Falling for the Killer

“Of course I don’t feel better,” I snapped, pacing away. “Holy shit, Gian. You’re in some gang war.”

“I never said my life was easy,” he said, sounding amused.

I paced up and down his kitchen and put my mug down on the table. I pulled at my hair, which needed to be washed, and stared at him. “I feel like I made a really bad choice, following you.”

He walked slowly toward me, a smirk on his pretty lips. I backed up until I bumped into the wall, and he didn’t stop.

“You made a great choice,” he said, putting one massive, muscular arm above my right shoulder and leaning closer. I glanced at his forearm and felt a very strange, very lovely tingling sensation run down my legs. “I know this feels like a lot, but you’ll be safe with me.”

“Gang war,” I said. “Not safe.”

“Minor scuffle,” he said. “I wouldn’t worry. Now, we need to go meet my Don. I need this from you.”

I leaned my head back and closed my eyes. “I guess I owe you for breaking Stuart’s teeth.”

“Oh, no, I did that one for free, but you should come anyway.”

“Fine,” I said and glared at him. “But no more surprises, okay? I don’t want to learn you have some secret super hitman chasing after you or whatever. Full disclosure from here on out.”

“Okay then,” he said. “In the light of full disclosure, I’m being chased by a cartel murderer that has a taste for human blood.”

I felt my skin go pale. “Are you joking?”

He grinned huge. “Yeah, I am. Come on, what the hell do you think I do?”

I pushed him away and he laughed as I stormed to the door. “Let’s go, asshole,” I said. “Before I change my mind.”

He followed, smiling the whole time. We got into his truck and drove west, left the city, and headed north to a small, cute suburb. It wasn’t the Main Line, but it was full of old houses and had an adorable downtown. The Don’s house was tucked away at the end of a long driveway, and it looked like it would’ve fit in where I grew up. Several expensive cars were parked out front, and the bushes were immaculately trimmed. The roof had big, towering peaks, and the porch wrapped all the way around the sides.

Gian knocked and we were let in by a heavyset woman with smiling eyes. “Hey there, hon,” she said and Gian kissed her cheek.

“Hello, Bea,” he said. “I want you to meet Ash.”

“Hi, darling,” Bea said, grinning. She was an average-looking woman with pale skin and white hair, probably in her sixties. She had on an apron over a cream sweater and slacks. “The Don’s waiting for you in his study.”

“I know the way,” Gian said and headed down the hallway.

Bea gave me a scrutinizing look and I quickly followed after Gian. “Is that his housekeeper?” I whispered.

“And his personal secretary and some people think she’s the brains behind the whole operation,” Gian said, and shrugged. “I think she’s too nice for that, but I’ve been wrong before.”

The Don’s office was behind a set of big oak doors. It was dim and packed with bookshelves. Leather-bound tomes practically tumbled onto the floor. The Don’s desk was enormous and mahogany, and the whole place smelled like my damn childhood.

The Don himself was a thin man in his seventies, wrinkled, sallow skin, bags under his eyes, thinning gray hair. He was gaunt and skeletal, and his clothes almost hung off him. Gian stepped forward and bowed his head in reverence, and I stayed back toward the door, not sure what to do.

But the Don beckoned me in. “Come, stand with Gian where I can see you,” he said.

I hesitated, then moved forward. I pressed my shoulder against Gian’s arm. “Hello, uh, sir,” I said. “It’s nice to meet you.”

“Ashleigh Adamson,” the Don said. His voice was deep and raspy. “Standing before me with Giancarlo. I never imagined the day he’d bring a girl like you to visit me.”

“I’m a lucky man, Don Valentino,” Gian said, grinning.

“It’s not like that,” I said quickly, glaring up at him. “We’re not, uh, together.”

“But I understand the two of you are linked inextricably now.” The Don frowned at my stomach, then back up at me.

I blushed and nodded. “Yes, Don Valentino,” I said.

“Children are a beautiful thing,” the Don said, sounding almost wistful. “But they change a man. Are you prepared for that, Gian?”

“I don’t know, Don,” Gian said, and I was surprised by his honesty. He seemed so intent on staying in this baby’s life, but he seemed unsure all of a sudden. I felt like I stood on shifting, shaky ground, and was reminded again that I didn’t know this man.

I was in a strange place, standing in front of a strange old man. He was the Don of a crime family, and I knew I should be afraid, but the study seemed so much like my father’s, like every rich man I knew. It was strangely familiar, and I couldn’t see the Don as anything other than another wealthy aristocrat with too much money and time.