to his car. Defeat coursed through my body. He said something to his driver, who took off a few seconds later. I drove my heels into the ground to fight my anticipation.
He made his way to me and cocked a brow. “Well?”
