“You ask first,” I tell her.
Her head tilts in my direction and I don’t miss the ghost of amusement on her face. “That’s not a smart idea. You don’t know that I’ll give you real answers to your questions if I’ve already got what I want. I thought you were starting to think smarter, Winter.”
“You won’t.”
“I won’t what?” she raises a brow.
“You won’t go back on the deal,” I tell her simply.
Her brow raises higher. “How do you know that?”
“Because you like to stir the pot, like chaos and getting over on Giovanni. My questions all fall into that category.”
She’s quiet for a moment and one of her hands come up to rub at her chin. “Okay,” she finally says, propping her arm back behind her. “I have to say, you have me more intrigued than I was before. If it’s within my power to answer, then I will.”
“Your questions first,” I remind her. I turn around until I’m facing her, crossing my legs and places my hands in my lap.
“Amarie Demange.” Two words, so damn simple.
I freeze right on up.
It feels as if deja vu has hit me and I’m right back at the club when Amarie asked me about Lucia. Then, my loyalties felt tested as I tried to figured out what I could tell her about Lucia, who hadn’t done wrong by me in the way that the other Costas had. Especially after coming off of that time of her guarding me and getting a glimpse into her personality outside of her being a tough, badass who took a punch from her cousin like she’d been given a love tap.
I hadn’t wanted to tell Amarie anything but she’d promised that she had no plans to go to the police about what it was Lucia did for the family. I figured she’d just been asking because of the interest I saw in her eyes that night when she met Lucia.
But now Lucia is asking questions about Amarie, and it can’t be a coincidence, not even close.
I peer at Lucia, her face is blank as she watches me and I know she has to see all the emotions running through me.
Amarie has done even less to me than Lucia, she’s given me so much, including hope and little reprieves when my sanity was slipping. She’s helping me figure out everything going on with my mother and has plans to put an assassination into motion on Giovanni if necessary.
I can’t turn on her.
I know that it’s dangerous to give Lucia information. She’s admitted to being a hitwoman, doesn’t make a secret of what it is that she does. “You want information on her,” I keep my words slow.
“I do.” She clucks her tongue, that cold façade falling again before shifting right back into place. “And I can tell you don’t want to give it to me.”
“Why do you want to know about her?”
“It’s not your turn to ask the questions yet, Winter, and if you want to get to that point, I’m going to need you to tell me everything you know about Amarie.”
Fuck.
“You can’t kill her.” My eyes plead with her.
“I can, but I never said I would.”
Shit.
I swallow, considering my options. It’s not that I don’t think Amarie can’t hold her own, because I know that she can, but fuck if this doesn’t feel like the biggest betrayal. I know that if I’m vague and don’t tell Lucia what she wants to know then she’ll call this whole thing off and I need answers. So can I really continue to sit around here and hope that they fall out of the sky? When I could easily get them here and now.
By betraying one friend for another.
“I don’t know a lot about her, so you’re going to have to ask specific questions if you’re looking for something in particular.” Which I have no doubt she is. Lucia knew what she wanted answered the second she came in here.
“Okay.” She sits up, tapping her finger against her thigh. “She’s conducting some other business out of the club.” It’s supposed to be a question but somehow Lucia makes it sound like a statement, like she already has the answer but she just wants me to confirm it.
So I do. “Yes.”