Total pages in book: 90
Estimated words: 85490 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 427(@200wpm)___ 342(@250wpm)___ 285(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 85490 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 427(@200wpm)___ 342(@250wpm)___ 285(@300wpm)
I yank open the door and I’m about to leave when I hear Angelo’s voice. I step out onto the porch, but he appears at my elbow, his hair still wet and wearing a pair of sweats and a black t-shirt. “Hold up,” he says and grabs onto my elbow. “Laura, what’s wrong?”
I look at his hand and slowly stare at him. “I’d let go if I were you.”
He grimaces and moves back a step. “Sorry, it’s just, I don’t remember the last time you were out around the oasis, and clearly there’s a reason you came here. So what’s going on?”
I grind my jaw. Well, crap. If Angelo had just stayed upstairs, I could’ve slunk back into my own house, locked all the doors, and waited for this to blow over. But he caught me, and now I’m obligated to talk.
“I want another show,” I say, staring at my feet. My cheeks burn with shame.
“Another… show? You mean, another art show at Cage?”
I nod once. “Yes. Please.” I look up slowly, and he’s practically smiling so hard it looks like his face is going to crack in half.
“Absolutely. Fucking happy to do it.” He’s beaming so hard it makes me want to puke. “No, hold on, wait—”
I walk down the porch steps and stomp back toward my house. “Forget it. This isn’t worth it.”
“Come on, Laura. This is a good thing.” He matches my pace. “You’ve been stuck in that house for too damn long. We can do the masks again, if you want. People actually really liked it last time.”
I stare grimly ahead. “If people liked it—”
“It’ll be fine. And you’ll make more sales. Actually, we’ll have to double the prices this time.”
“I don’t care about the money.”
“Sure, whatever, but big sales make you more popular, you know what I mean? Seriously Laura, this is a really good thing. I’m proud of you.”
I grunt at him, inwardly kicking myself in the face for doing this on a whim, but already imagining how I’ll run into Jackal for a second time. When I reach my house, I hurry up the porch and toward the front door, but pause before going in.
Angelo’s still on the sidewalk, looking almost giddy. The pathetic asshole.
“Hey, one more thing. Can you get me a list of the best freelance computer hackers in the city?”
He looks surprised. “Probably, but what do you need that for?”
“Don’t worry about it.”
“Now I’m definitely worried. Are you causing trouble?”
“If you won’t help, I’ll ask Davide.”
“It’s fine, I’ll get you a list.” He laughs to himself, shaking his head. “A second showing and some mysterious computer job. I’m worried Chicago isn’t ready for Laura Bianco to come out of hiding.”
I give him a hard look. “You sure as hell aren’t.” I head inside, slamming the door behind me, but I’m smiling as I head back to the basement.
Now I have a trap and a bunch of leads.
The next time I see Jackal, it’ll be on my own terms.
Chapter 8
Marco
“Okay, this is bizarre.” Valentina gives me a confused glare as we walk toward a crowded coffee shop in the middle of downtown Chicago. Skyscrapers loom and business people hurry toward offices in slacks and jackets. “You’ve been grinning like a moron all morning. Seriously, why are you in a good mood?”
“I woke up on the right side of the bed.”
“Yeah, okay, I don’t buy that at all. Normally, you’re all—” She rolls her eyes and does an extremely insulting impression of me. “The Bianco Famiglia must pay for what they did to your father, Valentina, stop drinking all the coffee, we’re going to burn this city to the ground, Valentina, please clean the candy wrappers up—”
“Okay, I get the point.” I glare at her and pause a half-block from our destination. Walkers swerve around us like we’re stones in a fast-moving river. “I’m in a good mood. That’s all.”
Valentina shrugs and crosses her arms. She smiles at me, head tilted, and tosses her hair. Most men would be totally smitten with her—hell, most men are—but I’ve known her for way too long to be anything but platonic.
I get it, she’s a classic Italian beauty, with big features and thick black hair, but all I see is a mediocre assistant and a total slob.
Besides, I made her old man a promise. It feels like forever ago when Luciano called me into his office and made me swear that I’d watch over his daughter if anything bad happened to him. At the time, I just laughed and said of course I would, but nothing’s going to happen. That was a day before he was murdered, almost as if he knew it was coming.
“Don’t worry, I’m not complaining,” she says and jabs a finger into my arm. “I prefer you like this. But it’s just weird, that’s all.”